“Me too,” I said. I just hoped we were strong enough to stick to our agreement.
Surprisingly, we did. Jay took my desk chair while I lay on my bed, and we talked for hours. Now the barriers between us had been lowered, it was all so easy and natural. I found myself telling him things I’d never told anyone, about my art, about my half-formed ideas and hopes for the future when I was free of my obligations, and about how I could combine my passion with my business degree to provide art education or even therapy. In turn, he told me about his own ambitions to not only run the accounting side of his dad’s business, but to start his own accountancy firm providing services to small businesses throughout the Cotswolds. We shared the music and films we liked, and as the sun began to rise and we moved on to our favourite books, he read to me fromThe Poetical Works of Lord Byron.
“…There are seven pillars of Gothic mould,In Chillon’s dungeons deep and old…”
My eyelids fluttered closed as I snuggled into my pillow. It felt as if I were dreaming, lying here in a former prison cell with a gorgeous man reading poetry to me. I could listen to his smooth, deep voice forever.
My lids grew heavier. The last thing I was aware of was a soft press of lips against my forehead, and then I was lost to my dreams.
27
JAY
Coach Lazovsky’s face filled the TV screen in our lounge. Ryker had connected his laptop to our TV for our team meeting, going through tactics for our next home game. The whole hockey team were crowded into the space, which, although large, did not have enough seating for a whole team’s worth of fully grown men. We normally had team meetings in person, but Coach had shit to do that none of us wanted to ask about in case we were implicated in whatever he was up to, so here we were. I’d seated myself as far away from Volkov as possible, sprawling on the floor beneath the window while he sat across the other side of the room in one of the armchairs like a king on his throne.
I picked up my phone, tuning out Coach’s low drawl, and navigated to my ongoing message thread with Nova, aka “Byron.”
Me:
Sparring session? Are you serious?
Byron:
Why? Are you scared you’ll lose?
Me:
No. I’ve seen you sparring with Ry. I know your tricks
Byron:
Or so you think. Maybe I have tricks you don’t know about…
Me:
Hmm. Not sure your fiancé would be happy with me raising my fists to you
Byron:
True. He wouldn’t be happy with the other thing you raised to me either, but that didn’t stop you
Images flashed through my mind. Fuck. If I ended up with a boner during a team meeting, I’d?—
Any dick-related worries were suddenly gone when I raised my head and accidentally met Volkov’s hard gaze. My dick pretty much shrivelled up and died at the look on his face. Clearing my throat, I drew up my knee and slung my arm across it in a casual pose, keeping my expression as blank as I could. Did he suspect something? I’d been careful when I’d gone to Nova’s room—waiting until the uni had emptied out and most people were in their bedrooms, and I knew that Volkov was in his own room in North Wing. I’d verified that myself when I’d dropped in to see Ryker after I’d been to the gym. There was no way I wanted to risk her getting into trouble, and I’d been truthful when I told her I was only there to talk.
That had gone out of the window the second I’d seen the drawing. Seen the way she’d taken so much care over it, the detail that had gone into it, the way she’d captured thedetermination on my face—I couldn’t keep my distance from her any longer. And she’d come to me willingly, wanting me like I wanted her.
It had been easy to pretend when it was just the two of us. Easy to push aside the reasons that this thing between us was getting dangerously out of hand. It wasn’t so easy now, with Anton Volkov staring me down, his presence reminding me of everything we stood to lose if he found out what we’d done. It was one thing for him to think I had a thing for Nova—it probably appealed to his arrogance, to have other men jealous that he was engaged to her—but it was another to disrespect him by actually making a move.
With that in mind, I sent Nova a reply.
Me:
We can’t. We need to keep our distance. I don’t want to create any trouble for you
Byron:
I know you’re right. I just wish there was a safe way we could spend time together
