Page 114 of Deceitful Vows

If she topples, we all topple.

After the numerous mistakes I’ve made over the past six weeks, that’s the last thing I need.

“What floor?” asks a woman hogging the elevator panel as if it is made of real gold.

“Shit,” Nikita mumbles as she digs into her pocket. “I didn’t check the room number the clerk wrote down.”

“The ninetieth floor,” announces an accented voice from the back of the pack. It is a mix of accents like my mother’s, but since it is extremely mannish, my panic remains stagnant.

Nikita can’t say the same. When the dark-haired gent I spotted earlier watching Nikita from the Mezzanine floor leans over her to select our floor, goose bumps break across her skin, and the hairs on her nape stand to attention.

I won’t tell you what the front of her body does, or you’ll no longer believe me when I tell you I have no interest in women.

I wondered earlier if he was the man who had her exiting our flight smelling like a hot hunk of man. Now I am certain.

Tension crackles between the suit-clad stranger and Nikita over the next thirty seconds. It is excruciating and proves that lust is the most potent emotion we own. No amount of muscle can stop two atoms destined to collide. Their collision could create a big bang of energy or fizzle before forcing the shards to move in opposite directions. The impact is inevitable. It is the outcome that scares people the most.

Curious to discover if the stranger is the cause of Nikita’s silence, I lean into her side and whisper, “He wants to fuck you.” My wording could be better. I just don’t have time to pussyfoot around. Our elevator is nearing our floor. I have only mere seconds to play with.

“He did.” I assume her tiredness has her muddling up her reply, but she proves otherwise when she adds, “But he doesn’t seem interested anymore.”

“Because…?” I sound lost. Rightfully so. I am. Nikita is a beautiful, brilliant woman. Any man would be proud to call her his. Unless…

I stop seeking a wedding ring on the stranger’s left hand when Nikita sighs heavily. “Because…” Even after an eternity of deliberation, she delivers the worst excuse I’ve ever heard. “He’s a patient’s son?”

“And that matters how?”

“Because he… I…”

My head rockets to the side so fast my neck muscles scream in disgust when a voice I’ll never forget sounds through my ears. It is more mature than the last time I heard it, though still extremely girlie.

“Zoya?” Worry burns my esophagus when Aleena stares at me in bewilderment. Her mouth is gaping like a fish out of water, and I can only hope the wetness in her eyes is from happiness. “You came?”

I nod, a better response above me.

After what feels like a lifetime, Aleena repeats, “You came!” Her voice is so loud it echoes throughout the elevator she dives into so she can wrap me up in a heart-thawing hug.

I’m not a crier. It takes a lot to make me get teary-eyed, but I’d be a liar if I said my eyes weren’t welling with wetness.

She seems happy that I’m here.

Relieved, even.

“I can’t believe you came. I didn’t think you would. With how late it is, I was certain you weren’t coming.” She inches back sooner than I’d like. Fortunately for me, it is only to extend an invitation. “We’re about to go out dancing. Do you want to come dancing with us?”

“Ah…Now?You want to go dancing now?”

Aleena isn’t the only one shocked by my motherly tone. She merely hides it better than Nikita. “You don’t want to go out? From the stories Mother shared, that is supposedly what you do every weekend.”

The sheer innocence in her eyes makes her words not sting as badly as the impact my body prepares for.

“Not every weekend… Just everysecondweekend,” I josh.

My joke sails straight over Aleena’s head. “Oh.” I wonder if she’s more like me than her outer shell portrays when she murmurs, “I must have gotten the dates mixed up.”

Her bloodshot eyes follow mine to my wrist when I check the time on my invisible watch. I don’t want to rain on her parade, but I would barely survive the creeps who come out this late at night, so I refuse to send my baby sister to the wolves unprepared.

“It is too late to go dancing now.” When disappointment is the first emotion she showcases, I talk faster. “But I heard rumors DJ Rourke was playing close by this weekend, so I was hopeful we could skip the blisters tonight to ensure we have plenty of gas left in the tank for his show on Saturday.”

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