Skye
Yes.Yes, it was my Ruthless Ex.
The world around me faded to silence. The noise of the TV, the hum of the sports bar—gone. Yom. Yom Rustanov was here… in the same space as me for the first time in six years.
And this time, I didn’t get a chance to turn away or duck my head.
Yom was already watching me, his intense gray eyes magnetizing mine. For a heartbeat, I wondered how long he’d been studying me before I even noticed him.
I slid down from my stool with my wine glass still in my hand.
And he slid out of his booth with his razor-sharp gaze still locked on me as he crossed the room, closing the distance between us like an incoming tornado.
I should have put my wine glass back on the bar and walked out—escaped this confrontation I’d managed to avoid for six years. But his expression was even more intense than I remembered, freezing me in place like cornered prey. Like a…
Zayka...His voice whispered through my mind, the pet name from long ago ghosting over my skin.
“Lydia,” Yom said, coming to a stop right in front of me.
“Artyom,” I replied, straightening to my full height, which still left me well below his shoulder. I wasn’t intimidating, then or now.
Yom, on the other hand, remained every bit the hockey god, as if he’d been forged from pure Olympian steel and sent to Earth to make women swoon. His dark hair, swept back like it had been drawn by an anime artist, framed a face that was somehow even more chiseled perfection than before. Cheekbones? Razor-sharp. Jawline? Strong enough to sell a mewing course.
Years had etched faint lines around his piercing gray eyes, but they only added to his commanding presence. And, of course, his tailored dove-gray suit pulled the whole look together, making me feel suddenly self-conscious in the cheap sequined dress I’d bought a couple hours ago because I’d only packed business casual for the conference.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. “This is the last place I ever expected to see you.”
My mind stuttered at the sound of his voice. Six years had passed since I’d last heard it, and his English was nearly flawless now, lightly accented and smooth, without the quirks he’d once asked me to start correcting.
A memory floated through my mind.
“I am never caring about improving my English before. But I desire our wedding to be perfect, so, zayka, you will help your Yom improve,nyet?”
“Of course—as long as you know I love you just the way you are.”
Stupid, stupid girl.
I clamped my lips tight, pushing the memory away.
“What am I doing here? I’m going to a concert with my friend, Tess,” I replied, keeping it vague. I’d learned that with Yom, less was always better.
Even though I’d mentioned Tess, Yom’s eyes never left mine.
“We’re going to the sasha x kasha concert, too. My friend Geoff Latham got us tickets.”
Geoff Latham.
I’d never met any of the Lathams, but I knew the name. The Latham family owned AudioNation, and their red-glass skyscraper loomed so large in the Vegas skyline that my rideshare driver had told me the locals called it the Big Red Dildo. “You know, because of the way they be bending us over on ticket prices.”
But Yom claimed one of the Latham’s as a friend. Yom had friends now.
Another memory crept in.
“I am fine without friends. I have my family. And I have you,zayka. That is all I will ever want.”
My heart twisted. But I forced myself to stay present. “Okay, I hope you enjoy it.”
I couldn’t bring myself to lie and say it was nice to see him. So, I just finished with, “Well, bye.”
