Page 135 of Toxic Temptation
Luka’s eyes shift to me, and I recognize that calculating look immediately. “Okay, I’ll skip Mario Kart,” he agrees, far too easily.
“Wonderful.”
“… if Vesper puts me to bed.”
I can see Kovan fighting a smile, clearly impressed despite his annoyance. “Luka?—”
“Please, Uncle Kovan! I really want Vesper tonight.”
I brace myself for Kovan’s inevitable refusal. But instead, he sighs. “Fine. Have it your way.”
Luka pumps his fist in the air. “Yes!”
I stare at Kovan in shock. “I can’t believe you actually gave in.”
He shakes his head, almost smiling. “Sometimes, you have to pick your battles.”
“Not everything has to be a battle,” I mumble softly.
Kovan moves closer, stopping just a foot away. His green eyes lock onto mine, and I feel heat crawl up my neck. “It doesn’t have to be,” he agrees. “But it usually is. That’s life.”
Before I can respond, Luka grabs my hand. “Come on, Vesper. Bedtime!”
He drags me away before I can steal another look at Kovan.
Which is probably for the best. My thoughts have been scattered lately. And my willpower? I’m starting to think it doesn’t exist.
I spent most of last night trying not to think about Kovan while I used the expensive vibrator I bought two years ago and have touched exactly twice. Both times on my birthday.
“Pathetic” doesn’t begin to cover it.
Upstairs, I make Luka brush his teeth, then let him talk me into three bedtime stories instead of his usual one. When his eyelidsstart drooping, I pull his covers up and begin massaging his scalp the same way Kovan did for me not so long ago.
I was barely conscious that night, but I was still completely aware of him. I’ve never slept so deeply or woken up so rested. Of course, I also woke up wearing his shirt—soft white cotton that felt better than silk—in a bed that might as well have been made of clouds.
“Vesper?” Luka mumbles, his voice heavy with oncoming sleep.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I wish you lived with us all the time.”
“I practically do,” I point out. “When I’m not at the hospital, I’m here with you.”
“But your stuff is still at your apartment.”
“Because that’s my home.”
“This could be your home, though.”
I keep stroking his hair, my throat suddenly tight. “Time to sleep now, Luka. You’re tired.”
“I like to pretend Uncle Kovan is my dad,” he whispers, eyes closing.
“I know. You told me.”
He shifts onto his side, clutching my hand against his chest like a security blanket. Something spikes up inside me, a prickly kind of longing I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.
“I also pretend that you’re my mama.”
