Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Neither option sits well with me.
We pull up to the private clinic through the rear alley. Viktor meets us at the door, already gloved. He says nothing as he takes Radimir inside. I stay in the hallway. Alek lights a cigarette next to the rear door and leans against the brick.
He waits until the door closes behind them before speaking.
“So. How were your ‘plans’ tonight?”
I glance at him. “And you’re tracking my movements now?”
He shrugs. “I put two and two together.”
I don’t answer right away. I just watch the trail of smoke curling up from his hand.
“It was a nice night,” I finally say, keeping it vague.
Alek raises an eyebrow. “Is she worth the effort?”
This catches me even more off guard. Am I that transparent?
“Yes,” I say.
He watches me for a beat, then grins. “Are you gonna break your one-night rule for her?”
I consider it for a moment then nod.
Alek exhales smoke and shakes his head. “Well, fuck.”
11
LYRA
When I get back to my apartment, it’s the wrong side of midnight. Becca is on the couch, curled up in her favorite oversized hoodie, a half-eaten pint of cookie dough ice cream melting on the coffee table. The glow of the paused TV screen lights up her face, but her smile gives her away.
Her smirk deepens as I try to sneak past her to my room.
“Well, well, well, Ms. Taylor,” she says. “It’s way past your bedtime.”
I let out a slow breath and kick off my heels. My whole body aches in the best way, and my face is hot with the embarrassment of getting caught. I toss my clutch onto the counter and try not to look too giddy.
I laugh. “Don’t start. You have no room to talk.”
“Oh, I’m starting,” Becca says, sitting up straighter. “Because I know that walk of shame better than anyone.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m still smiling. “It’s not a walk of shame,” I protest. “It’s barely even tomorrow. Besides, he sent me home in a car.”
She pats the couch beside her. “Tell me everything.”
I hesitate for half a second. Part of me wants to keep this to myself. Tonight was so raw and intimate in a way I didn’t expect.
But this is Becca. We’ve been friends for most of my life. She’s as much of a sister to me as my actual sister, Maddie, without the awkward family obligation.
“Well,” I begin, sitting down on the sofa and tucking my legs under me. “He picked me up in a town car.”
“Of course he did,” she says, eyes wide.
“And then we had dinner at this restaurant he rented out. Just for the two of us. It had floor-to-ceiling windows, a skyline view, the whole shebang.”
Becca just stares in awe.
“You’re kidding!” she squeals. “That’s gotta be the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard in my life!”
“I know, right?” I grin. “Romantic and so very extravagant.”
“And?”
I bite back a grin. “And it was amazing. Ten out of ten, no notes, would highly recommend. The food, the view, the company. It was the perfect night!”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “And you were at the restaurant until after midnight?”
Heat floods my face, and I try desperately not to show it.
“Some things I’m allowed to keep to myself.”
“Fine, I get it,” she huffs, fake-offended. “No need to tell your closest friend in the whole world whether you swiped your v-card or not.”
I glance down at my lap and let out a quiet laugh. “Nobody’s said v-card since, like, 2010,” I murmur.
Becca lets out a low whistle and shakes her head. “Damn. You totally slept with him!”
I lean back into the cushions. The exhaustion is hitting me now, but the warmth in my chest hasn’t faded. It probably won’t for a while.
“He was really gentle with me,” I say, happiness swelling so full it might burst. “It didn’t even bother him that I was a virgin. He was so sweet about it.”
“I bet he was.” Becca laughs, then gets more serious. “But doesn’t it bother you? That he’s your boss?”
I shrug, but the movement feels heavy, like a stone settling in my chest.
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “Maybe it should. But it doesn’t.”
“It could get really messy really fast,” she warns. “I don’t mean to yuck your yum, but it’s giving a power imbalance. Like how old even is he?”
I glance at her. “He’s older,” I say vaguely.
She shoots me an annoyed look. “No shit, Sherlock. I’m looking for a number.”
“I don’t know exactly,” I say with a sigh. “Maybe mid-forties?”
“So, twice your age,” she says.
“I can do the math, Becca, and it’s not a big deal.”
Becca looks at me for a long moment, like she’s trying to figure out how deep into this I already am. I can’t tell if she’s truly worried or just surprised because this is all so far outside my norm. Maybe it’s a little of both.