Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 31818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“You looked through my stuff?” I hold the laptop to my chest.
“There are a lot of good universities around here.” Nikolai has a way of never answering my questions.
“I don’t know where I’ll get in, so the point is moot.” I put my laptop on the charger next to my bookbag so that I'll remember to grab it in the morning.
“Come here.” I should tell him no. Ask why he can just do dirty things to my body and then disappear, then pop back up. Not only in my room but in my bed. My room, which is bigger than some people's apartments, feels small with him in it.
Instead of saying no, I go to him. I'm frustrated with myself for doing it, yet it doesn't deter me. I’m drawn to him. My curiosity also gets the best of me. I have been wondering how things would be between him and me after Friday.
“Sit.” He doesn’t wait for me to do it. He grabs my hips, pulling me down next to him.
“You’re bossy,” I mutter.
“So you’ve told me.” His mouth edges upwards. It is not enough to show me that dimple again. I like seeing it. For a split second, Nikolai actually appears to be his age. “Your knees.” I tense up.
“I told you. I fell.” He’s like a damn dog with a bone about my injury.
“There’s more.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I stand. Nikolai's hand locks around my wrist before I can try to move farther away from him.
“I’ll find out one way or another.” His thumb drifts back and forth on my skin before he releases his hold on me and stands. “Sleep tight.”
Nikolai drops a kiss on top of my head before walking back out of my bedroom. I fall back onto the bed. That man is so confusing. It’s messing with my head. It doesn't help that every time I crawl under the covers to sleep, I dream about his mouth being on me again. Unfortunately, my stupid alarm goes off right when it gets to the good part.
I drag myself out of bed and get ready for school. I don’t love the uniform, but it is nice not having to worry about what I’ll wear each day. Knowing my school, it would be a full-on fashion show with those girls. Even in the uniform, they all still have a way of adding to it.
My plan to keep my head down and just attend school seems to have backfired on me. But I’m not going to let a few catty girls stop me from experiencing life. Their antics are child's play compared to what Mona and I went through with our own father and brother. Still, it doesn’t soothe the burn of feeling like you never fit in.
Once I accept that I'm not getting my hair under control, I grab my bag and head for the kitchen.
“Mona, can you braid my—” I trail off when I see Nikolai standing in the kitchen. His hair is wet, making me think he just got out of the shower.
“Your hair?”
“I thought Mona was here.” Did they go back to the estate?
“Think they’re still in bed.” Nikolai rounds the kitchen island, coming toward me. His hands go to my hips.
“You’re always manhandling me,” I say as he turns me around.
“I thought you’d rather me do it than order you to turn around.” I roll my eyes, not that Nikolai can see it.
“What are you doing?” He grabs my hair. I stand there, a bit shocked as he braids it.
“Tie?” I remove it from my wrist and hand it to him.
“You know how to braid hair?”
"When I was a boy, I used to braid my mother’s." I stay quiet for a moment as he finishes up. This is the most he’s ever told me about himself. I want to ask him questions, but I stop myself. I don’t want him to clam up on me.
“That's sweet.” I try to picture a young Nikolai. It’s hard to think of him as a vulnerable little kid.
“It would be the only sweet thing about my childhood.” I turn slowly to face him. He never talks about his time before Matteo took him in. I’ve always wondered about it. I knew it wasn’t good. But hearing his words causes an ache in my chest.
“I’m sorry.” My fingers itch to touch him.
“No reason to be sorry.” I place my hand on his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice grows thick with emotion.
“Okay.”
“Unless you want to tell me about your knees, then maybe we could strike a deal.”
“Seriously?” I can’t help but laugh. This man will use any tactic to get me to spill about what really happened.
“Are you ready?” Sal asks, stepping into the kitchen. I expect Nikolai to say he’ll be taking me, but he doesn’t. Why am I oddly disappointed?