He gives a hungry groan and wraps his arms around me even tighter. His tongue runs along the roof of my mouth, making me soak through my panties in seconds. I let out a whimper and press my body even harder against his, wanting and needing him inside me. His hand runs down my back to grab my ass as his other hand hugs me closer, and when he hits my sore tailbone and his other hand accidentally squeezes my bruised arm, I can’t help but flinch and let out a pained gasp that has him dropping me so quickly I have to take a couple of quick steps to right myself to keep from falling over.
“I am so sorry,” he quickly says, looking at me as if he’s just broken me.
“I’m fine, Dima.” I take a step forward and frown when he backs up.
He scrubs a hand over his face and lets out a deep sigh that has warning bells ringing in my ears and a sick feeling hitting my gut like a punch.
“You were hurt because of me.” His voice is calm and steady while his eyes are anything but. There’s so much pain and fear in them, and it breaks my heart to see him like this. My big, fearless man haunted by his past and terrified of the future, ofourfuture.
I step forward, determined to make him see reason and comfort him, but he just shakes his head and holds a hand up to stop me.
“I need time to think, Gina.”
I’m so thrown by his words that all I can do is stare up at him. “Think about what?” I ask, biting my lip in a useless attempt to keep my eyes from tearing up
“About everything. I refuse to let another person I love get hurt because of me.” His eyes run over me, stopping at the sight of my tears freely running down my cheeks and dripping from my chin because I refuse to wipe them away. His expression softens, and for one beautiful second I think he’s going to reach for me, tell me he doesn’t mean it, and that he wants me to stay, but he doesn’t do that. He clenches his hands into fists and grits his jaw so tightly I can see the slight tick of a vein if I look close enough.
“You want me to leave?” I ask, wincing at how damn pathetic I sound.
He rubs the back of his neck and shakes out his other hand that he’d been clenching so hard. I’ve never seen him so agitated. He’s usually so calm and stoic, and it’s unsettling to see.
“For now, yes,” he finally says. His eyes meet mine, but when I start crying harder, he looks away. “I am sorry, Gina.”
I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I run for the door and rush down the stairs, nearly breaking my damn neck in my haste to get the fuck out of here. Ducking my head, I bolt through the club, too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes. Once I’m in my car, I force myself to take a calming breath. I can lose my shit once I’m out of sight of the club, I tell myself, but I can’t let go just yet. If I do, I’ll never be able to pull myself together enough to get home. My heart hurts so badly, I briefly wonder if I’m actually having a fucking heart attack. Once I’m closer to home, the idea of facing my family is too much, so I do the only thing I can do—a very illegal U-turn that earns me a few honks but puts me on the right path to my best friend.
I don’t know how I manage to make it to her house without killing myself or someone else. I’m driving on autopilot, my head spinning with what’s just happened and my body so tense I’m shaking. I try not to think about losing Dima, but the fear of it is like a hand around my throat, slowly squeezing the life out of me.
When I pull into Jamie’s driveway, I send her a text, asking her to come outside. She’s out the door in seconds, and as soon as she jumps in the passenger seat and takes one look at my face, her arms are around me, holding me close as I finally let myself go.
She doesn’t ask me a single question, just rubs my back and lets me ruin her shirt because she’s the best goddamn friend in the world. I clutch at her like the lifeline she is until I’m finally exhausted and at the sniffling and hiccupping phase of my meltdown.
“Better?” she asks when I sit back up.
“No,” I sputter, my voice raw and stuffed-up sounding, “and yes.”
“You want to talk about it?”
I grab a tissue from the glovebox and blow my nose before finally turning to her. I’d already texted her about the Irish incident, so I only needed to fill her in on Adam confronting Dima and then the visit to my work and, finally, what just happened at his apartment.
“Fucking idiot,” she whispers, leaning the side of her head against the seat.
“It’s not his fault.”
She rolls her eyes at the way I immediately come to his defense. “I told you about his brother. Sergei’s death changed him. He still carries the guilt around, and I know he thinks he’s protecting me by keeping his distance.”
The lump in my throat starts to grow bigger when I think about the way he’d looked at me and refused to touch me. Swiping away a new batch of tears, I sigh and add, “What if he doesn’t change his mind, Jamie? What if he keeps pushing me away?”
“Then he’s an idiot that doesn’t deserve you.” Not even her matter-of-fact tone can make me smile right now, but I reach over and squeeze her arm, letting her know I appreciate the support.
“I really love him. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this.” There’s no point in denying it. I’m completely, dangerously in love with Dima, to the unhealthy point of not knowing how I’ll survive without him.
Her eyes soften as she rests her hand on top of mine. “This is not news to me,” she says with a forced laugh. “But you’re going to be fine. He will come to his senses, or you will move on, and it will hurt like hell and make you feel like you can’t survive it, but you can, Gina. You’re stronger than you think, and I’ll be right by your side the whole way, but this isn’t over yet. Right now, he’s just taking some time to think.”
I smile at her and lean in for another hug. I tell myself she’s right, that it’s not over yet and that I’m not the sort of woman who collapses without her man, but deep down I know it’s not true. Yeah, I may survive without Dima, I’ll continue to go to work, eat, and my heart will still beat, but I’ll never be the same. I’ve been in love with him for as long as I can remember, and now that I actually have him, I can’t imagine my life without him. Just the idea of never feeling those strong arms around me or his sexy accent whispering in my ear or seeing his blue eyes soften when they meet mine, has me wanting to curl into the fetal position and never get up again.
“Do you want to stay over tonight?”
Her voice pulls me from my morbid thoughts. I give her what I hope is a convincing smile. “That’s okay. I should be getting home. I can’t take any more days off work right now, so I have no choice but to go in tomorrow.”