Page 25 of Pay the Piper

“Would you like to travel?”

“Absolutely.”

“If you could go anywhere—?”

“Italy,” I interrupt. “I’ve always wanted to see Lake Como, Venice, Rome…”

“They’re all beautiful.”

“You’ve been? I mean, I noticed you speak Italian, so it makes sense.”

“I speak many languages, lesnaya.”

Damn, that’s hot.

“But yes, I’ve seen much of Italy. Not all, though. Tuscany remains on my bucket list.”

A chime from his phone pulls both of us from our rambling conversation about dream vacations, and I realize with a start that time has gotten away from me.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry to have kept you for so long.”

“It’s no trouble,” he says, making no move to rise from the couch. “I was planning to sleep on your couch, actually. I assumed you wouldn’t want to be alone after you were so frightened earlier.”

“Oh, I—”

“Of course, the more reasonable option would be for you to move in with me—”

“Wha—”

“At least until I can have a proper security system installed to give you peace of mind.”

I’m frozen, staring at this man who’s sitting on my couch like he’s already comfy for the night.

“I can also stay outside your door, then arrange for one to be installed first thing in the morning, if you’d prefer for me not to intrude on your space.”

“No, I…you aren’t an intrusion. But you don’t have to do any of that. I was probably just being paranoid. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Finally, he stands, towering over me in a way that makes me feel safe, not scared.

“I don’t do anything I don’t want to do, Abby. You’re my skate coach. I’d like to consider you a friend, as well. And I’d never leave a friend to feel alone. Your couch is quite comfy. May I please stay? Unless you want to come see my magnets.”

It’s tempting to take him up on his offer, but tonight’s already been too surreal.

“I would feel safer if you stayed on the couch,” I say softly, rolling my eyes at how pleased he looks. “Thank you for…everything.”

“I’ll get the security handled tomorrow and make sure you have access to the app.”

After he’s brushed his teeth with one of my spares and checked to make sure the door was locked, there’s nothing left to do but say good night.

“Do you need anything?” My question is sincere but seems unnecessary since Misha’s already making himself comfortable under my pink blanket. Pulling my caterpillar into himself to be his little spoon, he looks like he belongs. On my bed, though. Not on the couch.

“I’ve slept in hundreds of less comfortable places, Abby. I promise I’ll be fine. Nobody will come through that door tonight, though. I can promise you that.”

With that, I leave him and shut the bedroom door between us. My hand hovers over the lock, but somehow, I feel it’s unnecessary and insulting to put that between us. What if he needs something and can’t wake me up?

No, a locked door between Misha Mavrin and me feels wrong. And I have a feeling that sooner rather than later, he might not tolerate anything between us at all.

Chapter 12