“What about you, Astrid?” he asks.
“I just graduated,” I say, watching him, weighing what to reveal. He feels like a locked door I can’t stop wanting to open.
He nods. “Seeing the world before you settle into it?”
“Not exactly. I’m looking into my past before deciding on my future.”
His brow lifts—interest sharpened, curiosity alive. And God help me, the warmth of that look feels like victory.
Around us, the world falls away. No passengers. No noise. Just honey-thick silence stretching between us.
“Your past is in Paris,” he concludes.
“My parents were from there. They died when I was little. I don’t even remember them, but I need to see where I come from before I decide what’s next.”
He shifts, his arm brushing mine. Neither of us move back.
“That’s a hard way to grow up,” he says.
“I was raised by good people. I’m grateful.”
He nods slowly. “What waits for you when you go back?”
“An unexpected job offer. I didn’t apply. I just… got it.”
“And that’s strange.”
“Very.”
He studies me, lips curving slightly. I can’t stop watching his mouth, the way it moves, the way his words fold over me.
“You don’t trust fate,” he says. “You think good things don’t just fall from the sky.”
“You’re a therapist,” I joke weakly.
“I just know better than to ignore something extraordinary when it appears.”
“And how do you know it’s extraordinary?”
His voice softens, slicing through my composure. “Because I’m looking at it.”
Heat spreads under my skin.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he adds, leaning in close enough that his breath grazes my cheek. “And those roses on your cheeks tell me I haven’t missed my mark.”
“I still don’t know that much about you,” I whisper.
“Still trying to control something you know you can’t control.”
His voice is the sweet and spicy music of sin.
My body screams, despite my brain’s protests.
My reason and my flesh have reached an impasse, and as Yuri brings a hand up and touches the side of my neck, as fireworks explode where his fingertips meet my skin, I realize that I’m about to relinquish control to a man I know nothing about—yet I crave like I might die without experiencing him.
“What are we doing?” I manage, my voice barely a whisper.
“It’s nice to see you’re holding yourself accountable for this, too. Love the ‘we’ part,” Yuri replies. “Come with me.”
