Page 10 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son
Then he narrows his eyes, and he’s the same Dmitri as always. “Never let laundry pile up, Oskar. Maybe you’ll need to travel.”
“I have some fresh clothes...” I halt. “Why are you talking about travel?”
“Eat first.” Dmitri opens my refrigerator, removes the eggs, then starts breaking them into a bowl. An unusual pink sheen spreads across his chiseled cheekbones.
“Dmitri?” I keep my voice stern.
He grimaces and busies himself with the pan, olive oil shimmering as it heats. “Go shower. I tell you after meal.”
“What happened?”
Dmitri looks nervous and guilty, two expressions I’m unaccustomed to seeing on him.
“Fine.” The eggs hit the hot pan with a sharp sizzle.
Finally, Dmitri takes the eggs and puts them onto a plate. He places it on the counter. “Eat.”
I scowl but Dmitri’s face says no-nonsense, and I do. I mean, the eggs aren’t exactly bad. This isn’t a hardship. Just slightly weird.
“Now can you tell me?” I ask.
He bites his lip. Also weird. Uncertainty isn’t a Dmitri trait. But then Dmitri would say he likes to encompass all the traits.
“Maybe you need more food,” he says. “Do you have oatmeal? Is good for heart.”
“My heart is fine, Dmitri. Just tell me.”
He sighs. He flicks his gaze to me, then looks away. “I bought us plane tickets.”
I blink. “Seriously?”
“Yep.”
My heart stutters. This is definitely weird. Dmitri and I have never ever gone on vacation together. Dmitri has never hinted that’s something he’s wanted to do.
But then he’s leaving the country soon. Maybe he wants to do some sort of sightseeing thing. That’s sort of sweet. He is very patriotic, even though this isn’t technically his country.
“You need to pack. Don’t forget hair products.” He gives a fond smile. “You complain when you don’t have them.”
“That was one time.”
“Won’t be a second time when I’m here to remind you.”
I sigh. “Where are we going?”
He inhales. “Vegas. Flight leaves in three hours.”
I stare, then I understand. “To see the Grand Canyon?”
He blinks. “I’m not dragging you across country to see hole in the ground.”
“It’s a big hole.”
He sighs. “But we can see it, if you would like.” He nods. “Yeah.” He flashes me a wobbly smile, and I see that odd nervous glint in his eyes again.
Okay. This is seriously super strange.
“You’ve been to Vegas before,” I say slowly. “Is that really where you want to go before you leave the States? You don’t gamble.”
