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I’m starting to see a different side to Alexei Koslov, a softer side that I’m not even sure he realized he had.
I appreciate his honesty about his past relationships, or lack thereof.
Part of me is surprised. For someone as devastatingly handsome as he is, he could have any girl he wants. But I can also understand his hesitation about getting close to someone when you live a life like ours.
It was why I had barely dated myself, and why it hurt even more when Jack had betrayed me like he did.
Not only did he break my trust in him, he broke the trust I had with myself. I opened up to him in a way that I never had before, with anyone, and he had to pay the price in the end.
But with Alexei, it’s different. He gets it. He gets me.
And I like to think that I’m starting to get him.
Perhaps we were a perfect match after all…
He’ll be gone a while, and though I never expected it, I’ll actually miss him.
Alexei comes home after a few days in the city to find me with my head bent over the toilet throwing up everything that I’ve managed to keep down over the last few hours.
“Go away,” I croak as he forces his way into my bathroom.
“I brought you some water.” He leans onto the counter.
I lean back against the tub and let my eyes close.
A cool towel dabs at my forehead, and I sigh as Alexei wipes the sweat from my brow.
“Micha told me you’ve been ill for a few days. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
“It’s okay. It’s probably for the best if you don’t see me like this.”
“I want to see you in every possible way, ptichka.”
I want to appreciate his sweet words, but all I can focus on is the urge to vomit as I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. “Food poisoning sucks.”
“I go to the city for a few nights, and you fall to pieces without me.”
“Hey, I’m a good cook.”
“Clearly. You know I employ a perfectly good cook to make food for you?”
My eyes flutter open, and I wince as my stomach churns.
“Drink some water, ptichka.”
“I wanted to feel useful.” I take the cold glass and slowly sip some of the liquid. “Hopefully, I can sleep this off tonight. It’s been over forty-eight hours.”
“It might be a bug, but I agree. You need rest.” Alexei sets the clean towel on the back of my neck. It feels good. “Do you want me to call a doctor?”
“No, I’m fine. It’ll pass soon.”
Once I’m certain I won’t vomit again, I let Alexei carry me to bed and tuck me in, setting down the water on the bedside table and pressing a soft kiss to my clammy forehead.
He offers to stay, but I know he has work to do back in the city. He’s having more and more meetings lately, and I know that this situation with Mario Gilanto is weighing on his shoulders. He looks tired, but he never once complains.
“I’ll be back tonight. Sleep well, zhizn’ moya.”
He keeps using these Russian terms.
