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Pillow talk.
Who would have thought?
But right now? Something just feels off.
I shuffle to the bathroom while checking my mental calendar. Hungrier, hornier, hankering for all sorts of snacks like pickles and fried Oreos—that can only mean one thing.
When I catch myself on the doorframe of the bathroom, I clutch my stomach, my thoughts running a mile a minute.
Am I pregnant?
“Viktoria!” I call out. I push off the doorframe and wander through the penthouse suite. “Viktoria, where are you?”
Her voice, muffled, comes from down the hallway. “Master suite!”
I stumble upon her making Pavel’s bed. It’s weird walking into this bedroom, seeing the cool color scheme, the art framed in shiny chrome, the navy blue curtains that are meant to block out the sunlight. It’s all uniform, stiff, impersonal.
“What’s wrong,krolik?” she asks while fluffing a pillow. “Hungry again?”
I bite my lower lip. “No, I…” I twirl a lock of hair around my finger. “I was wondering if you have any pregnancy tests lying around somewhere?”
She gasps. “Liya!”
I blink while she snatches my hand and yanks me into the hallway. The way she darts makes me concerned for her knee—and the rest of her, too. I’ve never seen her move so quickly.
“Viktoria, what—?”
A slew of Russian flies from her lips, and I can’t help but laugh. She’s babbling with more excitement than the time we ordered takeout and she had that crab Rangoon. She lit up like a Christmas tree then. And now she’s lighting up again.
She grabs a box from the second shelf above the toilet and slaps it into my hand. “Do you have a full bladder?”
“No, but I could make it happen.”
She nods. “Water won’t be enough. You need tea.”
I laugh. “You just want an excuse to make tea.”
“You never need an excuse to make tea,krolik.”
I shake my head while following her down the hall. “You keep calling me that. What’s it mean?”
“It means rabbit.”
I cringe. “Why would you call me that?”
“Because I thought Pavel would devour you—like a wolf would.”
So, I’m not the only one who saw the big bad wolf in him. “Oh, that’s…Howcharming.”
“Now it’s less about being the prey and more about evading the predator.”
“You sure have a funny way of showing affection.”
She pauses near the kitchen and holds up her fingers, pinching them together in what has become a familiar—and almost fond—threat. “I have other ways.”
I smile. “So, about that tea?”
She gestures to the counter. “Take your pick.”
