The Bucket List

15.1 The Signature Drink

That kiss, softly placed along the shadow of his jaw, is our last. Chester's arrival puts an end to our heated exchange, leaving Nicholai to tuck the evidence back into his briefs.

This can be whatever you want it to be.

I can feel his eyes on my back when I finally escape the car, murmuring excuses to Chester as to why I haven't left already, wanting only to fall into bed. But I'm restless and wound up, the memory of Nicholai like a brand against my skin. Foregoing the bed, I aim instead for the shower and shudder as cold water pounds my back, tempering the ache between my thighs.

If only we hadn't been in that car. If only we had more time. We could have—

Could have what?

I fall into bed, closing my eyes against the rush of images swarming me at the thought of Nicholai and I in it, together. No Chester. No barriers.

No strings attached.

# # #

Thirst drives me out of bed that morning, the room awash in the soft gray hue of the coming dawn. I shuffle to the kitchen on unsteady feet, checking my phone out of habit.

Nicholai: Wake up, kotonok.

Nicholai: Another adventure awaits.

A screenshot of the list accompanies the messages. I skim it, praying for a five-star breakfast. Perhaps his brother intended for us to enjoy a nice, warm meal. But of course I'm not so lucky.

Become a morning person and take a jog at Manhattan Beach. That's the next item on the list, paired with a specific date and time to complete said task.

On this day. In an hour's time.

I have just enough time to throw myself together—brush teeth, comb out the snarls in my hair, resist the urge to pop the zit forming over my left eyebrow. The usual routine. And then I'm out the door, a pair of sunglasses rammed over my eyes to hide the exhaustion lingering beneath them.

Manhattan Beach is close, within running distance. But I hate running. Loathe it, actually. So I opt instead for the bus, savoring the blast of cool air against my skin while the sky beyond my window pales to a cool, welcoming blue. Another cloudless day.

I scan the beach as the bus skids to a jarring halt, but Nicholai is nowhere to be found. On a whim, I decide to share my location with him and leave it for him to find me. And in the meantime, maybe I can try to decipher what the hell happened between us last night.

There are no regrets—not on my end, anyway. I knew what I was getting into from the moment his lips brushed my ear. He promised me nothing. I promised him even less. But where does that leave us?

I find myself pacing as I think back on our...kiss. The sounds he made as I took him in my hand. The way his fingers dragged through my hair, desperate to pull me close and then closer. I imagine how those fingers would feel between my thighs. Deeper.

No. There are definitely no regrets about last night. If anything, I want him more. But that's a dangerous thing, especially since I have no idea if he feels the same way. Maybe he's gotten what he wanted from me. Maybe, like his last assistant, my usefulness has run its course.

I dismiss the paranoid thought with a frustrated groan. He wouldn't invite me out here if he wanted nothing to do with me. I remind myself of that, over and over again, even as doubt nips at my heels.

"Amara."

The sound of his voice never fails to thrill me. I turn at the shore's edge to find Nicholai lingering on the concrete path, dressed in black athletic gear that, if I had to guess, is worth the entirety of my wardrobe.

I meet him on the path. "You're looking...refreshed," I tell him. And he does. His hair is windswept but his eyes are clear, his skin clean shaven.

His smirk speaks volumes. "Oh, I slept very well."

"I bet you did." I roll my eyes, thankful for the sunglasses. Nicholai's gaze lingers on my chest as I begin to stretch, drawing my foot to my hip and trying not to feel too smug about the way he's looking at me.

Apparently I'm not the only one without a hint of regret about what happened between us last night.

"Well?" I push. "Are we going for a run, or what?"

"So impatient." But he's backing away as he says it, already half-jogging along the path. "Let's see if you can keep up."