It made her feel trapped.
“Because,” she said, her eyes darting, trying to see past him. For an escape. “Because I need to!”
“Why? Why do you need to? Tell me.”
To her horror, her throat tightened with sudden emotion and she felt a familiar pricking as her eyes filled with tears.
“Because…nothingis in my control anymore!” she finally burst out, her shoulders sagging slightly afterwards.
Get it together, she screamed mentally. God, this was embarrassing. Why did she always find herself in embarrassing situations around him?
Lainey cleared her throat, pushing down the emotion that threatened to burst. Before she’d been abducted by aliens, before Nadine had died from breast cancer, she’d been doing well. More than well.
Away from the toxic relationship she’d had with her parents, Lainey had thrived. Her music had flourished. She’d loved to play piano again and rediscovered what had made her fall in love in the first place. It hadn’t felt like a chore, just to make her mother happy, just so her mother could brag about her to her fake socialite friends.
She’d grown up. Finally. She’d felt strong, independent.
But ever since Nadine, ever since her abduction, she’d reverted into the woman she’d once been. Bitter, lashing out at anyone she could, fighting because it felt better than being silent.
Her whole life, decisions had been made for her, forced on her. It was why she hated when anyone told her what to do, or criticized her. It felt like an attack and Lainey attacked back.
And it was all coming out, right at that moment, and it was hard to hide it from Kirov, who was forcing her to face him, to look at him, who wouldn’t let her turn away to lick her wounds in private.
“I…I just wanted to sit there,” she said, breathing in through her nose, dropping her gaze to look at Kirov’s chest, so she wouldn’t have to meet his eyes. “So I did.”
She was mortified when her voice came out so small. She was a wreck. An emotional wreck. One minute, she was angry, the next aroused, and now she was on the verge of having a meltdown.
You’re owed one, a little voice whispered. She hadn’t shed a single tear since Nadine had died. Not even since she’d been abducted. One small meltdown might even be healthy for her, at that point.
She didn’t want Kirov to see. She didn’t want him to think she was weak, though she’d told herself that she didn’t care what he thought, that he didn’t matter.
Lainey felt his warm hand squeeze the back of her neck. It made her bottom lip tremble.
Kirov didn’t say anything when he stepped into her. And just that once, Lainey allowed herself to press her forehead into his chest, her mini-UFO sliding away to accommodate Kirov, as if evenitknew she needed this.
His arms came around her, strong and sure, and their bodies pressed together, until she could feel his entire front against her.
When she inhaled, she discovered that his scent pleased her immensely. It wasn’t anything she could place. It was just…him.
Against her forehead, she felt subtle vibrations as he began to purr from deep in his throat. Even though she thought it odd, hearing it comforted her, made her muscles relax against him until he was practically holding her up. She heard his heartbeat thrumming, different from her own, slow and languid.
Something settled in her and calmed. Her breathing returned to normal.
And she realized something.
It felt right to have him hold her. Even though they barely knew one another, even though they bickered constantly, even though Lainey wasn’t sure whether she wanted to scream at him or bang his brains out…she couldn’t deny that Kirov gave amazing hugs.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though it was hard to say. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry I freaked out for a moment.”
“Never be sorry for that,luxiva,” he said and the words vibrated against her skin. “I should not have pushed you that way. But you frightened me when I saw you on the ledge.”
Lainey sighed against his tunic.
“You misunderstood what I said,” he said softly. “If you die, it is not as if the Fates simply end my life too. I would do it myself.”
She gasped and she pulled back to look up at him. His expression was serious, somber.
“That’s not funny,” she said, equally quiet.
