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Ivan shot me a disbelieving look. “That’s definitely bullshit.”
“Maybe, but Delaney…” I trailed off. “She wants to believe him. I think more for her ego than anything else.” I couldn’t help but throw him a pointed look. “It’s definitely easier to think circumstances prevented your boyfriend from contacting you, rather than the alternative—he blew you off. I saw him today and he asked me to put in a good word with her.”
“Why did he ask you?” he snapped. “I swear, I can’t leave you alone for one second without some asshole trying to get close,” he grumbled.
“Drew isn’t into me, he just thought I could plead case to Delaney.”
“Did it help?
“She thinks it’s sweet that he tried to get me to help him out.”
Ivan’s hand tightened again. “I don’t think there’s anything that’s fucking sweet about it,” he growled, his harshly spoken words sending a thrill through me. He frowned suddenly. “Everything checked out when Anya ran him,” he murmured. “What else do you know about him?”
I shrugged. “He seems like a pretty good guy, the drama with Delaney aside. I know he has a lot of brothers and sisters, and he grew up poor.”
He looked at me like I grew another head. “How do you know all that?”
I shrugged. “He’s in our room quite a bit, sometimes we have to make small talk.”
“His goddamn life story isn’t small talk. What the fuck is he up to? Was he hitting on you?”
What was this about? He said he thought Belshaw was the most suspicious person around me right now, so did that mean Ivan was jealous of Drew? Though I felt petty and childish, I couldn’t resist testing the possibility. “I don’t think so, but he hug me when I said I’d talk to Laney.”
I was going to burn in hell for all the drama I was stirring up.
“He hugged you? Why the fuck are all these guys putting their hands on you?” He was practically breathing fire now. His reaction was igniting little sparks of hope in my chest.
“You think he might be Orlov?” I didn’t think he was, and I didn’t think Ivan did either, but I was being eaten alive by curiosity. If Ivan said no, he had to be jealous.
Again, Ivan stopped and turned to me. “I don’t like how he’s talking to you. I don’t like how he’s hugging you, I don’t fucking like how he was lying on your bed. I don’t like a lot of things about this fucker. The more I know about him, the better.”
Again, his words, spoken so ferociously, led me to only one conclusion. “Are you jealous?” I blurted out.
Ivan froze, his lips tightening at the suggestion. His eyebrows slammed together and his nostrils flared like a snorting bull. “Jealous? Jealousy is an emotion for fucking melodramatic teenagers. I’m protecting you because that was my assignment. This guy is doing shit that seems suspicious, so I’m making note of it. That’s it. It’s my job. It’s the only reason I’m here,” he asserted icily, dropping my hand and continuing to walk.
I stood completely still, shocked by his brutality. My hand clutched my chest as if trying to gather the shattered pieces of my heart. I had been harboring hope that our night together would make him see what we have, our connection.
To have that illusion destroyed so aggressively, so absolutely, was devastating. I felt stupid and juvenile for entertaining these fantasies—had I imagined everything? My mind buzzed as if a helicopter were over my head, but it was just all my greatest fears rushing up at me at the same time. I was sickened by my own self-delusion.
Ivan didn’t want me.
He was still walking, probably assuming I’d follow, but I couldn’t move. Dejection weighed on me like a wet blanket, numbing me, paralyzing me. He might want to touch me, kiss me, even have sex with me, but that didn’t mean he really cared about me, that he wanted a relationship.
I could feel the prickle of tears in my eyes, and I wanted more than anything for them to go away. Having him witness me crying over him was the ultimate humiliation.
I took deep breaths and tipped my head back, as though gravity itself would force the tears in my eyes back into my body.
Admitting defeat, I quickly swiped at them, hoping the traces would be unnoticeable.
“Emmy?” Ivan called quietly, having stopped and turned to see what was holding me up.
I couldn’t look at him. If I did, I was going to lose it. I just kept breathing heavily, trying to get my emotions and physical reactions under control. He probably already thought I was a baby, but to have him actually see me crying like one was too much.
He slowly walked back to me, and I stared at the ground, knowing there was no way I could look into those eyes and hold my composure. Sadness was leaking out of every pore of my body.
I could feel him staring down at me silently, waiting for me to do something, but my throat was on fire, filled with tears and anger and disappointment.
Why hadn’t I emotionally prepared myself for this possibility? I told myself that I’d be okay no matter what he did, that I wasn’t going to take it personally, but oh, god, I was. I was so far from okay right now, it wasn’t funny. I was devastated and it was all hitting me now.
