I stood at the window watching his truck disappear down the street, ignoring the pointed cough Dmitri made from the couch.
“You're going to wear a hole in the floor,” Dmitri said. “The pacing won't bring him back any faster.”
“I'm not pacing.”
“You've walked past the window six times in the last three minutes. That's pacing.” He was sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, boots up on the coffee table, eating an apple he'd found somewhere in the kitchen. “Sit down. You're making me nervous.”
“Good. You should be nervous. Someone just tried to kill us.”
“Yeah, I know. I was here for it, remember?” He took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. “But standing at the window like some worried housewife isn't helping anyone, especially not you.”
I turned to glare at him. “I'm not worried.”
“Liar.” Dmitri grinned at me around the apple. “You're very worried. It's written all over your face. You're freaking out inside.”
“I'm not freaking out.”
“Again with the lying. You're bad at this today.” He finished the apple and tossed the core toward the kitchen. It landed in the sink from fifteen feet away, which was just him showing off. “So, we should talk about the elephant in the room.”
“What elephant?”
“The one where you're now fucking your stepfather.” His grin got wider. “This is a very interesting development.”
My jaw tightened. “We're not talking about this.”
“Why not? It's a good topic. Very entertaining.” Dmitri sat up, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You come back to Chicago, move in with the stepfather, and within weeks you're having sex on the kitchen table. This is an excellent story. I want the details.”
“You're not getting details.”
“Boring response.” He pulled out his phone and started scrolling. “But I'm curious. How does this conversation even start? Hello, stepfather, I would like to climb you like a tree now?”
“Fuck off, Dmitri.”
“No, no, I'm genuinely asking. Is this an American thing? Sleep with the family members after breakfast?” He was grinning like an asshole. “In Russia we have a saying aboutkeeping it in the family, but I didn't think you Americans took it so literally.”
“He's not my family. Not like that.”
“Ah, yes, because calling him stepfather makes it so much less weird.” Dmitri laughed. “I'm teasing. It's obvious you two have been dancing around this for a while. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife when I walked in.”
“There wasn't any tension.”
“Please. I'm good at reading these things.” He leaned back against the cushions. “And good for you, by the way. The man is very attractive. If you weren't already sleeping with him, I might have tried.”
“Don't even think about it.”
“Ah, there it is. The possessive jealousy. Very cute on you.” Dmitri's grin was pure mischief. “So how is he? Good in bed? He looks like he would be good in bed.”
“I'm not answering that.”
“Which means yes. Excellent news.” He stretched his arms above his head. “You know what's funny? You spent all this time trying to get away from him, and now you can't stop staring out the window waiting for him to come back. It's like a romantic comedy but with more violence and family dysfunction.”
I sat down in the chair across from him. “Are you done?”
“Never. But I'll pause for now.” He pulled his legs off the coffee table. “In all seriousness, Troy. You're happy? With him?”
The question caught me off guard. Dmitri rarely got serious about anything.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “I am.”
