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I can barely stand how intensely my body craves her. But every time I might get the chance to follow through on my desire, my guilt raises its ugly head, shattering my composure.
Combing my fingers through my hair, I tug roughly at its roots in my frustration. Then I turn to head toward class, a thundercloud of emotion hovering over me.
26
SILVIA
Pyotr flashes me a megawatt smile from the bottom of the stairs as I finally emerge from my bedroom. From the sound of it, he’s spent the last ten minutes conversing with my father. And sure enough, as I take the first few steps, my father comes into view beneath the upstairs landing.
“I’ll have her back by eleven, sir,” Pyotr promises, shaking my father’s hand.
Strange.In our weeks of dating, he hasn’t been able to stand the sight of me for longer than a few hours. He’s dropped me off before ten every time.Now he’s asking to keep me out all the way to my curfew?
Though I’m loath to admit it, he’s piqued my interest.
“Ready to go?” Pyotr asks, joining me as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
I glance down at my dark jeans and thick layers of flannel and leather topped with a scarf and beanie. “I don’t know. Am I?” I ask. All he said was to dress for warmth.
“You look perfect,” he assures me, taking my hand.
Despite myself, giddy nerves bubble up inside me.
“Have fun,” my father says with mild amusement, as if he’s in on some great secret.
I glance over my shoulder before allowing Pyotr to usher me through the front door.
“Where are we going?” I ask as he waits for me to climb into his Corvette.
“You’ll see,” he teases with a mischievous grin.
What in the actual fuck?This guy’s mood changes like a light switch. I watch him jog athletically around the front of the car, completely baffled by his enthusiasm. For months, he’s been treating me like dead weight that he would like nothing better than to cut loose.And now he wants me to be excited about a surprise?
The dark possibility that he might actually be planning to kill me andtrulycut dead weight enters my head. But no, he wouldn’t do something that reckless. Because whether my father would come after him or not, my brothers have already proven they can get their hands on him–and will–if he does anything to hurt me.
His sleek sports car glides down the dark neighborhood streets of Forest Glen as he finds his way out to Highway 94 and merges onto the interstate. And tonight, though he doesn’t say a word–as usual–the atmosphere sparks with unspoken excitement.
“Okay, Pyotr, you’re really starting to freak me out,” I say when I can’t stand the silence any longer. “Is this when you take me to some haunted cemetery and kill me?”
He chuckles lightly, his gray eyes dancing as they flick toward me. “No one’s going to die tonight,” he promises when he sees the genuine worry on my face. “We’re almost there,” he adds. “And I think you’re really going to love this.”
I chew my lip but nod and turn my attention to the road once more.
When he pulls off the highway once more, I recognize the drive we’re taking to the botanical gardens just outside the dense city. And when I glance his way, Pyotr gives me another brilliant smile.
“Are the gardens even open at this time of night?” I ask, more confused than ever.
“You’re just full of questions tonight, aren’t you?” he teases lightly, and it brings me back to the easy banter we exchanged over our long weekend in New York.
The reminder sets my heart to aching once again, and I dampen the flicker of hope that threatens to ignite in my chest.
Parking in the impressively crowded visitor parking lot, Pyotr kills the engine of his Corvette and climbs out. I follow suit, looking around curiously at the number of people flooding toward the entrance.
Clearly, this is a thing, and I’m shocked to realize Pyotr’s found something in my hometown I’ve never even heard about. But parents and children, young couples and old, all brim with excitement as they line up near the door to wait for admission.
Taking my hand, Pyotr leads me to the back of the line, and once again, it’s almost like we’re a normal couple. No skipping lines, no grand meals showcasing his wealth. We’re doing something anyone can do, andthatis what made me take my first deep look into what makes Pyotr tick.
“You still look confused,” he jokes as we wait our turn.
