Page 147 of You + Me – Against the World

I sit up so I can gaze into his eyes. “Vadim, how can people not love you as much as I do?”

“I don’t care. I have you.”

I stroke his cheek while holding back my tears.

“You’ve changed me,” he continues. “For the better. Made me less selfish. Less broken. I think I could spend my life looking at you, listening to you, watching you live, watching you shine…”

“No, you’re going to make movies,” I whisper, playing with his messy curls. “But you’re too good-looking to stay behind the camera all the time.”

He shrugs and gently kisses my palm. “Before, I didn’t want anything. And now, I want to be someone. Because you believe in me.”

We stay there for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, trading little kisses on our lips, cheeks, and the tips of our noses, laughing like kids, challenging each other with our eyes, holding on tight. Incapable of letting go.

“What is it?”

“I love this beauty mark,” he whispers, tracing it with a finger. “Right here, under your breast.”

“And I’m in love with your scar…” I run my tongue over the pink line that crosses his full lip.

“Your belly button, too. I think it’s the most perfect one I’ve ever seen.”

“I could say the same about your body, but I’ve never really seen any other naked men before,” I admit, burying my face in his neck.

“I’ve been with other girls, but you’re the only one I’ve ever truly made love with.”

His words undo me. So does his soul.

He wipes away the tear slipping down my cheek with his finger. “I don’t know what lies ahead for us, Alma, but thank you for believing in You + Me.”

51

Thud.

Under the comforter, I groan, then turn over to face the other way. Vadim’s naked body keeps me warm. So warm.

Thud. Thud.

I open my eyes a tiny little bit, and the faint light filtering through the curtains tells me it’s early. Too early.

Thud, thud, thud.

Vadim’s arm falls across my chest. Suddenly, he jumps to his feet and rubs his face vigorously with one hand. I don’t understand what’s going on.

More thuds follow.

My heartbeat echoes even louder in my ears.

Vadim throws on some jeans.

The red numbers on the alarm clock read 6:02.

My foggy brain still isn’t registering much.

“Don’t move. Don’t speak,” he whispers to me, a finger on his lips.

There was something dark in his eyes as he headed toward the door. Something is wrong.

“Police. Open the door!” yells an authoritative voice.