by Miller, Coco
“Who my brother-in-law?” I jab a finger in the direction of Maxim who is now full on watching us.
“Yeah him.” Trevor appears afraid and my resolve to flirt dissipates. Ugh, why is this so fucking hard?
“I think I’ll just watch from over there by the bar.” I nod as he smiles.
Poor Trevor. Hopefully one day he will make some girl happy, but that girl ain’t me, and it won’t ever be. To be fair, I don’t blame him for being apprehensive. Maxim is a formidable threat. He’s gigantic, and stoic, and he doesn’t give a rats ass about any man. A lethal combination. One that Trevor has no intentions of dealing with.
I walk back over to Kelly who gives me a death stare. “What happened?” she asks as if she’s my mother.
“I’m just not into him.”
I survey the pub and laugh along with all the people having a good time. I wish I was. Tasha glances at her phone and walks away from Maxim. She heads to the front door, most likely to take the call outside where she can hear better. So of course Maxim takes this opportunity to stroll over. Such an opportunist.
“Hello, ladies. Having a good time?”
“Great time,” Kelly answers as she eye fucks him with her “let’s get a room” blue eyes. My God, she is practically undressing his body, and I have to stand here and watch it all go down. Maxim must notice because he laughs a cute and sheepish laugh which makes me angry and attracted to him both at the same time.
Call me crazy.
“Can I talk to you for a second, Tantsor?” he drawls, laying his accent on extra thick.
And now my panties are wet. But this time it’s not just because Maxim is the most attractive and sexy man in the room, but it’s more because I feel like I’m his. For the first time since I’ve met him, I feel like he actually cares about me. I might be reaching and grasping for straws right now, but I feel it. He wants me and not just in a sexual way.
The way his hand grips mine.
The way his eyes plead with mine.
The way his eyes appear hurt with the thought I might say no.
I feel like for once, I have him. It’s a feeling which makes me smile from ear to ear.
“Sure,” I say in an overly perky manner. My attempt to feign a casual relationship between the two of us in front of Kelly.
He grabs my hand, walking me to a far corner of the pub out of eyeshot and earshot.
“What’s up?” I ask, hoping to keep the conversation light.
“I can’t do this.” His eyes harden as he gazes upon me.
“You can’t do what exactly?” I need further clarification for my frazzled mind.
“This. Me and you. I was an idiot for thinking something more could happen with you. I’m married to your sister, and I need to focus on her.”
I feel like the floor of the pub has fallen from beneath me. I’ve been the one trying to fight this. I’ve been the one feeling guilty as fuck, but started to believe that maybe we were destined. That maybe his feelings for me were too enormous to fight any longer.
Now he’s telling me this? Now? Incredible. I should have been the one giving this speech. I wanted to be the strong one. I wanted to be the one able to resist him. To dump him. Not the other way around.
My eyes widen as large as saucers and then I grit my teeth and speak.
“You felt the need to tell me this right now in the middle of the fucking pub?”
“It just needed to be said.”
“Why? I haven’t even said two words to you tonight.”
“You think that matters, Katrina? You think I don’t know that you’re watching me from every corner of the room in the same way that I do you?”
“You’re right, Maxim, and it needs to stop. This was just fucking. Nothing else.”
“Katrina, don’t say that it was just fucking.”
“What else would I call it? And by the way, I’ve had better.”
I flick away his rejection abruptly and head to the bar. It hurts. Bad. Really bad. It shouldn’t though. Everything he said was one-hundred percent correct and I needed to hear it. We shouldn’t have done any of it. I was an idiot for thinking I could be anything more to him. I mean, he’s married to my sister. I shouldn’t have been the one to think I could pull him away from that vow, or that he would willingly walk away. I am such an idiot. We were just fucking. This was no romance.
I need drinks. Lots of them. Because the sting of his rejection just woke me the hell up. I haven’t been just lusting for my sister’s hot husband, I have fallen for him. How on earth does a grown ass woman fall for someone she could never have in a million years. It is silliness.
