Page 119 of Bratva's Intern

She blinked at me. “Wren. Baby. Sweetheart. My softest little dumpling. You’re dating a man who, from the looks of him, loves to be needed. Your neediness is not going to scare him off.”

“I just… thought we could use a little space. I don’t have a clue where this is going, Jess. Better not to get too attached, right?”

Jess grabbed her purse. “I get it, Wren, but have you ever thought about the fact that you need this? Just go with the flow and have some fun. We can worry about heartbreak later. At least get as much good loving out of the man before it ends.”

“Yeah.”

But I wasn’t like Jess. I’d had casual sex, but it had been easy to separate true feelings from lust. Why was it so difficultwith Maxim?

The man who’d cut the line at the coffee shop wasn’t supposed to be this likable.

“Last chance to put on your lucky suit and come out with me.”

“I have work tomorrow, so I’ll stay in. But have fun at work.”

She’d only been working at the bar for the past couple of nights and was already a big hit there. Not surprising, given Jess’s personality. She could get a nun to dance topless in the streets.

“All right, then. Tell Maxim you miss him before you start dry-humping your pillows,” she called over her shoulder. The door clicked shut behind her.

Silence settled over the apartment like a weighted blanket.

I turned on the TV. Opened Netflix. Scrolled aimlessly. Picked a comfort movie and started it, only to realize five minutes in I had no idea what anyone was saying.

I kept thinking about his hand on my back. The press of his lips on my temple this morning. The way he said he missed me. How upset he’d been at me having lunch with Bradley.

I shifted on the couch. Checked my phone.

No messages.

I opened a text window. TypedI miss you. Deleted it.

TypedYou busy?Deleted that too.

I even typeddo you wanna come over and ruin me?and sat there for a whole minute before hitting Backspace violently like I could erase the shame too.

I threw my phone onto the coffee table and huffed.

Then picked it back up twenty seconds later and finally typed,

Wren:

I wish I hadn’t told you no.

Sent.

I stood up, rubbing my arms. Okay. Popcorn. I needed popcorn. And maybe a drink. And maybe to crawl into a hole of my own emotional confusion and stay there.

I padded toward the kitchen?—

Knock, knock.

I froze.

Our neighbors didn’t bother us, and we didn’t bother them. Except for that one time I’d gotten a package from across the hall by mistake. Slowly I turned toward the front door.

Another knock.

I opened it.

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