I helped her wash her face, gave her another comforting squeeze, then sent her on her way, leaving me to clean up. As I disposed of the used pregnancy tests and wiped down the sink, I smiled at the thought of another niece or nephew to spoil. I’d have to get that from Lev and Mina, because—let’s be honest—Sasha wasn’t going to give me that.
It wasn’t that he was a manwhore or that he had commitment issues. Actually, it was the exact opposite.
I hadn’t seen Sasha with a woman in years, which didn’t mean much. I was sure he still got some. He was just uber discreet about it. And unless he was willing to introduce us to a woman, he sure as shit wasn’t going to have a baby with her.
So, when I arrived at Sasha’s later that night and saw the cars parked out front, I knew I was likely the last to arrive, as per usual. I let myself in and heard Sasha say, “You live down the path, Nastasia. Must you always be tardy?” That confirmed it.
He stood wearing a scowl with both hands on his hips like a disappointed father. Looked like one too in his dark-gray suit and impatient stance.
I removed my coat and placed it in the hall closet, then walked toward him, wearing a wide smile. “Nice to see you too, brother.” When I got close enough, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek briefly. He continued to glare at me, his golden eyes darkening slightly. I rolled my eyes and walked past him. “Relax. God, I’m here now. Let’s eat.”
Following the sounds of conversation into the living room, I entered the room and stopped in my tracks.
“There you are,” said Mina.
“Nastasia, must you always be late? Mina’s hungry.” That was Lev.
Anika was next. “Hey, honey.”
Then Cora. “About time you got here, bitch.”
But my eyes were fixed.
Vik moved to sit up the moment he heard my name, my three-year-old niece, Lidiya, hanging upside down in his muscly arms, giggling, her curly pigtails dangling from her head. And my uterus awoke.
Fuck me with a jackhammer.
Please, God. I beg you. Have mercy.
It was hard enough seeing the dark-haired, blue-eyed, built man be his beautiful, tattooed self, but playing with a child?
Ugh.
My heart stood no chance against that. None at all.
“Nas” was all he said. His whisky-smooth voice may as well have been whispered into my ear as goosebumps lined my arms. His intense gaze caressed me from across the room. I felt him everywhere.
This wasn’t new. This was how things were with us. We had an extreme effect on one another.
The best thing we could do for the sake of everyone around us was simply get along, and for a while, we did just that. But lately, Vik had been itching for an argument.
How could I tell?
Because he was doing everything possible to push my buttons. He made no effort to hide it either. If he wasn’t questioning my every decision, he was blatantly flirting with the dancers at Bleeding Hearts or making crude jokes to get a rise out of me. I knew he was hurt, so I kept it together, but my God, my patience had worn thin.
In short, Vik was punishing me. Again.
From behind me, with the king of all sighs, Sasha announced, “Let’s eat.”
The conversation was moved to the dining room, and once everyone was seated, Sasha got right to it. I should have been listening, but I wasn’t. I was too focused on the man sitting opposite me who looked to be undressing me with his eyes.
I swallowed hard and squirmed in my seat, staring down at my untouched plate.
When I chanced a look at him again, his eyes dipped to my throat, and the way his lips tipped up at one corner told me he noticed.
God, he looked amazing in black fitted jeans, a light-gray Henley, and the white Lacoste court master sneakers I’d bought him just because I thought they’d look good on him.
Spoiler alert—they did.
With his dark hair cut into a low fade with texture on the top, my hands clenched into fists under the table as I itched to run my fingers through it. I could almost feel his neatly trimmed stubble scraping along my inner thigh.
A shudder swept over me.
I picked up my fork and held it in distraction.
And Jesus wept.
My eyes landed on the Cupid’s bow of his full mouth. It was sweet torture just looking at him. As the tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, my fork fell from my hand and onto my plate with a clatter. Then everyone was staring at me.
“What do you think about that, Nastasia?” Vik asked, blinking slowly, knowing full well I hadn’t been listening.
Uh….
“What?” was my very smart, very croaky response.
“About what Sasha said,” he prompted, his fingertips playing with the condensation on his glass.
My eyes narrowed slightly. “I think it’s great.”
“You could at least pretend to listen.” Vik’s smile did not reach his eyes. “But then, I know how flighty you are.”
Flighty?
My stomach clenched painfully.
This bitch.
Well, I guess we were doing this. “Are you sure you understood what was said?” My blood went from a quiet simmer to a vicious boil. “Sasha does use big words. I know that confuses you sometimes.”
“Guys,” Mina pleaded but was quickly cut off.
Cora sighed at the same time. “Can we not?”
“Are you getting what you need from this conversation?” Vik lifted his glass and sipped from it. “Maybe there’s another conversation out there that you’d be getting more from. I know how when you’re done with conversing with me, you like to run into a little French conversation.”
Anika gasped lightly.
Holy shit. He went there.
I was officially pissed and leaned in slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart girl. You can figure it out.”
Standing up so roughly that my chair warbled loudly, I pointed at him and spoke through gritted teeth, “Kitchen. Now.”
The footfalls behind me told me he was following, and when I stalked into the next room and opened the door to the walk-in pantry, I all but shoved him in there and shut the door behind us.
“I can’t believe you,” I whisper-hissed, and when I spun around to face him, I probed, “What is your goddamn problem?”
Vik crossed his arms over his chest, looking bored.
Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare look so unaffected. Not when we both knew better.
I hated that.
My expression pleading, I spoke softly. “I’m trying here, Vik. I’m really trying. Do you think this is easy for me?” My feet moved as I began to pace. “I see you at work. I see you at home. Somehow, you’re always where I am. And, let me tell you, having you act like an ass doesn’t help. If I’m being completely honest, it hurts.”
But he was unmoved.
“This is what you wanted, Nas,” he muttered, uninterested. “I never said I’d pretend to be happy about it.”
Was he serious?
No. I never wanted this. “Can’t we just get along? For everyone else’s sake?”
“Get along?” His eyes darkened as he took a step toward me, then another. “Is that what you want?”
Why did he have to be so handsome?
Why did he push up his sleeves like that, giving me an indecent view of his lightly veined forearms? Damn it. He knew how much I liked that.