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"I just got off the airplane and that's the first thing you say to me? Really?"
I glanced down at what he saw. I wore white Converse sneakers, rolled-up jean shorts, and a loose, black shirt with the words THIS IS MY HANDSTAND SHIRT printed upside down. I didn't think I looked bad. All that was missing was a tan.
He frowned, his shoulders tight and jaw set firm. Glancing into his eyes, I couldn't get a bead on what he was thinking. There was no spark in them like usual. Kova was completely closed off and that raised questions.
"I told you they starve us. You don't listen."
His face scrunched up, but he wasn't being rude. He just looked completely puzzled. "You look…disgustingly thin, and kind of transparent. I almost believe it."
I brushed him off. "There went your attractiveness." He shrugged casually. "I know English isn't your first language, but where's your etiquette? My joints are as stiff as steel, and you have a stick up your ass. I don't need this after the week I just had, that's for sure."
Kova smirked and I felt a flutter in my stomach. "And you ask where my etiquette is?" he teased. "I say it like it is. Are you hungry?"
"Nice to see you too."
"Aside from the skin and bones, I see you are in better shape this time and do not need to be carried out."
"I didn't need it the first time either," I lied, looking into his eyes and fighting a smirk. I had needed it, and I desperately needed it now. I gathered he knew that much but was letting me be independent for once. "That was your barbaric, caveman side coming out."
The back of Kova's knuckles gently grazed my cheekbone, his eyes roaming my face. I stared up at him, catching a swirl of emotion in his eyes. "You have makeup on. You never wear that crap on your face. I do not like it." Lowering his voice, he said, "I like you natural. Wash it off."
Shaking my head, I walked around him toward the exit. He fell in stride next to me and I groaned under my breath. "Who pissed in your vodka?"
Kova looked over at me, the smallest grin tugging the corner of his mouth. "You Americans," he said. "No one touches my vodka."
I turned my head in the other direction so Kova wouldn't see me smile. He was a true Russian and loved his vodka.
We got to his car and I waited for him to unlock the doors. When I tugged on the handle and the door didn't budge, I stood on my toes and moved to look over the hood at him. Kova just stared back at me.
"Something feels off. What are you hiding?" he asked, his green eyes narrowing.
"What are you hiding?" I retorted sarcastically.
"There is something different about you," he stated.
"There is something different about you."
I’d missed a call from my doctor's office yesterday. They'd left a message asking me to come in as soon as possible. It had been on my mind all last night and the entire plane ride home today. Between that and my Achilles, I'd had better days. My calf was like a ball of heated sparks bursting with each step I took and I struggled to hide my limp from him.
I yanked on the door impatiently. "Please, just open the door. I'm tired and I want to go home." I was fighting to keep my eyes open, but he didn't budge. "Come on, Coach." I sighed dramatically and he finally unlocked the doors. Climbing in, I sat down and relished the softness of his leather seats, hiding the suffering pain that consumed my ragged body. I let out a long, drained sigh that made Kova look at me in concern.
"Thank you for picking me up," I said. He just gave me a subtle nod.
Kova pulled out of the parking lot with one hand on the steering wheel and one hand on the gearshift. Something was bothering him, and I could sense he was in a fickle mood. I gathered it didn't have anything to do with me, but every couple of stoplights he would look my way. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my face coming from under his baseball cap, and even though I didn't ask what was on his mind, I went on instinct. Reaching out, I placed my hand over his and he immediately turned his over to lace our fingers together. The tension coming from him dissipated and that made me feel better.
"I know today is your annual Fourth of July barbeque, but would it be okay if I skipped it? I really just want to go home and rest."
Kova flipped his blinker on, then made a right turn. "I decided not to host one this year. I was not in the mood."
"Oh, okay. That makes me feel a little better about missing it then."
He pulled into my condo complex, and I took off my seatbelt when I realized he’d parked his car.
"Come. Let us get you situated."
I closed my eyes, trying not to get all flustered. I had my afternoon all planned out. I'd take a long, scorching shower, eat something, and then binge a TV show on my phone until I fell asleep.
"It's okay. I got it from here, thanks, though. I know what to expect this time."
