Page 114 of Dirty Grovel

We talk over each other, barely answering the other’s questions, still a mess of tangled limbs on the kitchen floor. It’s not until Oleg clears his throat loudly that we remember that we have an audience.

“Sorry,” I mutter, taking the hand Oleg’s offering me before he pulls me to my feet. “Got carried away.”

“Understandable,” he says with a twinkle in his eye.

“Frankly, I quite enjoyed that,” Artem quips. “Who wouldn’t enjoy two cute blondes rolling around on the floor together? Add some bikinis, some baby oil, and?—”

I punch him in the arm until he shuts up, laughing. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Ship’s already sailed on that one.”

Rolling my eyes, I turn to Sydney and take her hand. “Syd, this obnoxious one over here is Artem. It may not seem like it, but he’s actually a pretty decent guy. As hiswifeandkidswill attest.”

I emphasize the last part, because Faye would have his balls in a jar on the mantle if she heard him making jokes about bikini wrestling.

Sydney gives him a shy smile. While she’s shaking his hand, I give her the once-over.

She’s lost a lot of weight. The white t-shirt she’s wearing hangs on her the same way it would on a coat hanger. Her usually blushing cheeks are pale and hollowed in. New gray hairs streak sneakily amongst her blonde side bangs.

“You look exhausted,” I murmur.

“Is that your diplomatic way of telling me I look like shit?” Sydney asks. “Because I know. I look like shit.”

“You do not. You just need a good night’s sleep in a real bed.”

Longing transforms Sydney’s features as she sighs. “Man, that does sound good.”

“Come on.” I gesture for her to follow me. “Let me show you to your room.”

I expect her to follow me, but instead, she turns to Oleg, her eyes softening. “I just want to thank you properly, Oleg. If it weren’t for you, I’d be the one lying on the ground with my face blown off.”

My eyebrows hit the top of my forehead, but no one is paying attention to me.

“How can I ever thank you?” she finishes.

“Seeing you and Sutton reunited is thanks enough,” he replies graciously.

Sutton’s eyes brighten. She hesitates for a split second before she lunges forward and throws her arms around Oleg.

Even he seems taken back by the gesture, because he stands there stiffly for a moment before returning her hug awkwardly.

“Thank you,” Sydney whispers sincerely. Then she releases him and turns to me. “I’m ready to see my room now.”

I hook my hand through her arm and lead her towards the staircase. Her head swivels from one side to the other, but I can tell she can’t take too much in.

There’s a veil over her eyes, fatigue weighing down her movements.

I show her to one of the guest bedrooms along the same hall where my bedroom is situated. It has an amazing view of the gardens, a small walk-in closet, and a gorgeous little lounge area complete with a flat screen and stereo system, though the real selling point for her right now is a warm mattress with the covers turned down.

“Here you are. Home sweet home.”

“Wow,” Sydney says again. “This house is unbelievable.”

“We moved in recently. Right after we got back from Nassau. I would have told you, of course, but… you stopped answering my calls.”

Sydney winces. She lowers herself down onto the loveseat and looks up at me with cloudy eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sutton. I should have kept you in the loop, but it was getting harder and harder to contact you without Paul noticing.”

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