16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Z oya

Although I was tired and ready for sleep, now that I’m in bed with Miska snuggled next to me, I’m wide awake. Instead of keeping her over the covers, I’ve tugged her underneath and we’re snuggled close. I take a deep inhale of her lamb-soft fur. She no longer smells like Max. Now she smells like the outdoors and the park, and best of all, she smells like Lash.

He had the most joyful smile on that fang-filled mouth as he ran and played with her in the park. Have I ever, even once in my life, been so carefree? I wonder what it would feel like to not have a worry in the world.

My mind wanders back to what I was looking for when I began searching for someone online. Someone from America who would bring me here for the K-1 visa. I had such high hopes.

I recall just what I dreamed of. Little things, like cooking breakfast with a man who loves me or going on little jaunts even if it was just to the farmers’ market. Nothing was fancy or expensive. Just doing things together as our eyes met and our hands brushed. I imagined laughter and gentle touches and two lives merging effortlessly as we became better as a team than we ever were when we were single.

Things didn’t work out, though. If anyone had asked me just three days ago what my fondest wish was. I would have said it was to escape Max and live safely in a women’s shelter before I was deported back to Ukraine. But now my desires have expanded to something so much more hopeful.

Could I be safe here? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? The back of my mind whispers something so soft I almost don’t hear it, and I definitely don’t acknowledge it. But it’s there all the same. It’s whispering, teasing really, that I might find love.

I touch my lips as I rewind and watch every moment of my one-second kiss as Lash and I walked home tonight. I clutch Miska closer and realize I’m developing feelings for him not because he rescued me, but because of the character he’s revealing to me inch by inch.

Snuggling closer to Miska, I let my thoughts rest as I ease into sleep.

I wake to the aroma of fresh coffee and the patter of Miska’s paws on the hardwood floor outside my door. Yawning, I stretch and pad out to the kitchen where I find Lash setting out butter and jelly on the table, with the aroma of something baking in the oven. Lash is baking?

He grins when he sees me, fangs glinting. “Morning, sleepyhead. Miska and I have already taken our morning walk. Thought we’d take it easy today, so I grabbed some whomp biscuits at the store.”

“Whomp biscuits?”

“It’s the noise the package makes when you whack it on the counter to open it. I grew up on these. They’re cheap, easy, and delish.”

“Delish, huh?” I inhale the rich scent of coffee as I watch him pull the pan out of the oven. “Are there any bakeries here in the Zone?”

“Some of the street vendors sell a few varieties of baked goods out of their carts, but no actual bakeries. Why?”

“Just wondering, that’s all.” I pick two biscuits, cut them open, and butter them as I ask, “What’s on the agenda?”

“Well, I was thinking…” Lash leans back against the counter, arms crossed casually. “How about I teach you a classic Other card game? It’s called zim-zam. Played it all the time growing up in the Zone.”

“Sounds fun! I’m always up for learning something new.” I spread strawberry jam on the biscuit and hum in appreciation at the burst of sweetness on my tongue.

“Great.” Lash’s smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Fair warning, though. I’m pretty good. Think you can handle losing a few rounds?”

“Oh, it’s on.” I shoot him a playful glare. “Don’t underestimate me. I might just surprise you.”

Lash chuckles, a warm rumble in his chest. “I’ll grab the cards then. Prepare to get your ass kicked properly!” Suddenly, his eyes widen as he realizes his words might have terrified me.

Although a few days ago, the threat of an ass whipping would have sent lightning bolts of fear sizzling through my veins, I feel nothing but the anticipation of having fun with Lash.

“Ass kicked? In your dreams!” I enjoy watching his handsome face relax as I let him see how comfortable I am with him.

Grinning to myself, I finish my last biscuit and take another satisfying sip of coffee. As Lash returns from a trip to his room brandishing two worn decks of cards, I can’t help but marvel at how comfortable this all feels. The easy banter, the casual domesticity. It’s nice, joking and making playful jests with someone.

As crazy as this whole fake fiancée scheme seemed at first, moments like these make it feel almost… natural. Real. I shake off the thought as Lash deals the cards.

One thing at a time, Zoya. For now, just focus on learning the game—and wiping that smug grin off Lash’s face when you beat him.

Game on.