Page 22 of Crave

I can feel my eyes narrow watching him fidget with one of the stems.

“Well, I know today was a long day. You learned a lot of new things about your family. How does that make you feel?” He squints, raising one cheek to look at me sideways.

“How I feel? Since when do you ask that?” My arms cross over my chest.

Alexei isn’t an emotions guy. He runs off of sugar and intrusive thoughts.

I’m not sure if he knows what caring really is.

He shrugs, pushing the bouquet into my hands. “Yep. Was it the worst day ever, or could have been worse?”

His lips purse and he leans forward, scrutinizing my face.

How do I explain to him I feel broken? Hollow? Betrayed?

That I want to run away to the cabin so I can cry for days where no one will bother me?

It’s the only place that even Alexei gives me space.

I wish he knew how to fill in those gaps when I need emotional support, not just companionship. He’s already my best friend.

But that’s all he’ll ever be.

His eyebrows bunch and he leans back. “I’ll wait until you get back. Will you be here for my birthday? I’m having a party.”

“That’s next week. Of course I’ll be back. But why a get together? You usually don’t make a big deal about it.” It’s my turn to peer at him.

What is he hiding?

“You’re having a hard day and thought that a celebration with some cake and ice cream might help.” He shrugs, then pulls out a package of chocolate covered strawberries. “I got you these for today.”

The berry part is okay, they’re low in calories. But I try not to cringe about the chocolate.

Or the idea of having to stare at all of the sweets I know he’ll have.

He lives on sugar.

“Thank you.” I put them into the fridge and go back to my bag. “I do wish you’d just tell me, then I’ll have some time to think about it.” Or cry about it.

Either way, I can process.

Alexei squeezes one eye shut and watches me heading towards the door. “I dunno. What if it was that I’m going jumping again with Mikhail?” He bounces on his toes as he follows me. “Or, maybe we’re going to pull a job on the Reapers?”

That makes me cringe. They’ve been a rival faction in Vegas for years.

It’s been a bloody and brutal battle against them.

I’ve come close to losing him and Nikolai so many times.

“Why?” I pause on the porch, waiting for his answer.

“Well, because they work with Kirill. And we need to find him so we know what Ivan knows.” He pulls a piece of hard candy out of his pocket and twirls it open between his fingers.

The porch light highlights his tattoos that run up his neck and over each ear, then sparkle off of his silver tooth when he grins.

“Ugh.” I shiver. “I don’t want to know that part. Please just be safe.” It’s hard some days knowing we all are involved in constant threat of danger. That at any moment a brutal attack could swoop down over us.

I want to pretend it doesn’t happen.

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