Page 9 of Hating the Bratva

I could see myself here after working all day at the hospital, enjoying a night in the hot tub with a glass of wine. I can picture Alek shirtless next to me in the water. I shake my head, trying to clear that image from my mind.

“It will be beautiful,” I settle on saying. He stares at me as if knowing what I'm thinking.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“You're lying.”

I turn to look out at the lawn. The wind blows gently, making the blades of grass move with it.

“You bought this house for us, didn't you?” I ask.

He has to know as much as I do that the clock is counting down. I hear him take a deep breath, and I turn again to face him. He shoves his hands into his jean pockets, and it gives him almost a boyish look.

“Nothing has been decided—”

“But that's what you had in mind, right?”

He comes so close to me that he can probably hear my heart rate pick up. He removes one hand from his pocket and grips my chin between two fingers. He tilts my head up, so I'm looking at his face. His sharp jawline seems more prominent from this angle, and I can see his five-o'clock shadow coming in.

“I don't know what will happen in the future. But if, somehow, we do end up in this house, I want you to have a say.”

That's the closest thing to an answer I'm going to get from him. He searches my eyes as if looking for something, and then I do something idiotic. I lift onto my tiptoes and kiss him. He doesn't kiss me back at first, probably because I've caught him off guard. He quickly recovers and grabs me around the waist. I let out a surprised breath as he pulls my petite body flush against his sculpted one. He takes control of the kiss, and I let him guide me. I melt into his arms, loving the way his body feels against mine. He pulls away too fast, leaving me breathless and dizzy.

“Fuck, I shouldn't have done that.”

I shrug as if unfazed by the best kiss I've ever had. “Technically, I did it.”

“I don't think your father would see it that way.”

“You're above him in rank anyway. Plus, he doesn't have to know.”

His lips twitch. “You're trouble.”

I manage to keep my lips to myself the rest of the tour. Alek lets me pick out the hardwood floors, paint, and some other decor options before he drives me home. I’m surprised to see Dad's car in the driveway. Alek and Dad go into his office to talk. I don't bother eavesdropping because I am too busy texting Robin about what happened and getting homework done. I hear the front door shut a couple of hours later, and I go to the window to watch Alek drive away.

*****

Raised voices wake me from my sleep. They're coming from downstairs, and it takes me a minute to recognize them as my parents. They're trying to keep quiet, but I can still pick up bits and pieces. My parents never argue anymore. The sun streams through my sheer white curtains. I roll over and check my phone on the bedside table. Ten a.m, Saturday. I drop my phone and rub a hand over my face. I have plans with Robin tonight to go to a party close to campus, but other than that, I plan to spend the day relaxing. Nursing school takes up a massive chunk of my time, and Saturday is my only free day. I spend Sundays catching up on homework, and I have clinicals twice a week. As I move through the program, the clinicals will be more frequent. I leisurely climb out of bed and make my way downstairs. The sound of my parent's whisper-yells increases, but I don't pay them much attention as I walk into the kitchen. Stella, our housekeeper, wipes down the counter.

“Hey, Stella.” I yawn.

She turns around and gives me a tight-lipped smile. Her straight jet-black hair is pulled up into a tight bun at the top of her head. She is still wearing her signature red apron around her small waist, which means she just finished cooking breakfast not long ago.

“Good morning. Breakfast is over, but I can whip you up something,” Stella suggests. I wave her off. Stella has taken care of our home since I was practically a baby. I think of her more like family than my parents' employee.

“I'm okay. Can you just toss me a Pop-Tart?”

She scowls at me but turns around and opens the cabinet behind her anyway. I catch the blueberry Pop-Tart she tosses to me and immediately start to unwrap it.

“You know, one day, all that junk food is going to catch up with you.”

“And when it does, I'll still be fabulous.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back around to finish wiping down the counter. I finish one Pop-Tart and pick up my second one when my mom comes around the corner. An irritated expression graces her Botoxed face.

“Delaney. Your father and I would like to speak with you.”

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