“Calm down, Anni.” I stroke her shoulder. “You don’t usually get into fights.”
She’s somewhat of a people pleaser. The type who doesn’t want anyone around her to feel uncomfortable—or she was before Creigh started purging those traits out of her.
“Maya is the exception. She’s a super diva bitch who thinks everyone is beneath her.”
“Her sister looked nice.”
“Mia is anything but nice, but she’s not a clingy, condescending bitch like her sister. I swear Maya has gotten worse ever since she set her sights on my brother.”
An ache blossoms in my chest and I hate the feeling, or how much I want it to go away but can’t do anything about it.
“Are they…” I clear my throat when I’m about to choke on my words. “Are she and Jeremy engaged or set to be engaged?”
“She wishes.” Annika punches the air. “Maya started this agenda on her own last year and has been actively trying to make it real.”
“Maybe Jeremy agrees, or she wouldn’t have been this persistent.”
“Like hell he does. He really just talks to her and Mia because they’re Nikolai’s sisters. She’s the delusional one who acts like he he’s her nonexistent fiancé sometimes. Ugh. I hate her guts and I’m so going to tell Nikolai so he’ll keep her in line.”
I slide my finger on the side of my nose. “What if Jeremy wants to marry her?”
“Don’t jinx it. No, he doesn’t.”
“He didn’t look bothered just now.”
“Oh, please. That’s his standard expression, but what if…” Her face pales and she comes to an abrupt halt. “What if he actually agrees if our parents arrange the marriage? She’s Russian!”
I pat Annika’s shoulder even as mine goes rigid.
“No, no,” she says, not seeming to believe her own words. “I’m the one jinxing it now. There’s no way that would happen.”
My friend spends the rest of the walk to the shelter convincing herself that it’s all a play of her imagination and cursing Maya for calling her Nika and a midget.
Me?
I just get lost in my own head as I go over the stock of pet food.
On one hand, I shouldn’t feel this way for someone I’m not even dating.
On the other, I hate that I can’t stop.
But what I hate even more is that I care.
Maybe this wouldn’t have made a difference a week ago, but after that night he and I talked, I stupidly thought we shared something more than twisted kinks and savage sex.
But maybe that was wishful thinking on my part.
Maybe, as he said, I should neither trust him nor find him safe.
Because he’s using me as much as I’m using him, and that’s it.
I’m dejected the whole day, despite my attempts to cheer myself up and even chatting with my parents for over thirty minutes.
The thought of going to the cottage and deepening this feeling of nausea doesn’t sit right with me.
You know what? I’m not going.
It’s not mandatory or anything.