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SIXTEEN
Kayla
The next morning,I managed to slip out of Elias’s apartment without waking him.
It hadn’t even been that difficult, and I found it funny that he slept so hard.
I supposed it could have been a sign that he was trusting, but I knew better than that.
What I didn’t know for sure was why I’d felt the need to sneak away.
But I was still confused, unsure aboutwhat was happening between us, and I wasn’t ready to ask questions I wasn’t prepared to hear the answer to.
Just as I wasn’t ready for awkward morning-after chatting, though I had a hard time imagining Elias awkward.
In fact, I couldn’t think of a time he’d been that way. But I couldn’t say the same about my own reaction, so running before I found myself in that kind of situation was best.
And that meant keeping things uncomplicated—or as uncomplicated as anything with Elias could ever be.
As confused as the situation was, as I rode down the elevator I felt something like peace.
Things were up in the air.
Eventually, I’d have to talk to Todd.
I knew I’d have to finish paying off that debt.
And whatever was between Elias and I would need resolution.
But for the moment, I was content.
I stopped at the lobby instead of going to the garage, deciding to treat myself to coffee and breakfast, and I knew a place that had an early bird special. So I’d grab a bite before I walked back to my own apartment.
It was still closer to night than true morning, but the streets were busy with workers, so I felt safe enough, and early morning walks always helped to clear my head.
I made it a block before I spotted an SUV I recognized with two others flanking it front and back.
My instinct was to turn, run, but I knew that doing so would be futile.
So I kept walking toward the SUV, my instincts on fire but my options limited.
There was nowhere to run, so I just kept going, hoping it was nothing, but preparing myself as best I could.
When I got to the corner, the SUV’s window started to roll down.
I wasn’t shocked but was definitely afraid when Armen Petrosyan looked out the window at me, his eyes so like Elias’s it was uncanny.
But even at the worst times, Elias had never scared me, never terrified me to my very core the way one look from Armen did.
“Kayla, sirts,” he said, his use of the Armenian endearment worrying me more than a curse would have.
“I didn’t know that we had been formally introduced,” I said when I found my voice.
He just smiled. “We haven’t, and I think it’s time we rectify that.
“I’m sorry?” I said, feigning ignorance.
He smiled. “You’re leaving my son’s apartment, are you not?”
