Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I shouldn’t care that he’s leaving, yet an ache blooms in my chest anyway.
Sergei catches me watching him and smirks, running a hand through his tousled hair. “That good, eh?”
I snort, reaching for the sheet and pulling it up over my chest. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I quip. “I’ve had better.”
His grin deepens, those ice-blue eyes flickering with amusement. He smirks. “If you say so.” His eyes sparkle; he knows he just shifted my entire world.
I shake my head but don’t argue; we both know he’s right. It was that good. Singular, unrepeatable. But I’m not about to stroke his ego. Not when it’s already massive.
Sergei finishes buttoning his shirt before reaching for his watch on the nightstand. I hadn’t even seen him take it off, so lost in my own desire. He fastens it with practiced ease, every movement effortless and controlled.
Watching him slip back into his real life—whatever that might be—hollows me out. The bed already feels cold, and he hasn’t even fully left it yet.
He turns to me, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. “Well, malyshka, I hope I’ve proved that not all men are spineless idiots,” he jokes, recalling our earlier text exchange from last night.
I force a smile, though I feel the tell-tale signs of sadness forming in the pit of my stomach. “You definitely proved what a strong spine you have.” I wink at him.
His lips twitch, and for a second I think he’ll say something else. But instead, he steps closer, leaning down until his mouth brushes against mine. It’s soft, fleeting, barely even a kiss.
It’s goodbye.
Then he’s gone. The door clicks shut behind him, and just like that, the heat, the presence, the intensity of him all evaporate, like the air has been sucked out of the room. In its place I’m left alone only with my thoughts.
I stare up at the ceiling, my heart still pounding even though the reason for it is gone. I don’t know how long I lie there, tangled in the sheets, Sergei’s scent still lingering on my skin.
What the hell just happened?
I don’t do this. I don’t bring strangers home. I don’t let myself get carried away by impulse. I don’t lose my head over a guy I met less than twenty-four hours ago.
I didn’t even sleep with my last boyfriend until we’d been dating for a few months. And even if my date hadn’t stood me up last night, there was no way I was going to sleep with him on the first date. So what was it about Sergei that made me so desperate to throw all caution to the wind?
I groan, throwing an arm over my face. None of this even matters. I’ll never see him again, and I’m okay with that.
I turn over and scream into my pillow.
4
NICOLE
Two days pass, and I manage to keep the entire encounter to myself. I bury myself in work and keep my head down. Unfortunately, the secret has to come out today.
Because there’s no way my best friend Mia will let me escape our weekly lunch without spilling everything. I spot her the moment I step into the café. She’s tucked into a corner booth with two iced coffees—one already half-gone, the other clearly for me.
She’s scrolling on her phone, blonde hair piled in a messy bun, and her oversized sweater sliding off one shoulder like she just rolled out of bed and still looks effortlessly cute. I roll my eyes; I know it’s a carefully curated look she agonizes over every time she leaves the house.
I take a deep breath and brace myself. Mia looks up and immediately grins when she spots me.
“Oh-ho, there she is!” she shouts across the crowded café. “The international woman of mystery.”
I slide into the seat across from her and grab my coffee, pretending I don’t know what she’s talking about.
“I’m the least mysterious person you know,” I shoot back. For the record, that is usually true.
“Oh, please,” she gasps, clutching her chest dramatically. “You’ve been ghosting me for two days since your date. Which can only mean one of two things: it was so awful you had to disconnect from the world and bury yourself in a pint of mint chocolate chip, or”—she leans in, eyes glinting—“you got laid.”
I choke on my coffee.
She beams knowingly. “Oh my God, I knew it!” she squeals. “Tell me everything.”
I sigh, setting my cup down. “Actually, it was the mint chocolate chip thing. Totally.”
“Don’t think I don’t see that freshly fucked glow.” She gestures at my face, far too smug.
“Can we not do this so loudly?” I groan, rubbing my temples.
Mia gasps again and drops to a stage whisper. “Hell no.”
I shiver.
“Okay, okay.” She sighs. “Let’s take it from the top. Fill me in on the date.”
I exhale slowly, grateful I can at least put that embarrassment behind me for good once I tell her.