Page 52 of Wicked Serve

“Yeah,” I finally say, even though I want to scream. “I usually go by Izzy, though.”

“Izzy,” he repeats. “I’m Nikolai.”

My nickname sounds wrong in his mouth.

He’s wearing a neutral expression, but I see the emotion in his eyes. It’s something, but it’s definitely not enough after days of missing him. I pushed too hard, asked too many questions about too sore a topic, but that doesn’t mean I want whatever we are to fall apart. I’ll take good friends over my brother’s stranger of a teammate any day.

Even if he’s in my living room, getting to know my brother like he didn’t know me first. Like I’m not the one who deserves to know him better. I almost throw my lanyard, but ball it in my fist instead.

His messenger bag is behind the couch, slumped next to Cooper’s backpack. His own lanyard hangs out of a side pocket. I wait until they’re both looking at the television again before leaning down and carefully swiping it.

“Cool,” I say with as much casualness as I can muster. “Well, have fun. I’m going out.”

“What?” Cooper says. “You just got home.”

“I’m going out,” I repeat, heading for the stairs. I take them two at a time, yanking my door open and shutting it loudly enough, I know they can hear.

When Nik walked me home the other night, he kissed me on the street corner. That’s as far as we went, because I didn’t want to risk anyone walking outside at the exact moment he left me on the front porch. I was especially glad to have the privacy when he backed me against a tree and framed my face with his hands, staring at me with wide, unreadable eyes before he leaned in and finally, finally kissed me.

Did he feel as desperate as I did? Did something spark in his heart when we touched? I could have imagined it; his eyes were nearly silver in the moonlight. But I didn’t imagine the way his body felt pressed against mine, or the sugary taste of his lips, or the way he whispered my name—my full name, as always—before leaving me to walk the last half block on my own, still wearing his jacket.

I wish he could have walked me to the door.

No. I wish he wanted to walk me to the door.

I stride to my closet and pull it open.

My most delicate lingerie. A dress that hugs my curves in all the right places. Fresh makeup, a comb through my hair, and diamond teardrops to match my necklace and tennis bracelet.

I make sure he gets a good look at me as I walk downstairs.

“You have a date or something?” Cooper asks. “You’ve been going out a lot lately.”

“Something like that,” I say as I pull my jacket out of the hall closet. “Don’t wait up.”

He frowns. “Call me or Sebastian if you need someone.”

The look Nik is giving me could burn this house down.

I wave on my way out the door, and watch him fight a snarl.

This is a gamble—but I feel good about my odds.

Chapter 25

Nikolai

Isabelle Callahan is going to be the death of me.

Looking at her in my bed, I realize I’m pretty fucking okay with that.

She’s on her stomach, calves crossed in the air, her hair tossed carelessly over one shoulder. When I click the door shut—she left it unlocked so I’d find her exactly like this, I’m sure—she flicks her gaze to mine before turning her attention back to her book.

I can’t believe she stole my keys from right under my nose.

I lean against the doorway. “You swiped my keys.”

She turns a page in her book.

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