He opened the passenger door for me, that small, almost-smile touching his mouth again. “You’ll get fed. We just need to make one stop first.”
I paused with one hand on the door and narrowed my eyes at him. “One stop where?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Sergei.”
“Leo.”
He said my name with enough amusement that I knew arguing would get me nowhere. It wasn’t like in the furniture stores, where he was fine stepping back and letting me control everything. I stared at him for another second, then got into the SUV with a sigh.
“Fine,” I said, buckling my seat belt. “But if this surprise doesn’t involve food at some point, I reserve the right to be grumpy for the rest of the day.”
“You’re sexy when you’re grumpy, so good luck with that.”
“Dammit.”
His smile deepened as he shut the door.
The interior of the SUV was all dark leather and luxury. As much as I earned, this type of vehicle was outside my tax bracket. I couldn’t help being a bit envious as he pulled out of the parking lot. I rested my head back against the seat and watched the city slide past the window, still feeling the strange warmth of the day clinging to me.
It was ridiculous how comfortable I had become beside him. Not comfortable enough to forget who he was, or who I was, for that matter. I wasn’tthatnaive. But comfortable enough that silence with him no longer felt uneasy. Comfortableenough that I could sit in his passenger seat, tired and hungry, and not feel the need to fill the space with defensiveness.
Sergei glanced at me when we stopped at a red light. “You’re in a good mood today,” he said slowly, as if he wasn’t certain he should even say the words.
I turned my head toward him, not bothering to hide my smile. “Am I?”
“Yes.”
“Are you complaining? Because I can go back to being grumpy and sexy.”
“No.” His fingers shifted on the steering wheel. “I’m just trying to understand the change.”
There was no accusation in his voice, only caution. As if he had learned not to trust kindness from me. As if he expected me to snatch it back the moment he started enjoying it.
Guilt pressed against my ribs.
I had been cruel to him. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes because I hadn’t known what else to do with the anger and grief and helplessness crowding inside me. Sergei had made an easy target because he stood close enough to everything I blamed. Close enough to Maxim. Close enough to the life that had taken Brad from me. Close enough that hating him had felt simple at first.
Except nothing about Sergei was simple anymore. I had feelings for him. Big feelings.
“I’m tired,” I said, looking back through the windshield. “Not physically. Well, yes, physically too, but that’s not what I mean. I’m tired of acting like I hate you.”
The SUV moved forward when the light changed. Sergei didn’t speak, but I felt him listening with the full weight of his attention.
“At first, I think I needed to hate you,” I continued. “Itgave me somewhere to concentrate all my emotions. It made sense in my head, even when it didn’t make sense anywhere else. But it takes a lot of energy to keep pretending something that isn’t true anymore.”
I rubbed my thumb over the seam of my pants, suddenly fascinated by the stitching. “How am I supposed to hate someone who keeps showing up for me? You feed me. You check whether I’m sleeping. You notice things about me when I’m too tired to notice them myself. You act like my comfort is something worth paying attention to, and I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to do with that, but I can’t hate you for it.”
Sergei was quiet long enough for me to wonder if I had said too much. When I finally looked over, his expression was difficult to read. “That’s…it?” he asked.
The question was soft and sounded disappointed.
“No,” I said.
His eyes flicked toward me before returning to the road. “No?”
I reached across the console and placed my hand over his, where it rested near the gear shift. He stilled beneath my touch, not pulling away, not moving closer, just going quiet.
