Page 73 of Vasily the Nail

“I stand by that. And your brother’s a total fuckhead for not going with you.”

“That sounds more right.”

Vasily resumes his task. “Is that your answer, then? Tahoe?”

“No. If I’m being honest with myself, if I need to pull my weight, it’s going to be as a barista if I’m lucky. We couldn’t afford Tahoe. And hell, I’m not that pretentious. Not anymore.”

Something in my answer inspires Vasily to lean around me so he can peck at the corner of my lip. “So, not Phoenix and not Tahoe.”

“No, but something more like Tahoe. Somewhere with snow. Mountains to ski on. Denver? Is there skiing in Denver?”

“I think it’s flat. But it’s Colorado. I’m betting there’s some little town between Denver and skiing. Or do you want the big city? Would you want to find a city that has skiing nearby? Or, if you want to be a barista, would you prefer to live at a ski resort? I bet there are ones not as pretentious as Tahoe. Skiers love coffee.”

We’ve been in the tub for a while by this point, the water’s beginning to cool. I think Vasily’s done, so I spin on his lap so both legs are over the edge and I can curl up on his chest. I place my hand there too, feeling his heartbeat under it.

Comfortable can be a tub that isn’t really meant for two but gets the job done.

“A small town between Denver and the mountains sounds lovely.”

Vasily grabs a cup from the shelf and dunks it in the water. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Before I have a chance to consider what he means by that, he dumps the entire cup on my head. “Oh my God, what are you doing?” I squeal as I scramble away from him, but the damage is already done. My hair is drenched.

The way he sits up makes me think I’ve actually helped him. With another dunk of the cup, he says, “I’m going to wash your hair.”

“There’s no space!”

The mean jerk that he is, Vasily puts his free hand up at my hairline while he pours the next cup so it doesn’t get in my face. “I’ll pull the showerhead down to rinse it. Spread your legs to wash that pussy down, too. Get it good and wet. And then I’m going to mark you.”

“You’re going towhat?”

“Mark you,” he says every bit as reasonably as he said he’d use the showerhead. “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“Vasya, I’m not—”

He takes hold of my chin to bring my eyes to his. Clear blue. Coffee and a cigarette, that’s it so far today. Could mean nothing. I should treat it as nothing. But I push into his hand to lay a kiss on his cheek instead.

The stern look — not upset, just intense — of a moment ago melts off his face at that kiss. “Are you trying to distract me,zvyozdochka?”

“No, but that would have been clever, right?”

“Very. You’re mine, aren’t you? And I mark what’s mine.”

Here I was thinking that the hypothetical was the test, but I should have known better. Vasily doesn’t test. He just comes out and says it.

I drop my eyes, needing to think about it and unafraid that I might irritate Vasily. These few days together, they haven’t been perfect, but they’ve been the life I think I’m supposed to have. It could simply be the fact that it’s been a bizarre sort of vacation, but I feel more like myself than I ever have before.

I trace my fingers over the brand in a V shape on Vasily’s chest. “Would it be a brand? I don’t . . . I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Of course not. I would never put something so ugly on you. It will be small. Simple.”

“Okay.”

“Absolutely not!” I protest an hour later when Dima drops off a tattoo gun but not a tattooartist. “I’ve seen amateur tattoos before. I don’t want that on my body.”

“You’re fine. I’ve done tattoos before. I told you it’d be small. Did you really bake this bread? This is the best bread I’ve ever had. Amazing. I’ve never even thought about bread.”

I want to be mad at him for continuing to eat breakfast as I argue with him about how it doesn’t matter how I feel about him, I do not want him to tattoo with me. But that’s the third loaf of bread I made this week, and the first two I discreetly tossed into the trash because I didn’t like how they came out. This one looked perfect, but hearing him say it gets me all gooey.

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