Page 38 of Hate You Most

Silence stretched between them.

Viktoriya met Dakota's eyes, fierce and miserable. “I have enjoyed my time in America, thanks to you. I wish things could be different, but they can't.” Viktoriya broke away for a moment, her gaze falling to the floor. “Back home, there are certain things that are expected of you. Certain lines you just don't cross. Some truths are better lived in the darkness, behind a closed door than spoken aloud,” she swallowed hard. “I can't be with you, for so many reasons. I can’t be with you—I can’t be with any girl.” Her voice was barely understandable. “So whatever this is, whatever is going on between us—it has to end tonight.”

“I don't think I can keep pretending I hate you anymore,” Dakota said, moving an inch away. “I'm sorry, but I can't bottle up my feelings as easily as you.”

“You have to,” she whispered.

Dakota stared at her. “What?”

“You have to keep pretending.” Viktoriya swallowed. “You have to.”

The words hung between them. Viktoriya looked at Dakota, at the way her eyes searched her face, looking for any sign that she didn't mean it. “Is that what you really want?”

Viktoriya didn't answer.

And that was answer enough.

Dakota shook her head. “What time are you leaving?”

“At ten tomorrow. Why?” Viktoriya asked.

“I have a flight back at nine.”

They stood there, inches apart.

Dakota finally stepped back toward her hotel room. “You should go,” she said and placed her hand on the door handle. “Before one of us does something stupid.”

“Sanchez,” Viktoriya said. “If I had the choice, we wouldn't be having this conversation.”

Dakota didn’t turn around, instead she pressed the handle down and opened the door. Light steamed into the room from the unnaturally bright hallway.

“I'm sorry,” Viktoriya said softly, and somehow that was what made Dakota close the door, and spin around to look her in the eye. They stood there, staring at each other, the air thick with everything they weren’t saying.

"Don't apologize,” Dakota said and took a step toward her. “You have nothing to apologize for, so don't do it.”

Her rival closed the space between them, and for the smallest fraction of a second Viktoriya couldn't fathom why she had ignored her, or why she was calling off this wonderful thing.

“You didn’t trick me,” she said quietly. “You didn’t force me, or anything. I knew exactly what I was getting into, and I would do it again and again if given the opportunity.”

Viktoriya's throat tightened. “You’re making this harder than it should be.”

Dakota studied her face, like she was saving it to her memory. “I know.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Dakota reached out, fingers brushing at the edge of Viktoriya's sleeve and against her fingers.

“Kiss me?” she asked.

Fuck. Viktoriya gripped the collar of Dakota's sweatshirt with both hands, pulled her closer and kissed Dakota completely breathless.

“This is a bad idea,” Viktoriya said as soon as they had broken apart for air.

“Probably,” was all her rival managed to reply before Viktoriya's lips were on hers again. Ten days of intentionally ignoring her, a forever of never kissing her again—she needed Dakota right now. She needed her deeper, needed this horrible thing she wasn't allowed to have.

“How much time do we have?” she asked and Dakota broke into a full on laugh against the side of her neck.

“What is so funny?”

Dakota pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “You need me that bad, huh? I thought you wanted to stay away.”