I can’t believe for one second that I thought we would both live happily ever after. How could we? How could any of this ever been ok? Imagine me telling my mother that Maxim is leaving Tasha and is now with me. She would have tried whipping me within an inch of my life.
Shots. Shots. Shots.
Just like the song, and I am ready for many of them. All the alcohol please. I need it all. And I need it all as quickly as possible.
Kelly joins me at the bar, and I order a round of tequila. No playing around tonight. I’m going hardcore, and I want a path of total destruction in my wake.
And so, it begins.
By the time I down my third shot, I’m feeling no pain. My skin tingles and I want to dance. Kelly and I shake our tail feathers on the makeshift dance floor of the pub and I let loose. It feels so good to just let go, and forget about every mistake I’ve made since coming back home. I forget about Maxim, I forget about Tasha, and I even forget about my mom as I surrender myself to the music. I close my eyes, trying even harder to forget him completely.
After a few minutes, we down two more shots, and now I can’t feel my nose. Or fingers. Or lips. But I can feel every strand of hair on my head and it hurts. We dance some more, hopefully looking sexy as we do, but I think that may be impossible, because I can’t feel my toes. I don’t think I’ve been this drunk since freshman year of college.
I sway my ass to the right, then the left, and then I do it all over again. I smile wide, letting the beat fill my soul, and I wave my arms over my head, letting the rhythm consume me. I open my eyes, laughing as I glance over at Kelly and she touches her face.
“I just can’t feel anything,” she screams over the loud music.
“Me either,” I bounce as I scream back.
I don’t care about anything. Maxim who?
Oh right, him.
Maxim stares at me from his spot at his table. His table with Tasha and his two weird Russian friends. His eyes haven’t left mine, and if he doesn’t watch it, some would say that he’s stalking me or clocking me. Either way I feel his judgement in the very marrow of my bones. He wants me to stop.
So instead of rushing to the bathroom to possibly puke, I dance more. I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of showing him how miserable he just made me by his words. So I smile, and I sway, and I make sure not to let Maxim affect me in any way.
Hours (or maybe minutes) rush by and it’s official, I’m as drunk as a skunk. Maybe even a little drunker than that. Knowing Maxim wants to focus on his marriage and not my every sexual fantasy pisses me off more and more as I try to forget.
Not in a selfish way, but when I’m drunk the selfish bitch comes out. Yes, of course I want him to be happy. Yes, of course I don’t want to be a homewrecker. If Maxim chooses to focus on his marriage to Tasha, then so be it, but because I’m drunk– I rage at the very thought of it.
I want nothing more in the world than to have Maxim all to myself each and every day. It hurts so badly knowing it’ll never happen, and I don’t know how to handle it. I can’t handle it. I try and try, but something inside me is broken, and in my drunken stupor I want to, even now, kiss him.
Sad, I know.
My alcohol mission has failed. I still have this damn man on my brain.
“I’m heading home,” Kelly says with a slur.
“I don’
t think you should drive,” I say at least realizing that neither of us are in the condition to drive anywhere.
She smiles and whispers in my ear, “Trevor is taking me home.”
She giggles as Trevor’s arm snakes around her waist. Well, at least someone is getting lucky tonight. I give Kelly a hug as she kisses my cheek. “Call me.”
I’m alone on the dance floor and the music slows. I feel like crying, but I won’t. Not for him. Not for anybody. I can only curse at myself as one lonely tear trickles down my cheek. Fucker. My tears betray me.
Maxim walks up at just that moment, and I quickly swipe my hand across my cheek, wiping the tear’s existence from my face.
“Are you okay, Tantsor?”
He asks the dumbest questions ever. Uh, fuck no I’m not. I don’t say that though. Instead, I laugh, but it’s not because what he asked was funny. No, it’s a sarcastic laugh, filled with anger and pain.
“Yeah, I’m real good. Fucking great.”
