“Yes, thank you. I noticed.”
He didn’t comment on the heavy sarcasm in her tone. “What about Gina’s room? Can’t you stay in there while it’s being fixed?”
Natasha exhaled slowly through her nose and prayed for patience. “Like I said on the phone, there’s some kind of infestation in the building. I have to leave.”
He glanced around, like the chaos in the apartment suddenly made more sense. “That’s not good.”
No shit, Sherlock.She shoved the vacuum into the corner with more force than necessary. “What are you even doing here, Dimitri? I have a lot to do, and I’m exhausted.”
He quit his perusal of the room and gave her a wide grin. “I came to help.”
She stared at him. “Help with what?”
He propped his hands on his lean hips. “Whatever you need. Packing stuff, moving stuff. Just tell me where to bring it.”
Her chest tightened at the direct question, the one that had been on her mind since Manny delivered the news. “I . . . I don’t know.”
His brows creased. “What do you mean? Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know!” She gestured wildly at the mess around her as the words came tumbling out, powered by stress and anxiety. “I’m screwed. I can’t live here, but I don’t have the time or money to stay in a hotel or search for another apartment. And if I can’t figure it out, I’ll have to quitThe Dance Offand go back home to the Bronx to live with mymother.So, while I appreciate the offer, unless you can snap your fingers and conjure up a place for me to live in the next few hours, there’s nothing you can do to help.”
He laughed. The motherfucker actually had the nerve to laugh. She rolled her eyes and wound the vacuum cord in its holder.
“Tasha.”
She suppressed her annoyance. “What?”
“Is that all you need? A place to stay?”
Is that all?What an ass. “Yeah, that’s what I need.”
“You can stay with me.”
Natasha went still, her hand still on the cord. “What did you say?”
“I said, you can stay with me, at my place.”
He couldn’t be serious. Stay with Dimitri? It was a recipe for disaster. But where else could she go? She swallowed hard and shut her eyes. “Do you mean that?”
“Would I offer if I didn’t?”
He wouldn’t. He was an asshole most of the time, but he meant what he said. She straightened, biting her lip, and thought it over. On the one hand, it was an easy solution. If she let the building keep her deposit, she wouldn’t have to pay for storage for her furniture. Staying with Dimitri would be a hell of a lot cheaper than a hotel or moving into the first open apartment she could find. She could save money, and take her time finding a new place.
Not too much time, though. Dimitri was bad for her. He tempted her like no other man ever had, and her inability to say no to him sabotaged her best efforts at being a responsible adult. Just last night, she’d settled into bed early to make sure she was on time for her new job leading an early morning spin class. She was reading a book when Dimitri texted. A booty call. She knew it for what it was. And still, she got out of bed, put her contacts back in, slipped into something sexy, and drove to his apartment. The sex was great—it always was—but she’d fallen asleep in his bed and woken up too late that morning to run home to change. She’d had to teach a spin class in lace panties, which she would not recommend anyone do, ever.
And he would never give her more than that. He was up front about his womanizing and douchebaggery. He’d once told her to call first before coming over, to make sure he was alone. So, while she didn’t expect more from him, damn it, sometimes she wanted more. She didn’t know what that might be, exactly, but something that hinted at a greater depth of feeling, something she could hold close when she was alone at night, to remind herself that she mattered to someone.
Too bad she was an idiot who had the bad habit of wanting more from the people least likely to give it.
She couldn’t tell him any of that. Every time she’d tried to wiggle out of his propositions, he turned on the charm, wooing her with that deep, deliciously accented voice, that hot, lush mouth, and those hands that knew her body inside and out.
She licked her lips and voiced the one concern that might make him reconsider. “It’s a conflict of interest. You’re one ofThe Dance Offjudges. I’m one of the dancers.”
He waved away her objection. “No one cares about that. Besides, we’re not even filming right now. Who’s going to know?”
Natasha didn’t have his confidence. Being on a reality TV show was a lot like high school. No secrets, and everyone was messing around with each other. Dimitri wasn’t the only person on the cast she’d slept with, and he wouldn’t be the last, but there was a difference between hooking up and living together.
She tossed out another question, mostly to see what he’d say. “What about all the other women you bring home?”
