"So, Sasha," Pavel says, his voice a little too loud, a little too friendly. "What brings you to our neck of the woods? Besides the unfortunate car accident, I mean."
"Just passing through." Sasha's response is smooth, practiced. "Needed some time away from the city."
"Which city?"
"New York." I glance at Sasha with a raised eyebrow before I realize he was just throwing out a name since he doesn't know where he lives.
Pavel nods, but his fingers tap against his mug in a rapid rhythm that betrays his nerves. "Long way from home. What do you do there?"
"Security consulting." The lies continue to fall from his lips.
"Interesting." Pavel's eyes flick to me, then back to Sasha. "Must be dangerous work. You look like you can handle yourself."
"I manage."
The conversation feels like a chess match, each man probing for information while revealing nothing. I sip my coffee and try to look relaxed, but my heart is hammering against my ribs.
Pavel turns his attention to me, and his expression softens. "How have you been, Maya? I worried about you during that last storm. The power was out for two days at my place."
"I was fine. The generator held up." I smile, trying to project normalcy. "Thanks for checking."
"Of course." He reaches across the table like he might touch my hand, then seems to think better of it when Sasha's eyes narrow. "You know I'm always here if you need anything. Anything at all."
The emphasis on the last words makes my cheeks warm. Pavel's crush on me has been obvious for months, manifesting in weekly visits that last longer than necessary and offers to help with repairs I don't need. I've tried to be kind but distant, not wanting to encourage him when I have no interest in anything beyond neighborly friendship.
"I appreciate that," I say carefully. "You're a good friend."
The word "friend" lands like a stone, and Pavel's smile falters slightly. He adjusts his glasses again, clearing his throat. "Right. Well. Friends help each other." He glances at Sasha. "How long are you planning to stay? I mean, once the roads clear, you'll probably want to get your car towed, get back to New York."
"I haven't decided yet." Sasha's voice is casual, but his posture is anything but. He's leaning back in his chair, one arm draped over the back of my chair, his body language screaming possession. "Maya's been kind enough to let me recover here. I'm in no rush."
Pavel's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "That's generous of her. Maya's always been the helpful type." He turns to me. "Remember when you first moved here? You didn't know anything about living off-grid. I spent weeks teaching you about the generator, the well pump, and how to winterize the pipes."
"I remember." I do remember, and I remember being grateful for his help while also being careful to maintain boundaries. "You were very patient with all my city-girl questions."
"You're a fast learner." Pavel's smile is warm, genuine, and tinged with something that looks like longing. "I always thought you were too smart to be hiding out here in the middle of nowhere. You could do anything, be anywhere."
The comment hits too close to home, and I see Sasha's eyes sharpen with interest.
"It's lonely up here. I know because I'm lonely too. It's nice having someone who understands, someone to talk to." He pauses. "I've been meaning to ask if you'd like to come to dinner sometime. At my place. I make a mean pot roast."
The invitation hangs in the air, awkward and hopeful. I open my mouth to decline politely, but Sasha speaks first.
"That's kind of you to offer," he says, his tone pleasant but his eyes cold. "But Maya and I have plans for the foreseeable future."
Pavel blinks. "Plans?"
"We're working through some things together." Sasha's hand finds mine on the table, his fingers lacing through mine with casual possessiveness. "It might take a while."
I should pull my hand away, should correct the implication that we're together in any official capacity. But the warmth of his palm against mine, the solid presence of him beside me, makes me stay silent.
Pavel's face flushes red, and he stands abruptly. "Right. Of course. I didn't mean to assume." He grabs his coat from the back of the chair, fumbling with the zipper. "I should get going, anyway. Lots to do before the next storm hits."
"Pavel, wait." I stand too, guilt twisting in my stomach. "You don't have to leave."
"No, really, it's fine." He's already backing toward the door, his smile forced and brittle. "I'll check on you next week. Unless you don't need me to anymore."
"It was nice meeting you, Sasha," Pavel says, though his tone suggests otherwise. "Take care of her."
