“Dude.” Nik gestured toward the doorway, as if Natasha were still there. “What are you doing?”
Tamping down on the urge to yell, Dimitri kept his gaze on his cup and his voice level. “She had a housing emergency and needed a place to stay. I offered.”
Nik blinked. “You offered?” Then he burst into laughter and nearly fell out of his chair. “Wait a second. You offered to let a woman you’re—”
“Watch it.” Dimitri growled.
“Listen, this isn’t the first time you’ve kicked me out of here so Natasha could come over. It’s just the first time she’s staying inmybedroom. What’s the deal? Are you guys roommates now instead of . . . whatever you were?”
Dimitri drained the rest of his cup and stuck it in the sink. “No.”
“So, you guys are still . . .”
“Chert.”Dimitri threw up his hands. “No, we’re not that either.”
Nik leaned his elbows back on the counter, making himself comfortable. “Is she living here?”
“For a few weeks.” Maybe more, if he had any say in the matter. “Until her apartment ceiling is fixed.”
“And she’s sleeping in my room?”
Dimitri glowered at him. “It’s the spare bedroom. You moved out.”
Nik waved that away. “And you’re not . . . you know.”
Rolling his eyes, Dimitri stomped over to the fridge and started pulling out stuff to make a protein shake. He didn’t particularly want one, but he needed to move, to burn off the excess energy incited by his dance with Natasha and his brother’s penetrating line of questioning. He slammed the carton of almond milk on the counter and muttered, “No, damn it, we’re not.”
For now.
The asshole had the nerve to snicker behind his back. “You’re basically roommates then.”
“We are not—” He cut himself off and shot Nikolai a glare.
His brother held his hands up in mock surrender. “Calm down. I’m just trying to get a handle on the situation. I’ve never known you to hang around with a woman you weren’t . . . you know.”
That was because he didn’t. Still, it rankled to have it pointed out so matter-of-factly. “I don’t need to explain myself to you. She’s a guest, and you’ll be nice to her.”
Nik squinted at him. “I’m always nice to her. You, on the other hand . . . you’re kind of a dick.”
Dimitri didn’t answer. Yeah, he’d said some shitty things to her. Usually because he didn’t think about how they’d sound until they were already out of his mouth, and being around her twisted him up, made him impulsive and foolish.
But he’d never claimed to be nice. As a choreographer, he was demanding and expected perfection, with a reputation for having a short temper. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel . . . No, he wouldn’t go there, not now. Nik was too perceptive. Maybe if he pretended to hear his phone ringing in the other room, he could run away.
Instead, Dimitri grabbed a bag of mixed berries from the freezer and dumped them in the blender. The loud whirr of the motor filled the kitchen, prohibiting conversation. But the second the shake was done, Nik spoke again, his tone thoughtful.
“You once said you wouldn’t live with a woman unless you planned to marry her.”
Shit, he had said that, hadn’t he? After Juliette Jacobs laughed in his face fifteen years ago, he’d vowed never to live with a woman unless he was sure it was the real deal.
Dimitri shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “What’s your point?”
Nik stared at him, his brown eyes—a shade lighter than Dimitri’s own—wide and filled with disbelief. “You’re planning tomarryher?”
“No.” Not that he was averse to the idea, but right now, he wasn’t sure.
“So, you didn’t mean it when you said that?”
“I did.” He intended to use this time alone with Natasha in his house to become sure about her, to see if they had more of a connection beyond sex and dancing. For that, he had to get Nik to leave. “Get a hotel.”
