I groan under my breath and drop to my knees with the mangled present. Shove it under my side of the bed. Wrinkled paper, crooked tape, the whole mess, but whatever. It’s hidden now.
I head to the living room, but he’s not there.
The clank of a weight hitting metal makes me roll my eyes.
I follow the sound down the hall and step into the home gym. There he is, topless in just black workout shorts slung low on his hips, one leg pulled up behind him as he stretches. His hand grips his ankle, that V-cut slicing deep into his hips while his abs flex with every shift of his body.
I swallow hard and try not to stare. Whatever’s coming after his dad’s reaction to finding us together, I just hope it’s not too bad. I don’t want them turning on him because of me. It’s so backwards and sad that this is even an issue.
Chapter 27
Alexei
The sound of music jolts me out of sleep. I sit up fast, my heart pounding against my ribs. I glance around the room. Kelly’s not in bed anymore.
I rub a hand down my face and listen to the music drifting through the house. I narrow my eyes. Is that … the Spice Girls? His playlist is a complete disaster, but I’ll keep that opinion to myself. If it makes him happy, fine.
I drag myself out of bed and follow the sound, which gets louder the closer I get to the kitchen. Something smells burnt, and yeah, that’s definitely the Spice Girls blasting through the speakers.
I stop in the doorway and spot Kelly humming while whisking something in a bowl, completely oblivious to my presence. My eyes drop to his pink socks with rabbits on them. I’m going to have to add those to my growing collection of his things.
I walk over to him and reach out and touch his shoulder.
He jumps like I tased him and smacks my hand away. “Jesus Christ. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
I walk over to the speaker and turn it off, then point to the pan on the stove. “Something’s burning.”
He turns around fast, swears under his breath, and flips the stove off. “I was trying to surprise you with pancakes. It’s what my mom used to do when I was sad.”
He moves the pan to the sink and runs water over it. The sizzle is violent and loud enough to make me wince. He leans forward and rests his forehead on the counter with his arms crossed over his head, letting out a long groan that sounds defeated.
Then he turns and scrunches his nose at me. “I’m really bad at cooking.”
“I am aware.”
He shoots me a look. “Thanks for the support.”
“I’m not going to lie and tell you you’re good at this. You’re not.”
He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, we’ve got two pancakes that aren’t burned. I was kind of hoping we could take a walk after? Just to clear our heads a bit?”
I glance out the window at the gray sky and bare trees. It looks miserable out there, windy and cold as hell.
“No,” I say flatly. “But I can fuck you so hard you can’t walk, then we eat those two sad pancakes.”
He opens his mouth like he’s going to argue, then closes it again. I don’t wait for a response. I walk over and lift him up over my shoulder, smacking his ass once to make him yelp.
I carry him to the kitchen island and set him down gently with my hands still around his hips, then lean in and crash my mouth to his. He tastes like cinnamon and pancake batter.
“It’s so sexy when you carry me around,” he murmurs against my lips.
I don’t answer with words. I kiss him again, slower this time, deeper, just so he’ll feel what I can’t say out loud. That I need this. That I need him. That I need to forget everything else for a while.
I feel his hands grab at my shirt. I want to bury myself in him until I forget the look on my father’s face, until none of it matters except this.
I swirl my tongue against his and pull him tight into me. Not letting him breathe properly. My mouth drags down his neck slowly with my teeth scraping against his skin. I suck hard just below his jaw to leave a mark.
I tug his shirt up and over his head, dropping it somewhere on the floor, then grab him by the waist with my grip rough and possessive.
