Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Great,” my mom says, patting his hand. “If you’ve settled here, you won’t take my daughter away to a faraway place like Russia.”
“Mom!” My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Alex and I—”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” Alex says in his hypnotic Russian accent. “I have a house in Brooklyn.”
I turn a glaring gaze on him, but he’s immune to my scolding, putting on a charming show for my mom as he compliments her on the food and asks questions about her medical condition, obviously a subject they discussed before my arrival.
Mom falls head over heels for Alex’s charm, not that I can blame her. He’s good at making conversation and showing a genuine interest in her life and her daughter—me. Over the course of the dinner, they chat like old friends, with Alex doing his best to draw me into the conversation, and then they talk about their favorite local dishes and share a few laughs about anecdotes from my childhood over after-dinner tea.
It’s close to ten o’clock when we finally clear the table.
“My goodness,” Mom says, gathering our dirty bowls, “I haven’t laughed this much in ages.” She pauses to pat Alex’s arm. “I’m so glad you came over.” Giving me a chiding look, she adds, “I can’t fathom why Katie hasn’t invited you sooner.”
“Yes,” he drawls, pinning me with one of his meaningful stares. “Me neither.”
When my mom makes her way to the sink, Alex intercepts her. “Let me take that.” He takes the bowls from her hands. “This is heavy.”
“Oh”—Mom gives him another approving look—“that’s so gallant of you. Thank you very much.”
While I rinse the dishes, Alex packs the dishwasher, brushing our hips together on purpose every time he reaches for a bowl. Mom gives us space, wiping down the counters and the table as she hums contentedly to herself.
The kitchen is spotless before Alex and I say our goodbyes. Mom must assume that we’ll leave together in his car, because she kisses Alex on the cheek like an old acquaintance when she sees us off at the door and says, “Please make sure Katie locks her door.” She adds in a conspiratorial tone, “Unless you’re staying over at her place, of course. Then you can lock the door yourself.”
She did not just say that. I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.
“Bye, Mom.” I grab Alex’s arm and all but drag him to the street before he can make a promise I don’t intend to keep.
A midnight-blue sports car is parked across the street. I noticed the fancy car absentmindedly when I arrived, but I thought it belonged to someone visiting the neighbors. It doesn’t surprise me when Alex heads in that direction. Neither does the presence of the black car parked a short distance away. Alex brought protection.
The minute my mom closes the door after a last wave, I let go of Alex’s arm as if it’s on fire and put distance between us.
“How could you do that?” I grit out, keeping my voice low so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the neighbors.
His mouth curves as he looks down at me. “Do what?”
“Don’t play games with me. How could you drag my mom into this?”
He shrugs. “I wanted to meet her. Isn’t that how it works? We go on a few dates, I send you flowers and all the things women like, and then you introduce me to your parents.”
“You had no right to come here.” I take a breath and moderate my tone. “My mom is unwell, Alex. She’s suffering enough as is. I don’t need to add disappointment to her burden.”
He watches me quietly for a few moments. Just when I think he’s not going to grace me with an answer, he wraps his arms around me and pulls me close. “You’re shivering. It’s cold.”
His warmth seeps through my clothes and penetrates my skin. It feels good to be in the circle of his arms, but I’m not going to admit it.
“I didn’t mean to upset you or your mother,” he says in a soft tone. “I just wanted to take this to the next level since you seem too stubborn to admit we deserve a chance.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble against his chest, not fighting his tight hold.
“I’d hate to disappoint your mother. I really like her. I meant it when I said she’s nice. So why don’t you come home with me, and everyone will be happy.”
“Everyone?”
I pull away to look into his eyes. Snowflakes are falling around us, clinging to his dark lashes. The blue of his eyes is gray in the dim glow of the yellow lamplight. That gray bleeds into the black of his pupils, but the lack of color doesn’t make the look in them any less intense.