Drawing in a breath, I went over to the door and walked out to join him. “Hey you,” I said.
Maksim whirled around. “Hey.”
“What are you doing out here by yourself?”
“Just g-getting some fresh air.”
Nibbling on my lip, I decided it was best to go ahead and rip off the bandaid. “Is everything okay with you and Dima?”
“Not exactly.”
I nodded. “I kinda got that vibe. Especially after what he told me on the dance floor.”
His brows slanted. “What d-did he say?”
“Some really weird shit,” I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
But Maksim didn’t smile. Instead, he continued staring intently at me. “Right. The truth.” I closed the gap between us. “Apparently there’s something I could find out about you that would drive me away. He wants me to give you a chance.”
A myriad of emotions swirled in his dark eyes. “He said t-that?”
“Yeah.” I placed my hands on the railing and stared out at the water. “It was so strange because the whole night I was thinking he hated me because I wasn’t Russian or that he thought I was a gold digger.”
“But he d-doesn’t.”
Turning to him, I shook my head. “No. He doesn’t.”
Maksim took my hand off the railing and brought it to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss on it. I shifted over to press myself against him.
“T-There is something I need t-to t-tell you.”
My heart clenched as he failed his triggers. Whatever he had to say was devastating to him, and in turn, it would be to me.
The door to the terrace burst open. With a beaming smile, Kira waved at us. “Come on, guys. We’re going to toast the couple.”
“Later,” Maksim looked at me and replied.
With my heart threatening to beat out of my chest, I nodded. Maksim kept my hand in his as he led us across the terrace.
Kira slipped her arm through my other one. “Listen, after they toast, you need to shout, “Gorko!”
“I do?”
She laughed. “It’s usually a wedding reception tradition, but Mila is embracing Kellan’s Irish heritage for that.”
“What does it mean?”
Before Kira could answer, Maksim replied, “B-Bitter.”
I threw a glance at his impassive face before turning back to Kira. She rolled her eyes at him. “Jesus, Maks, that doesn’t tell her shit.”
“It’s what the word means.”
“While Maks is right, you keep yelling to keep the couple kissing, which is to make the champagne taste sweet.”
An ache twisted through my chest. “That’s so beautiful.”
Kira giggled. “Oh, it’s corny as hell, but it’s tradition.”
