"Because I have better taste."
"Can't argue with that."
We ate and talked, and somewhere between the crab legs and the lobster tail, I realized I was having fun. Actual, genuine fun. The kind I hadn't had in months.
Mikhail cracked open a crab leg and extracted the meat with practiced efficiency. "So tell me something."
"Like what?"
"Something I don't know about you."
I thought about that, twirling my fork. "I wanted to be a marine biologist when I was a kid."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I was obsessed with dolphins. Had posters all over my room, watched every documentary I could find." I smiled at the memory. "My mom used to joke that I'd end up living in the ocean."
"What changed?"
"Reality, I guess. I realized I got seasick easily and that marine biology programs were competitive and expensive. So I switched to psychology." I shrugged. "Less glamorous, but more practical."
"You ever regret it?"
"Sometimes. But I like psychology too. Understanding people, why they do what they do. It's fascinating."
"Then analyze me." He leaned forward. "What do you see?"
I studied him, really looked at him. The hard lines of his face, the scars I could see peeking out from his collar, the intensity in his eyes that never quite went away.
"I see someone who's been through things he doesn't talk about," I said slowly. "Someone who's built walls to keep people out. But underneath all that, you're loyal. Protective. You care more than you want to admit."
Something flickered in his expression. "Anything else?"
"You're dangerous. But not to me. Never to me."
The air between us went electric. Mikhail's hand moved across the table, his fingers brushing mine.
"You're right," he said quietly. "I'd never hurt you, Shanice. I'd conquer the world before I let anyone touch you."
My breath caught. "That's intense."
"I'm an intense person."
"I've noticed."
He smiled, and it transformed his whole face. Made him look younger, less severe. "Your turn. What do you see when you look at yourself?"
I pulled my hand back, suddenly uncomfortable. "That's not fair."
"Why not?"
"Because I asked you first."
"And I answered. Now it's your turn."
I sighed, pushing shrimp around on my plate. "I see someone who's trying to put her life back together. Someone who's scared but pretending not to be. Someone who doesn't know if she'll ever feel normal again."
"You will."
