Only You

Chapter 16

Elora

Alexey is talking. Attractive, polite Alexey is speaking as we finish our desserts and I can't even hear a word he's saying. My mind is too hung up on my earlier conversation with my parents, my nerves still on edge and my stomach still queasy.

I'm supposed to meet him. My future husband. In two weeks. And my first reaction wasn't excitement or a surge of nerves about what to wear or how it'll go. No, my first thought belonged to Alexey. So did the second. I wondered what he'd say if he knew I was practically engaged, not because I delude myself with the idea he and I might be anything other than what we are but because continuing with our deal might go against his morals.

"What's going on up in that pretty head of yours?" Those words finally pierce the thoughts clouding my mind.

"What? Nothing, sorry. I'm just a little distracted," I excuse quickly, trying for a smile.

"Anything I can help with?" he asks and something in my stomach twists. Alexey seems so genuinely good and polite and lying to him feels like kicking a puppy. Of course, my personal business is private and I don't owe him an explanation but deceiving people has never been one of my strong suits. Well, apart from when it comes to that one topic, that is.

I didn't even mean to lie. The first time we met, I thought I'd never have to see him again so it didn't seem important. Now it would be weird to bring it up.

"I have a thing or two in mind," I say in an attempt to seem flirty or whatever but my cheeks burn up immediately and that annoying fond smile finds its way to my date's face.

"Very well, you have anything in mind for today's program?" he asks me, casually taking another bite of his chocolate cake. I envy his ability to act so natural when we talk about the aspects of our deal while I blush uncontrollably. I get the sudden urge to look around the restaurant to see if anyone is listening in, even though no bystander would understand what we're talking about.

I shake my head, no longer trusting my voice to function properly. When I turn back to my strawberry tiramisu, Alexey fills the silence, "Guess we'll just have to go with the flow again.

-

Twenty minutes later, we're in our usual room but when he goes to sit on the couch like the times before, I stop him with a hand on his upper arm. Trying not to get distracted by the way his muscles flex beneath my touch, I hurriedly say, "I prefer the bed."

He turns around and knowingly smirks down at me, making my heart race. "Maybe that's because we haven't given the couch our best shot yet," he offers.

Despite the flutter in my stomach, I stand my ground. "I think it's because your hands are on the bed and not me," I say quietly. "Plus, I liked the way your weight felt on top of me. Like you could block out everything." I try to tell him that as casually as possible so as not to come off as pathetic.

Turns out I didn't need to worry since Alexey only seems to have heard the first part. With a frown, he asks, "You don't like it when I touch you?"

I recoil a little, not having expected him to draw that conclusion. "Of course, I do. Haven't I made that obvious? I just meant that it's more likely to trigger me," I explain.

"Are you ever going to tell me what exactly happened to you?" he asks, studying me closely and all of the sudden, it feels like we're way too close together. Too intimate. I take a step back and shake my head, averting my eyes.

He can obviously tell he's pushing too far because the next time he speaks, he sounds more cheerful. "The bed it is. You can always just tie me up, just so you know," he says and I'm not sure whether he's joking or not. Something about his eyes makes me think he wouldn't be opposed. I box that knowledge up in case I'll ever need it in the future.