I’d barely gotten the words out when his eyes sliced in my direction.
But he didn’t ask why I thought that, and I was genuinely relieved. He was the last person I wanted to talk about. If not the last, then in the top three. Top four for sure.
“Anyone else on the list?” he asked after an awkward second while I’d been thinking about my dad.
“No.”
I didn’t miss the casual look he slipped me before mentioning, “I’ve won two gold medals.”
“You don’t say,” I muttered sarcastically, watching him continue to shift on my mattress until his right side faced me.
“Yeah,” he answered just as sarcastically. “Not one. Two. A few world championships too.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” I croaked, my throat demanding water, as he then began to scoot backward until his spine met up with the headboard, just like mine had.
Ivan kicked his legs into the air, toeing off one fancy black leather boot after another, letting each thump to ground. “Some people think I’m the best.”
“Who?” I snorted weakly as I watched him settle his legs onto the bed, crossing one ankle over the other, showing me the purple and pink striped socks he had on.
He angled his upper body just enough so he could watch me with both eyes, chin to his T-shirt-covered chest. “Lots of people.”
I gasped, immediately regretting it because it made my throat ache. “I mean… I guess you’re pretty cool too.”
Those ebony eyebrows went up. “You guess?”
“I guess. Your skating is pretty good. And you’ve been really nice to me today. Yesterday. I don’t even know what day it is,” I mumbled. “You can be on the list too, if you’re going to make it awkward.”
“Don’t sound so excited.”
I laughed, wincing as I did it, and eyed the long body beside mine, the fingers knit on his chest that had at some point been running through my hair while I’d been at my worst. And without thinking about it, I scooted closer to him, wanting the touching again, wanting affection, lining up our hips and making my legs rest against the sides of his even under the covers. I swallowed, knowing somewhere inside of me he wouldn’t tease me about wanting to be closer to him, and tipped my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder. We had been closer than this every hour of the day for the last two months. It didn’t mean anything, I told myself. It didn’t mean a single thing. And that’s what I was going to go with, regardless of the knowledge that I had never, ever done something like this with bitch-ass Paul.
“You are the best,” I told him, sounding about as weak as I felt, “at pairs skating.”
Something landed softly on my head as he snickered, and I figured he was resting his head or cheek on top of mine. “Thanks for making sure to clarify that.”
I laughed some more, the sting totally worth it. “You’ve been a good friend to me so far, but I really only have your sister to compare you to.”
“Hmm,” he sighed, shifting in his spot beside me, before slipping his arm over my shoulder unexpectedly. It wasn’t like I was going to complain. It was warm and heavy, and I liked the way it made me feel: cocooned. Safe. I liked it a lot. “That’s true.”
“She used to let me borrow her clothes before she grew eight inches and left me behind. But she can’t pick me up like you do.”
His laugh was soft as he agreed. “You’ve got a point, Meatball. I’m easier to look at though.”
I couldn’t help the snort that I instantly regretted. “You’re so annoying.”
“You keep saying that.”
I smiled against his shoulder and heard a huff of air that told me he was more than likely doing the same exact thing. “You don’t have to stay, you know.”
“I know. Your mom said your sister or brothers could come check on your grumpy ass until she gets back,” he let me know.
I made a face. “She calls Tali throwing saltine crackers and Gatorade into my room taking care of me. I’d rather be by myself.”
“No Gatorade and no saltine crackers. That’s the last thing you need,” he said. “Sugar and pointless carbs won’t do anything.”
Leave it to Ivan to judge every ounce of nutrition that went into my mouth.
“Now I definitely can’t leave you, if that’s what will happen if I do,” he whispered.
I snickered.
“I don’t mind staying a little while longer, but I need to go home later, at least for an hour.”
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered that he had to leave to go do something. Just like he had when he’d babysat Jessie and Benny with me, and just like when he’d eaten dinner at my mom’s. But I didn’t focus or question what and why he had to leave. I was too tired.
“You can go now if you want.”
“No, it’s only five, Meatball,” he replied. “I’ve got hours. It’s fine.”
“I’m sure you have better things to do.”
The arm over my shoulder went down, and Ivan’s hand went to my shoulder, cupping it before going up and down my upper arm, one stroke up, one stroke down. “Be quiet and go back to sleep, all right?”
Sleep? It sounded wonderful. Just fucking awesome.
Without arguing, I closed my eyes, and asked with an exhale after I got a whiff of the light cologne he wore every day without fail, “Do you do this for all your partners? Or just the ones you’re stuck with for a year?”
Beneath my cheek, his body tensed and stayed tense even as he answered. “Stop running your mouth and go back to sleep, would you?”
I moved my palm just enough so that it lay directly over the flat, solid slabs called his abs. I’d seen them a hundred times in glimpses here and there when he’d take off his sweater, or reach up to stretch or scratch his stomach… but I hadn’t touched them. Not once in more than brushes. But they were just as hard as they looked.
“You really don’t have to stay,” I repeated myself again as exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyes, trying to give him an opening.
He sighed, and I sensed him shaking his head. “Nobody else is going to take as good of care of you as I will.” He had a point, didn’t he? The faster I got better, the better it would be for him. For both of us.
If that was disappointment in my belly, I ignored it. It didn’t matter. He was here now, doing what nobody else would want to do.
“Before you fall asleep again, where’s your remote?” he asked.
Reaching behind me blindly, I grabbed the remote off the other nightstand and then dropped it on his stomach.
And I passed the fuck out.
Something warm touched my mouth later, and I’d swear I heard, “Drink it, baby,” whispered to me.
And I drank it all. Whatever the hell it was.
I woke up at one point, sensing my head on something hard, and peeked my eyes open enough to find that I had my head on a lap, my arm thrown over kneecaps. The television was on softly, and the comforter I’d crawled under had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed.
I was sweating. Hot. But somehow I managed to fall back asleep.
“Jasmine,” a familiar voice whispered into my ear, stroking my hair and then arm. “I need to go home.”
I felt like shit. All I could do was mutter, “Okay.”
Ivan’s familiar hand stroked my hair, my arm, my wrist, lingering there. “Your cell is right next to you. Your mom said someone would come check on you. Call me if you need anything though, all right?”
“Uh-huh,” was all I managed to get out before his fingers, or his hand, left my wrist.
“I’ll be here in the morning,” he said, something warm and damp touching my forehead so lightly and quickly, I thought I might have imagined it.
“Thanks,” I whispered in my one moment of clarity, my throat parched.
“I left you water on both nightstands. Drink up.”
Something else touched my forehead, and I sighed an, “Okay, Vanya.” Then, I rolled over and went back to sleep.
Chapter 15