Page 166 of Toxic Temptation
“He came to the hospital when I was in trouble,” I whisper. “He got shot protecting me, and when I saw his blood…” I close my eyes. “I’ve never been that scared in my life. Not even when Dad got sick.”
Mom stands and wraps her arms around me, and for the first time in months, I let myself cry. Really cry. For Dad, for the time I’ve wasted, for the love I’m too terrified to claim.
“Oh, honey,” she murmurs into my hair. “Love isn’t a guarantee. It’s a choice. Every morning, you choose to love someone despite knowing you might lose them. And that choice? That’s the bravest thing any of us can do.”
Waylen’s key turns in the lock, and I pull away, wiping my eyes.
“Did you get the ice cream?” Mom calls, her voice bright and normal, as if she hadn’t just turned my entire world upside down.
“Chocolate espresso,” he announces, appearing in the doorway with a grocery bag. “Just like someone ordered.” He looks between us, taking in my red eyes and Mom’s gentle expression. “Everything okay?”
I nod, not trusting my voice yet.
Mom pets my shoulder. “Everything’s perfect.”
But as I watch her move around the kitchen, preparing dessert like this is a normal family dinner, I realize she’s wrong. Everythingisn’tperfect.
But maybe, just maybe, itcouldbe.
58
KOVAN
I am Kovan fucking Krayev.
I don’t wait for shit to happen. I don’t give other people the power to affect my mood. And I most definitely donotsit around, staring at my phone all day, waiting for a text from a woman.
Except that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for the past hour.
The message I sent three hours ago burns into my retinas every time I look at the screen:Are you coming home tonight or are you still avoiding me?
Three blue checkmarks. No response.
She left me on fuckingread.
“You look like shit,” Osip announces, walking into the gym with Pavel trailing behind him.
Luka bounces through the door after them, his face lit up with pure joy. “Uncle Kovan! Watch what Waylen taught me!”
He launches himself into what can only generously be called a roundhouse kick. It’s more flailing limb than martial arts, but his enthusiasm is infectious.
“That was incredible,” I lie, forcing enthusiasm into my voice.
“Waylen says I have to pretend I’m weightless. Like I’m floating on air.” Luka demonstrates again, this time managing to stay upright when he lands.
“Does Waylen also believe in fairy dust?”
Pavel clears his throat pointedly. I catch myself and tone down my sarcasm.
“Show me one more time,malysh.”
While Luka practices his kicks with Osip cheering him on, Pavel sidles up to me. “So. Wanna talk about why you’ve been a complete asshole all week?”
“I haven’t.”
“Right.” Pavel’s eyebrow arches in that annoyingly superior way I’ve always loathed. “And I’m the fucking Pope.”
“Drop it, Pavel.”
