I also told her everything Del had said, and how I had ignored her advice and actually hadn’t talked to Victor at all.

“I love Del, but take her words with a grain of salt.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s careful, and a bit of an overthinker.” Tabitha walked to the bathroom with her phone and propped it up at eye level, before squeezing some lotion into her hands and rubbing it into her face. “I’ve googled your boy, Victor, when Del moved in with you guys. He was a pro athlete before he started working for you, right?”

“Yes.” No need to mention to her that he’d only been fighting in the UFC for his uncle.

“In my experience, pro athletes have no trouble getting their dicks wet. He’s probably kissed more girls than he even remembers. If I had to guess, he’s not actually bothered by the kiss.” She started patting some other oil or serum into her skin, but looked at her camera - and at me - as she continued. “If you drunkenly kissed me, I genuinely wouldn’t care the next morning. People kiss all the time. I think I kissed like three guys this weekend alone.”

“So you don’t think he has a girlfriend?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I think the more important question is whether you want to be his girlfriend.”

“I…” My voice died in my throat as I tried to come up with a reply.

I didn’t want to be his girlfriend, and I didn’t want him to be my boyfriend. Those terms felt way too silly. They sounded like movie dates and cooking classes and relationship milestones.

I may not have gone on a single date in my entire life, but the idea of going on one with Victor seemed ridiculous. So he’d cook dinner, just like always, but now it was supposed to be romantic? What? Light a candle to set the mood?

It wasn’t like he could take me out to a nice restaurant, or on a sunset walk.

Regardless of my ability to leave the house, even those dates sounded like they were meant for others. We basically already shared a life.

When it came to Victor, I didn’t want evenings that ended in a kiss. I didn’t want to make a fuss over a three-month-anniversary. I didn’t want to beInstagram official.

I just wanted him. All of him. All the moments I hadn’t gotten yet. I wanted to wake up in the morning and see him next to me instead of having to walk downstairs. Hold his hand instead of his gaze. Run my fingers through his hair when he was being overprotective. Kiss him.

Gosh darn it, I wanted to kiss him.

“Cordelia? Still there?” Tabitha’s voice snapped me from my thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry.” I shook my head to clear it. “Just thinking about your question.”

“Do you want todateVictor?”

“No,” I said, “I want more than that. I want everything.”

“Here,”Luka threw a zipped nylon bag in my lap as we passed the gate.

Instead of checking the contents, I glanced out the window as we got behind the walls and rolled up the curved driveway. Petya’s estate looked exactly like it had six years ago. Just another bland mansion on a street of colorless mansions. Theothers might have had a tennis or basketball court in the back, but Petya’s estate had both. The others had garages for four cars, Petya had one for six. And of course, his pool was the biggest on the block.

If you looked up the definition of the whole golden cage thing, this place would show up in the search results. All the luxuries you could want, the staff to wipe up your mess, and the lavish parties you’d see on TV. Just no way out. I’d grown up here with my cousins. My parents had lived here until the day they tried to make a run for it.

Luka and I used to talk about leaving.

“Home sweet home,” I muttered.

“Sorry to break it to you, but Irina has raided your closet after she burned her dresses and declared she wasn’t playing dress-up anymore.”

“Irina?”

“She’s around here somewhere.”

“Not in college?” Luka’s youngest sister had been a pimply teenager when I’d left, but last I’d been aware of, she was meant to study abroad.

“No. Quit stalling,” he nodded at the bag.