“Katrina, let me take you home,” he says all sexily.
I snarl in response at him with folded arms and a scour on my face. “You go home.”
“Come on,” he chuckles as if he’s so amused by my pain. “Let me take us both home.”
“Where’s your wife?” I glance around, not seeing Tasha anywhere.
“I’m not really sure.”
His eyes scan the pub. He pulls out his phone to call her, but instead shoots off a text message. Within seconds whoever he texted responds.
“She’s outside by the car.”
That was obviously a rhetorical question. I guess American smartass doesn’t translate well into Russian.
“Fucking awesome,” I say. “I don’t really give a shit where she is.”
My foul mouth is getting me heated stares from Maxim, but I don’t care. I sway as I stand before him. The floors and the walls of the pub seem to be vibrating in a wavelike pattern. Maxim quickly wraps an arm around me and leads me outside despite the fact that I don’t want him to.
“About time,” Tasha says with her snooty demeanor sobering me up. Okay, not really, I’m pretty drunk. “I can’t believe you’ve gotten to be this age and you still can’t drink, Trina.”
If I wasn’t so wasted I’d smack her, but lucky for her, I see three of her heads. I might miss.
They toss me in the backseat, or at least that’s how it feels, and I pass out. Not remembering a damn thing about the ride home, I wake up and it’s dark. Strong arms hold me close to a solid chest that smells like soap and sandalwood.
“Where am I?” I ask groggily.
“Shh, you’re home.” Maxim holds me and gently lays me down.
“What happened?” I try to sit up, but he is there.
“You got pretty wasted and passed out in the backseat. I carried you to your room,” he says, standing at the foot of my bed. He reaches down and removes each shoe gingerly from my feet.
“Maxim.” I don’t know what I want to say, but I know I don’t want him to go….or stay.
“Shhh, Katrina,” he whispers. His hands move up my legs as I shiver.
He doesn’t stop as he undoes the zipper to my jeans, and then they still don’t stop as he tugs them down my legs.
“I can’t feel my toes,” I say randomly and he chuckles.
“They’re still there I assure you.” He runs his hands over my toes and then travels up my legs again.
“Ok good, I was so worried.”
The room is dark, and I can barely make out his chiseled body as his hands cause goosebumps to raise along my skin. For the second time tonight I grow wet. A need builds as he lowers his head to my lips.
“Next time drink Russian vodka. It won’t make sick,” he breathes heavily across my mouth before he captures me in a searing kiss.
I desperately want him inside of me to ease the ache of my breaking heart, but he ends the kiss and pulls away. My lips immediately miss his touch. My everything misses his touch.
He stares silently into my eyes, and my insides grow warm. I feel as if he wants to say something but doesn’t know how to say it or if he should say it. So I just fill the void with my own words.
“Please tell me what’s going on with you and my sister.”
He sits on the bed. I’m a little tipsy still, but I can comprehend everything. He runs his fingers through his tousled hair. He doesn’t answer for a long time. I start to think maybe he fell asleep, but then he takes a deep breath.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“You made that clear tonight.”
“I really like you, Katrina.”
“I like you too,” I answer. “But we can’t keep going on like this. Would you ever leave her?”
That’s the liquor talking. Of course he won’t leave Tasha, and even if he did, it would be too messy. It would be weird. Our family would never be the same again.
He turns to face me, a solemn look on his face. “No, I can’t leave her.”
Well that answers that shit. My blood boils; my temperature rising along with it.
“I think you should leave.”
That’s it. I’ve made up my mind. I’m returning to Boston tomorrow, so I can eradicate this man from my every waking thought. My mom will just have to understand, and if she cuts me off then so be it.
“Katrina, please…”
I cut him off before he can spew anymore garbage from his mouth. All he wants is to sleep with me. He doesn’t give a damn about my feelings. He doesn’t care about me at all.
“Leave Maxim, now.”
He rises from the bed, taking a few steps toward the door. Before walking out, he turns to face me. “You just don’t understand.”
