Page 116 of Wicked Serve

“It’s just nice to see you happy,” he says.

“Christ,” Cooper says, pushing the Dutch oven, now smoking, to the back of the stove. “Okay, this is a disaster. Let’s get takeout.”

“You’re staying over later, right?” I ask Nik as Cooper and Penny haggle over the takeout menu. “Although fair warning, I have more work to do.”

“If you’ll have me,” he says.

“Stay. I like waking up next to you.” I turn in his embrace, kissing his cheek as I remember the voice mails we woke up to this morning. “Did your dad call again? Did you talk to him?”

He shakes his head. “The captain of the team tried earlier, but we didn’t talk. He’s a big name over there.”

“He can’t come here, Nik.” My insides twist into knots at the thought of his father stepping foot on our campus. If I were him, I’d have changed my phone number long ago. He remains frustratingly unable to move on, even with the evidence of why he should on his face. I hate to push him, but I’m terrified of what will happen if we come face-to-face with Andrei Volkov.

He sighs heavily. “I know, Isabelle.”

Chapter 55

Izzy

A noise startles me out of my concentration.

I pause my music, looking at the bed. Nik went to sleep hours ago, but I’ve been awake, working at my desk. I told Katherine that I’d handle the permit applications for the wedding, since I haven’t done it by myself before, and I need to submit them soon so they can be processed in time. Aside from the halo of light around my desk, it’s dark in the room. Pinkie the stuffed bunny stands guard next to my laptop, and a bunch of others are strewn across my side of the bed.

As my eyes adjust to the dark, I hear it again. That whimper.

“Nik,” I whisper, sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s breathing shallowly. I put my hand on his shoulder, stomach fluttering.

He flinches away from my touch. “Don’t.”

“I’m here.” I reach out again. “I’m right here.”

“Don’t,” he repeats, voice hoarse. Scared, almost. “Don’t—Isabelle—”

I turn on the bedside lamp. He’s still asleep, his body shaking. He seemed fine earlier, but this has to be a nightmare. Can you even have a panic attack while you’re sleeping?

“Nikolai,” I say firmly, shaking his shoulder.

“Please,” he says, but still, he doesn’t open his eyes. A slice of moonlight cuts over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

His voice rises by the end, shattering the quiet. I scramble on top of him and shake his shoulders. “Nikolai. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, his breath catching on something close to a sob. “Don’t hurt her.”

I bite my lip hard enough I wince. Maybe he’s dreaming about that night on New Year’s Eve. Maybe it’s something else, something that never happened but that his mind is trying to twist into reality. I need to find a way to break through to him.

Something comes to mind, but I hesitate. I haven’t said it aloud before, so I don’t know how he’ll react. Odds are, he never used the name.

He twists underneath me, chest heaving. The sight of the pain on his face, even asleep, slices through me like a knife.

“Kolya,” I say finally. “Kolya, wake up.”

His eyes fly open. I sigh with relief, brushing the hair away from his forehead. Like the other times I’ve seen him panic, his pupils are blown wide, but this time... he’s crying. My heart sinks straight to my stomach. I touch his cheek.

“There you are,” I whisper. “You scared me.”

He sits up, working his mouth a few times. I slip out of his lap. He didn’t wear a shirt to bed, so I can see the sheen of sweat on his chest.

“How did you know that name?” he asks, voice cracking.

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