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“I can’t breathe,” Olivia complains, grinning the entire time.
Grant holds her at arm’s length. “Where were you? Why did you leave?”
The little girl’s toothy grin spreads even wider as she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a bag of gummy candies.
Grant stares down at it, speechless.
“I wanted candy.” She presses the bag into Grant’s hands. “If you open it for me, we can share.”
Behind me, Timofey chuckles, but I’m too busy fighting back tears to turn around and see what that’s about.
Grant squeezes the bag of gummy worms in his fist until his knuckles are white. Then he drops to the floor again and pulls his sister into a hug.
“Grant,” she complains, “I can’t breathe.”
He squeezes harder. “I don’t care.”
63
PIPER
Timofey is silent on the ride back to his house.
For the first time, I wish we were in a car. I'd have a panic attack, but it would be worth it to be able to glance over at him in the passenger seat and read his expression. I wish I could talk to him without needing to yell and my hair whipping around my face under the helmet.
Usually, I like the wide-open freedom of the bike. I like being able to cling to Timofey's strong body and feel the wind against my skin. It's easier when we aren't face to face. I can hold him from behind and pretend he’s a different man. A better man.
But after what I saw tonight, I think Timofey might already be that better man.
I want a closer look to be sure.
The garage door opens as we approach. Timofey glides the bike gracefully past his fleet of parked vehicles to the back wall. He kills the engine as the door closes automatically behind us.
I'm so lost in thought I don't realize I should be moving until Timofey says something.
“Whenever you’re ready."
“Oh. Right.” I slide off the seat and unbuckle the helmet. My fingers are cold from the night air and it takes me a few tries to get the buckle off. It doesn’t help that I’m shaking.
When the clasp is free, Timofey lifts the helmet off my head and places it on the back of his bike. The gesture feels comfortable and intimate. Like, somehow, through the tangled mess of drama we’re in, something akin to an actual relationship is forming.
Right now, when I’m away from my family, my routine, and my apartment… this moment with Timofey feels like home.
He turns to walk past me towards the house, but I grab his arm. My hold isn’t enough to keep him here. We both know he could blow past me without even trying.
But he stops and waits.
“What?” His voice is a growl, but it doesn’t frighten me the way it used to. It’s a tactic. He’s trying to push me away.
I turn to him, my hand sliding up his forearm to wrap around his elbow. “I don’t know yet.”
“Piper…” He sounds exasperated, but he always sounds that way when he's talking to me. I'm starting to think I might not exasperate him as much as he lets on.
I shift in front of him and draw close, arching my body against him so I can look up into his face. He keeps his eyes pinned above my head, focused on the wall behind me.
“Look at me.” I slide my hand up and cup his jaw. “Please.”
Slowly, he tilts his chin down. His blue eyes are silver in the dim light, and I want to take a dip below their surface. I want to know what is going on inside of his head.
