Page 22 of Anton

I groan. “Blair⁠—”

“No. Don’t Blair me,” she cuts in. “I thought we’d already established you should be staying far away from that man.”

“I didn’t exactly go looking for him.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “He was just there.”

I also can’t stop thinking about him, but you don’t need to know that.

“Oh, and he just magically decided to cop a feel?”

“It wasn’t even like that. He was there, he bought me coffee, I asked about his dog, we talked. That’s it. I’m not marrying the guy.”

“Not yet.”

A chuckle slips out. “I love you, but you’re such a drama queen sometimes.”

“You call it drama. I call it being overly cautious. But when that man gets you killed, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Well, I’d be dead, so…” I shrug. “Kind of can’t say anything at that point.”

“That’s not funny.”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

Her tone is teasing, but she goes a little tense. I know better than to joke about dying around her. She rarely talks about her brother, but Jace told me he was killed because of a bad decision their father made, so I understand why she worries about me.

“I’m fine,” I assure her. “Trust me. My family would never let anything happen to me.”

A long pause stretches between us. “Sometimes it’s not up to them. You have to take care of yourself too.”

“I promise, nothing is going on. If anything, he’s just…a friend.”

“Now you’re friends?” she scoffs. “Oh, great. Maybe we can all do brunch.”

“That’s actually not a bad idea.”

“I was kidding.” She laughs.

“I’m just saying…” I let my head fall back against the sofa. “I think you’d like him.”

“Doubt it,” she mutters. “Anyway, I’ve gotta go. We’re still on for this weekend, right?”

“Yep. Absolutely.”

“Okay. Behave yourself.”

“I’ll do my best.”

I let the phone fall onto the couch the second she hangs up.

Nadia is officially dead to me.

Blair isn’t wrong. If she’s already heard about Anton, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of my family does too. I need to stay away from him. Even if we’re only friends, they’ll put an end to it before it has the chance to become anything more, and I’m only setting myself up for disappointment.

I release a weary breath, pick up my phone, and search his name. The instant his photo appears, whatever determination I had slips away.

Fuck. Maybe going out this weekend will be good for me. I could meet someone else and stop obsessing over the dangerous Russian with smoldering eyes and a pair of dimples that have no business being so sexy.

Maybe a distraction is exactly what I need.