Page 18 of Saving Forever
“Hockey and our families and the sanctuary.”
There’s a strange look on her face, one that’s reminiscent of disappointment, but it’s gone before I can truly take it in. Then she nods. “West says dinner in about thirty minutes.”
“Why do you seem like you’re mad at me?”
Her eyes meet mine. “Oh, honey, not at all. I just think you’ve been presented with this amazing opportunity and you’re letting it pass you by. If it doesn’t work out—if there’s truly nothing there beyond friendship—that’s absolutely fine. But why not give it a shot? You already had a little crush on him. What do you really have to lose? Would it be your first broken heart?”
“Not even close,” I mutter. “But this is different. We’re married. I mean, imagine if—” I stop talking and look around before lowering my voice to a whisper. “—we were sleeping together. And then at the end of a year, we just shake hands and walk away. I’m not built that way.”
“For some reason, I don’t picture Viktor doing that. I can’t explain it. There’s just something about him. And the two of you together…I don’t know. You look right—like a couple.”
I blink.
I’ve had a moment or two where I felt that way as well.
When he held me while I cried in the hotel room.
When he comforted me during the turbulence.
When he promised to protect me, no matter what.
There is definitely more to Viktor Maslak than meets the eye.
Now I just have to figure out if I’m brave enough to find out what it is.
Chapter Six
Viktor
It’s late by the time we get to the barn-turned-apartment where Holly’s been living. It’s a little rustic for my taste, but it’s clean and well-appointed.
“I just want to sleep,” she says. “The couch is kind of small, so you can sleep on the bed with me. I trust you.”
She goes into the bedroom and I follow her. The room is small, but there’s a queen-size bed, which is much better than the small couch. She grabs something out of the drawer and then disappears into the bathroom. So, I change out of the jeans and button-down shirt I wore today and pull on shorts and a T-shirt. Normally, I sleep naked, but that doesn’t seem like the right thing to do in this situation.
I have my toiletry bag in my duffel and sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish since there’s only the one bathroom.
I feel a moment of discomfiture, like I don’t know what the hell I’m doing here, but then she comes out and I let my gaze travel up from her pretty bare feet to the messy bun on top of her head. She’s taken off her makeup and is wearing an oversized T-shirt and little shorts that give me the most spectacular view of her legs.
She’s beautiful.
There’s no doubt about that.
I just never allowed myself to really appreciate her before.
Because she wasn’t mine.
Because it wasn’t appropriate.
Because I don’t think she finds me nearly as attractive as I find her.
But she’s my wife now. Deal or no deal, we’re legally and emotionally entangled. For better or worse. And all those other vows we took.
“I’ll be back,” I murmur, standing up and hurrying into the bathroom.
I brush my teeth and relieve myself, wash my hands, and then head back to the bedroom. It’s mostly dark, nothing but a small bedside lamp illuminating the room. She’s on her phone and I can practically see the anxiety coming off of her.
“What is it?” I ask quietly.
