“Milk?” I asked.
“Blya—” He caught himself, and hid the pause by rubbing his chin, which was both ingenious and convincing. “No, didn’t think of that. I can pick some up tomorrow.”
“Vitali…” I took a deep breath, unsure of how l could address his generosity without bringing attention to the fact that I hadn’t spoken to him in a month. But that was vulnerability, wasn’t it? Honesty? The relinquishing of control that’d stretched me thin for so long. Not just the apartment, because that would be easy, but the knowledge that if I needed something I could asksomeone else. Depend onsomeone else.
If I needed milk, he would pick it up tomorrow.
He was merciful in that he didn’t look at me when I said, “I don’t know how to… I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I told you, I’ll take care of it. Of you.”
“You didn’t have to…”
“I’m fully aware of what I do, and don’t have to do,” he snapped, but not with anger. “I brought you some meat pastries; there weren’t a lot of choices at this hour. I want to see you eat one before I leave.”
He pushed the neat wax paper bundle toward me. It did smell nice, and my stomach growled, but I wasn’t sure if I could keep it down with the kitchen being so woozy.
Vitali pulled a pen and paper off a shelf and sat down beside me, scribbling. “Here is your new phone number. You don’t have to give me this one either.”
‘How long has Vitali known Katya?’Sergei’s voice sounded through me like soured milk.
“Here is your new address. Cross streets. Here is the nearest pharmacy, market, and ice cream stand.”
I couldn’t resist a low chuckle, then leaned my head on an open palm, watching him write. Perfect script, of course. My own handwriting needed help. Sometimes the girls at work joked that my paperwork belonged on the walls of ancient pyramids.
“This is your mailbox number. Here’s the apartment. We’re on the seventh floor, but there’s an elevator. I’ll lay out all your keys—but you should know I have a full set of my own, and that’s not negotiable.”
It shouldn’t have been so comforting to hear… but at that moment, things felt so easy. For the first time in years, they were manageable. Uncomplicated.
“I missed you…” I said, because the words became too big to fit inside. His hand stopped moving, and he looked up, although I couldn’t quite read his expression.
“I missed you, too,” he said quietly after a moment, and his hand twitched so lightly I could almost imagine him dropping the pen to put it—
He did drop the pen, and caught his fingers in my hair—pulling me in. Our lips met. Softly, not like the first time. He didn’t crush me against him, and it wasn’t starved. Just tender. Drawn out. Our bodies, our mouths, and the soft caress of touch repeated the words.
I missed you.
I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.
It had been the worst day of my life, and then Vitali came—and he made it better. He made itallbetter.
My body sang,I missed you.
His breath tangled with mine.I missed you.
My hand rested on his chest, and his moved to cup my neck.I missed you.
His tongue melted into mine, and the heat on our lips sent shivers trailing every nerve ending I didn’t realize I had. When I felt his groan shudder through me, it wasn’t enough—it would never be enough.I missed you.
I leaned into it first, but he leaned harder. The chairs scraped and creaked as they toppled over, and I slammed into the wall with his weight against me.I missed you.
I wanted to drown in that kiss. I wanted to be the kiss, because no part of it felt like it gave me enough of him, and I neededmore. He threw my body upward, my feet leaving the ground, and my weight supported only by his hand and forearm under my butt. We never broke what turned into an aching need to consume each other. I wrapped an arm around his neck, the other sliding down the curve of his back. He shifted to support my body and keep himself from crushing me against the wall. Lips—tongues—we moved, we drank each other in as zealously as we could.
I missed you. I missed you. I missed you.
A jolt of pure electric thrill seized me as the hard length of him pressed against my inner thigh. I never thought I’d want a concussion from being thrust against the wall, but here we were, and the immediate need burned me alive from the inside.
“Kaaaaatyyyyyaaaa!” came from the other room.
