She’s a shit actor.
Jealousy has never looked better.
It has me pushing on the brakes earlier than planned. “I’m with company.”
A snippet of conceitedness prickles goose bumps on Emerson’s nape.
I squash them like a bug after recalling the last words she spoke to me.
I don’t like you.
“But I can lose her for a few hours if you have something in mind.”
Zoya gasps before talking at a million miles an hour. “Mikhail Marshmallow Man Dokovic, you’re playing with fire.”
“So?”
I’m not worried. Emerson looks set to crush my nuts with her teeth, but for some fucked-up reason, I am more excited by the prospect than scared.
Emerson isn’t just good in bed.
She’s fucking dynamite.
I’ve not met a woman with her level of stamina, and I never will.
Zoya continues to push. “Do you know what happens when a marshmallow gets too close to a fire?” She doesn’t wait for me to answer. She squeals in my ear, “Heturns into a soft, gooey mess.”
Red-hot heat races across Emerson’s face when I reply, “As I’ve told you previously, my heart is the only soft and gooey thing about me, sweetheart. The rest is hard and thumping.”
I’m dead in all meanings of the word. Not just from the death stare Emerson hits me with, but also from the growl of my brother, who would kill, and has killed, a man with allergies for sniffing too close to his wife.
I just scribbled my name at the top of Andrik’s hit list.
“Say goodbye to Mikhail,?????.” Andrik’s tone is controlled, almost reserved—until he adds, “Permanently.”
I laugh like I’m not a dead man before trying to save face. It is two seconds after Emerson throws open the SUV’s door and hightails it to the entrance full of employees I have no clue what to do with. I’ve lived alone since the day Emerson left me high and dry. I hate sleeping in a house full of bodies, especially when I don’t know any of them.
After watching Emerson enter our marital home at the speed of a rocket, I say, “Give me until tomorrow afternoon before showing up at my door. I’m sure there will be something left to pick from my carcass.”
Andrik growls, but that is the start and end of his reprimand.
Zoya isn’t as eager to let bygones be bygones. “This would be a lot easier if you told her you’re doing this for her instead of yourself, Marshmallow Man.”
Ipffther as if she is stupid.
It couldn’t be further from the truth. Her smarts are undeniable when she says, “You still love her, Mikhail. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for all involved.”
“She left me, not the other way around. My feelings don’t matter.”
“Are you sure about that?” Zoya snaps out just as fast, her emotions just as heavy.
I lose the chance to clarify which response she’s seeking clarification on when Andrik repeats his earlier request. “Say goodbye to Mikhail,?????.”
He adds a handful more words to the end of his reply. But since I want to sleep at some stage tonight, I’ll keep them out of my mouth.
Sometimes the worst nightmares form from words.
Mine started with three.
