“If you really don’t feel up to it,” I say, still rubbing slow circles over her stomach, “I guess I’ll just go by myself.”
Her arm drops from her face immediately.
She glares at me. “Wait. Are you trying to pity me?”
“Just a little.”
Her eyes narrow.
“You’re my plus one, you have to fucking go!”
Her mouth falls open. “Damn it. I knew it. I knew you weren’t actually going to let me stay.” She sits up fast, glaring. “I want to stay home.”
“Ayla, no.”
She groans like I’ve told her I’m taking her to execution. “Then I’m not wearing heels.”
“You’re wearing heels.”
“No.”
“Yes. Everyone will be wearing heels.”
She folds her arms again. “Everyonewill be wearing heels?”
“The women will be wearing heels, Ayla.”
She looks me up and down. “You should try those stupid, uncomfortable feet manglers.”
I stare at her.
She stares back.
Then the corner of her mouth twitches.
I exhale through my nose.“Ayla.”
“Maksim.”
“Put on the fucking heels.”
She flops back dramatically again. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
She turns her head to glare at me. “Is your sister going to be there?”
“Katya? No, she’s not close to Adriana.”
“No the other one. The one who looks at me like I’m dirt under her shoe.”
“Yes, Vasilisa will be there.”
“Great,” she mutters. “Wonderful. That sounds like exactly what I want while I’m bleeding and angry.”
“Vasilisa was more angry with me then she was with you that day.”
“She’sstillangry at you,” she grumbles.
