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“How old were you when you got your first boyfriend, Carla?” Nikki asked me, as she wiped her eyes.
“I’m the wrong one to ask,” I said. “Boys were scared to ask me out because my dad was the reverend; you know, he might send them to hell or something, so no one asked me out for years and years.”
Tia lightened the mood that she had previously darkened. “Want to play Twister after dinner, Carla?” she asked, putting the spotlight back on herself.
Oh yes I did, but a private game only with The Russian.
I shook my head. “I have to warn you Tia, I am very, very good at Twister because I am hugely tall. My legs stretch easily from the green dots to the pink dots and I can still reach the blue dot at the far end with my hand while stretched out.”
Tia took this in, biting her lip as she thought.
“Are you any good at Monopoly?” she asked.
“Carla has to go straight home after dinner unfortunately, because her handsome date has to be at training at six in the morning,” The Russian told his little sister. “But next time we come over, I’ll find out what she’s not good at and let you know,” he said with a wink in her direction. She clumsily returned his wink – so cute.
I was in a mixed state of euphoria ... there was going to be a next time, but probably not a bed session with The Russian that night ... man, my hand was going to drop off if I had to perform any more functions on myself while picturing Alex in the act. I wasn’t even at deep kiss stage with him yet – what would it take to get laid by The Russian, even an intimate kiss, for crying in a bucket?
*****
On the way back to The Russian’s place, where I had left my car, The Russian looked over at me and smiled.
“Well you were a hit,” he said. “Mom really likes you.”
“That’s kind of her,” I said, “I really liked your family, too. Thank you for taking me to meet them.”
“She’ll give me a hard time now about making sure I follow you up and do the right thing, and she’ll be giving me all the reasons I should be seeing you or someone like you ...” he said, thinking out loud.
I was a bit taken aback. So, was this a good thing or a bad thing? Did he want to be encouraged to see me or was that going to be a pain in the butt?
“You sound like someone your mother likes wouldn’t be someone you would want to date,” I said, after a few moments.
He glanced at me with a look of surprise as if he hadn’t meant to say all that out loud.
The Russian turned his eyes back to the road. “I just meant that ... um, she’s only met a couple of my female friends over the years and she never liked my ex-girlfriend.”
“Leesa?” I asked.
“Yeah. She didn’t like her from day one when Leesa and I met at school ... always said she was a spoilt troublemaker, and Mom was right, but still ... I just meant that she’s got a look at you and is probably breathing a huge sigh of relief.”
“Oh well, she may change her mind when she gets to know me better,” I said.
The Russian glanced over, gave me a frown and looked away again.
“Why would you say that? Are you hiding something?” he asked.
“No,” I laughed. “I was just kidding. What would I be hiding?” I think I had tread on very dangerous ground there, I could almost feel The Russian bristling beside me. I wished I had known something about The Russian to be a bit forewarned ... no one seemed to know him. Sasha could tell me how dry his sense of humor was and how all the office girls liked him, but she didn’t know a thing about The Russian in love other than he and Leesa had seemed so unsuited ... had he been hurt to the point of no return? Was he a terrible flirt? Did he treat women well? All I knew was what I had read about his ex-girlfriend and her high profile party life which hadn’t told me much except he had been part of it or had tolerated it.
I looked over at him as he seemed to be thinking about my comments and after a few minutes, he pulled himself out of whatever dark thoughts he was having. He looked at me and smiled.
“Sorry, I guess you could call me gun-shy. I’ve had years and years of relationship lies and games ... I’m not up for it anymore, I’m trained to be suspicious. If we, you know, get serious ... do you believe in monogamy?”
I turned to look at him front on. Did I give some indication that I slept around?
“Are you seriously asking me this?”
“Sorry,” he said. He ran a hand over his face. For a normally laid back guy, the Russian was sweating it.
“If you need to hear it, then yes, I am a one-man woman. Good grief, just because you sporting guys tart around and get offered plenty of skirt, don’t assume the sporting women sleep around as well.” Wow, how did this conversation go so off track?
