Page 57 of Breaking Away

“Don’t worry,” I promise hoarsely. “I’m going to fix this, Princess.”

I have to or it will kill me.Hypothetically.

22

KAVI

He doesn’t wait a beat.His thigh withdraws, my dress is carefully pulled down in place, and I’m steadied on my feet. Meeting my eyes briefly, he grimaces before turning and leaving. Down the hallway and around the corner.

I’m alone, but it’s not quiet. I overhear raucous voices clash, then settle. There’s the indecipherable timbre of Dmitri ordering people around. Then silence.

My body wilts against the wall. I feel like I’ve lost the sauce. The whole damn sauce, considering I almost got caught dry (wet?) humping a clothed, very muscular thigh, marking it up with my… enthusiasm as if my pussy is this fun stamp I like to pull out and apply.

Lokhov comes back. His eyes flick to my hands, which bunch in front of my stomach. His expression tightens, cheekbones standing out. Mouth flattens.

I don’t know what I’m doing, but can you hold me again?

It’s what I want to say, but don’t. Can’t. Because I don’t need anyone ever again, remember?

Dmitri slowly approaches. “I’m sorry, Kavi. I took it too far.”

My chest heaves. Right. An apology I did not expect, though, I should have. He regrets what happened. Of course, it went too far.

Not that he started it. “I asked for the favor. I guess I should also say sorry.”

Fiery warmth shoots across my cheeks when I see the wet patch on his pants. It’s the raunchiest thing I’ve ever done.

“Do you regret it?”

The question bursts out of me, like I can’t help myself. In truth, I wish I could sink into the floor.

Lokhov’s hand scrubs his face. “I should have been thinking. But I wasn’t.”

My heart is paper. A rip starts, hearing his avoidance of the question.

Why did that hurt?

“There’s a lot of non-thinking going around,” I say, trying for casualness and failing. My voice is too shrill for that. “Don’t worry. Neither of us has been acting smart.”

Did I really ask him to touch me as a favor? For this night to count?

My stomach somersaults. I can’t believe myself.

What am I really trying to do? Tyler cheated, most likely. I’m running from his apologies, using Lokhov as an escape, as if his arms are safe enough to bury me in.

I shouldknowbetter.

“Tell me what to do.” Lokhov is breathing hard through his nose.

I step away from my wall. “Should we be friends or something?”

He balks. A reasonable reaction, considering I’ve no idea what I’m saying.

Friendship?Frantically slapping a label on the tangled mess between us is not the right answer.

“Kavi—”

“Don’t,” I interrupt, feeling so embarrassed I could be sick. “Forget that. I’m going to leave. Bye.”

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