Page 71 of Hate You Most

Viktoriya laughed. "That is also okay.”

From Viktoriya's memory, they had never spent the night together. One of them would pull away and leave, before the rising sun made their decisions feel permanent. It wasn't ideal, and deep down she knew it wasn't what she wanted—but it was how it had been for years. Or at least, that was how it had been for her. For Dakota, they had spent the night together a million times, she just couldn't remember that happening.

Maybe it was a good way to get her memory back. It couldn't hurt to at least try.

“Nothing has to happen,” Viktoriya added, her voice low. “We’ll just sleep. That's all.”

Dakota searched her face, eyes dark. “You’re asking me to lie down next to you, and to do nothing?”

“Yes.”

Dakota let out a slow laugh. “We’re married,” she said. “Even from what you remember, have I ever laid next to you and done nothing?”

“I—” Viktoriya had no idea what to respond.

She leaned back into a full laugh. ”I don't think I can just lay there, Volkova.”

“It's just sleep,” Viktoriya repeated and smiled back.

“Just sleep,” Dakota repeated back. “Sure, we can do that.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

November 20th, 2022.

— Dakota Sanchez apartment. Detroit, Michigan, night.

Viktoriya had been foolish enough to believe that their “just sleep” excuse would last more than five minutes. She hadn't fully realized how terrible the idea actually was until she found herself laying face-to-face with Dakota, staring into her forest-green eyes with barely any space between them.

They hadn't meant to turn toward each other. Viktoriya had been completely adamant that all they were going to do was sleep. She just needed someone beside her tonight. Someone there while she fell asleep.

Viktoriya had rolled onto her side first, the mattress shifting beneath them, her breath hitching when she'd realized Dakota had already done the same.

They were facing each other. Close enough that Viktoriya could make out the faint scar over Dakota’s eyebrow, and the faded freckles splashed across her cheeks and nose. Close enough that she could feel the heat of Dakota's body through the thin sheets.

Neither of them spoke.

Viktoriya noticed the way Sanchez breathing had changed. It was measured, like she was counting it.

“This was a bad idea,” Dakota murmured.

Viktoriya smiled softly. “Probably.”

“I mean it.” A quiet laugh escaped her lips that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Viktoriya’s gaze dropped—just briefly—to her scarlet lips. She didn’t move closer and didn’t touch her, but something inside her shifted and clicked into place.

Her nerves lit on fire, like she’d finally stepped back into her body after drifting through the darkness for far too long.

“I don’t want to pretend I don’t feel this,” Viktoriya said quietly. “I know there is something between us, but I don’t know what it means yet.”

Dakota swallowed hard. “I’ve spent years of my life pretending I didn’t feel anything for you, when I did,” she admitted, her voice low. “I got very good at it.”

“That sounds lonely.”

“It was,” Dakota said softly. Then after a moment, she added, “It still is.”

Viktoriya’s hand moved before she consciously decided to let it. Only a few inches—but enough for her fingers to brush the back of Dakota’s knuckles where her hand rested on the sheet between them. The contact was barely there. It just as well could have been nothing.