“I do understand. Now get out,” I say a little louder. I grab at the covers, pulling them up to my chin as a tear falls down my face.
“No.”
“What did you say?”
The air buzzes with an electrical current. I twist my hands in my lap as Maxim sits back down at the foot of my bed without my permission. For a few seconds, it’s awkward. His eyes watch my lips as my tongue darts across them, wetting my bottom lip. Then he starts talking.
“Katrina, when I met your sister I was so...grateful; but now that I’ve met you things are different.”
“Different how?”
“I can picture a life with you.” He scoots closer and I tug the covers further up my body, like a security blanket.
“But we know that’s out of the question.”
“Hear me out.”
For the next few minutes I let Maxim talk. He tells me about his mother and how they run a company together. He grew up in Moscow, leaving the country when his father left the family. His mother brought him to America and together they built everything they have from the ground up. I’m impressed when he tells me of his future plans to take over the company in a few months when his mother retires.
“Does my sister help you with the business?”
“I don’t discuss much of my work with her,” he says, his eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the moonlight.
“Why?”
“She’s usually not very interested in it. I guess her first marriage was all about work.”
I think back to Jamal and Tasha’s marriage. They both worked extreme hours and it built a wedge between them. They weren’t married for too long, and in that time they hardly ever saw each other, but they definitely appeared more in love than Maxim and Tasha do.
Maxim is strong, masculine, and all alpha– a complete contrast to Jamal. With his nerdy glasses and flimsy body, but my sister adored him for whatever reason.
“That’s true. It was.”
“What about you, Tantsor? Do you like what you do?”
“I teach high school. It’s been hard. I look just as young as many of the seniors. Some of them have siblings older than me. It’s tough getting the respect I need to run the classroom.”
“So why high school then?”
“I feel tha
t’s when kids really begin to know themselves. Like you said, it’s where they take shape. I’d like to be there to help mold them into well-rounded adults.”
“I bet…” he winks, “you’re the hot teacher all the boys fantasize about.”
I giggle. “Stop.” I slap his arm with my hand and he smiles. It’s a handsome smile. I love his smile.
And once again, I’m turned on, but that’s probably because I’m drunk. I push the wanton feelings away, trying to will my mind to focus on the conversation. We both continue talking well into the night about our passions and our hopes.
“It sounds like you will be taking on a lot of responsibility when your mom steps down.”
“Da.”
“Is that why you have those two bodyguards?”
“Da, they are family.”
“You’re related to them?”
“Cousins.”
“Will they always be with you from this point on?”
“My business is not always easy.”
“You mean dangerous.”
“Something like that.”
Even though he avoids some of the tough questions, talking to Maxim is easy, although trying to keep my mind out of the gutter proves quite difficult. Finally, after a long while he says goodnight. He is either serious about us not sleeping with each other anymore or he was respecting the fact that I’m still a little drunk and shouldn’t be making any serious decisions...like fucking him.
It was nice spending the evening with him without the sex, but it only reinforces what I already know. This can get even worse before it gets better. He could actually break my heart. Correction, he is already breaking my heart.
I know what I have to do. It’ll be hard. But the only thing that can heal a broken heart is time. And if it takes all the time in the world, until my last breath, then I will wait that long. Because he and I can never be together. Ever. And the sooner I get it in the past, the sooner my heart can begin to heal. The sooner I can live and breathe again. Because right now, without him, I can’t do either of those things. Even though I really don’t want to do those things without him. Make sense? I’m still a little drunk. So maybe, in my own fucked-upedness, it doesn’t. I just wish it did. I wish this could be easier.
One thing is certain, I can never be around them again. I can never see Maxim again. I just can’t. Not until enough time has passed where I no longer care, but I don’t think there’s enough time in the world for that to happen. Please God, let this be easier. Tasha has always been the lucky one. There’s no denying that fact. I would do anything to be in her shoes. To have the love of Maxim everyday. To be in his life everyday.