Page 70 of Tainted Love

“Remembered what, you lunatic?”

“Our secret knock,” I reply.

“What do you want?” she demands, her arms tightly crossed over the soft fabric of her worn Soundgarden t-shirt.

“Well, hello to you as well, Princess,” I reply with a wry smile. The fiery glint in her eyes only intensifies at my teasing remark.

“Taz, it’s late. I’m here at your request, and it feels like I’ve been running for hours. The least you can do is let me get some rest,” she says, her voice slightly strained from exhaustion.

“Were you sleeping or lying in bed, mind buzzing with thoughts and plans?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Pfft. Whatever,” she replies, confirming my suspicions.

“Can I come in?” I ask, shifting my weight from one foot to the other.

Her eyes narrow skeptically. “Why?” she challenges.

“Not for that,” I quickly clarify, not wanting her to misinterpret my intentions. Although the idea of spending the night inside her is tempting, I just want to see her and talk a bit. I can control myself. Contrary to popular opinion, I’m not an animal. But it is true that being near her always ignites a fire within me that’s hard to ignore.

She glances at the watch on her right hand. “You have five minutes,” she says, stepping to the side and gesturing for me to enter.

The room is spacious and tastefully decorated, with a large window overlooking the city. The faint glow of a full moon seeping through the curtains, casting a soft light on the furnishings. As I step into the room, my nose is greeted by a subtle combination of strawberries and vanilla. My mind flashes to Sascha, imagining her showering with that intoxicating body wash. I quickly push the thought away and sink into one of the plush gray chairs by the desk.

I shift, crossing my ankle over my leg as I look at her. “So, what did you think of the game?” I ask.

She takes a sip of water before answering, making me wait. “It was... interesting,” she says, her tone familiarly evasive.

I lean toward her with a smile. “Interesting? That’s an interesting choice of words. Very non-committal. Very ‘Sascha.’”

Her lips quirk into a grin. “I enjoyed it, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Exactly,” I reply. “Anything about the game that you found particularly titillating?”

She nods, taking another sip before responding. “Actually, yes. Number thirteen was impressive on the ice, and he has some great stick skills.”

“Number thirteen beats up children and clubs baby seals for fun,” I reply wryly.

“The man can play hockey, child endangerment, and animal cruelty aside.”

I chuckle and shake my head. Leave it to her to compliment my teammate and not mention me. “Well, I’ll let you get your beauty sleep,” I say, pushing off my feet and standing up from my chair.

“Wait,” she says, motioning toward the chair. “I want to hear about your grandma.”

I oblige, sinking into the plush cushions as I share stories of recent visits with Gram.

Sascha listens intently, her warm gaze never leaving my face.

“She’s doing well,” I say hesitantly.

Sascha sees through me. “But?” she infers, her voice filled with understanding and empathy.

I pause momentarily before reluctantly admitting, “Well...there are some challenges.”

Sascha nods knowingly, her eyes reflecting the deep bond we share. “I know you,” she says softly. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“She used to have the sharpest memory, but now she asks me the same question five times in a row,” I confide in Sascha.

She nods sympathetically. “She’s super old, Michael. It’s natural for memory to fade with age. Give Ida a break,” she says with a hint of sarcasm. I can’t help but smile at her ever-present dry humor.