But then, it hits me.
The rightness of this moment.
I never figured I’d have this.
Her.
Our house.
Several homes, in fact.
The best cars and staff who feed us the best food.
Best friends I want to kill but whom I’ll kill for…
Her.
That kid, after he lost everything and everyone, never figured he’d have so much.
My eyes pop open.
“Thank you.”
I say the words to the universe.
It’s not my holiday.
But I can still be grateful for?—
“MAXIM, I NEED SOMEONE TO WASH MY BACK.”
I jump off the bed.
Now I have somethingelseto be thankful for…
FIFTY-FOUR
DINNER GUESTS FROM HELL
Misha hasthe audacity to look unaffected when I scowl at him upon seeing our other guests.
Dima, also spotting my scowl, snorts. “I’d feel unwanted if I weren’t wanted.”
Sofia arches a brow at him. “Who says you’re wanted?”
Aspen crows, “Feel the burn, Dmitri.”
Dmitri, being a brat, flips her the bird.
But their women’s ease with one another… Misha has been hanging out with Dmitri.
Behind my back.
When I hold out the chair opposite mine, Victoria slips into the seat with the damn dog on her knee. “I’ve seen you around campus.” She angles her head to the side. “In the library, too.”
“Sofia’s studying an alphabet soup of degrees,” Dmitri chimes in from beside her, pouring a mimosa into a flute from a condensation-dotted jug. “Sofia, this is Victoria. You should have met a while ago, but Maxim hoards Victoria like he’s…” He pauses. “I don’t even know what like.”
“Stig of the Dump.”
