Strong Enough

“Because it’s fucking far?” said Gage, reaching for his drink.

“It is far,” said Maxim with a smile, “but I think our cultural differences can make it hard to understand each other, even when people are in the same place. I was telling Derek earlier that Russians have a reputation for being cold, but we’re not. Not really. We just express ourselves in a more modest way. And even when we’re curious about someone or something, we don’t ask personal questions because we don’t want to be rude.”

“And in America, that would seem like indifference,” said Ellen. “Maybe even rudeness, like you didn’t care enough to ask or smile at someone.”

“Yes.” Maxim nodded. “I think it’s just a part of an eastern culture where people are more submerged in their own world than tuned in to what happens around them. If you take a subway somewhere in Moscow, for example, you won’t see too many smiling people. Everybody is thinking their own thoughts, and their faces don’t react to you. But if you get to meet them, you’ll find they’re actually very nice. In fact, if you go to a Russian house for dinner or something, you’d be surprised to find how welcoming and generous the hosts are.”

“I have to admit, I always picture Russia as being cold but exotic. Women in fur coats, dripping with diamonds and eating caviar.” Carolyn giggled. “But that’s probably from the movies too.”

“There are wealthy people in Russia, but it’s also very common for those who had a poor childhood to really like nice things, luxury things.” Maxim shrugged. “Lots of people never had new clothes or toys. Sometimes food was scarce. When you grow up this way, you don’t want to feel like that again. It’s my story, too.”

“I get that,” Lanie said.

He had a poor childhood, I thought, hungry for any personal details about him. I wondered how poor. Did he grow up impoverished? Hungry? Lacking for anything?

“We also like to impress,” he went on, a glint in his eye. “This is why some Russians drive luxurious cars while living in a tiny apartment, or wear designer brands or go to expensive restaurants—because they didn’t have a taste of it before and they want to show it’s different now.”

“Speaking of taste, my old roommate dated a Russian girl,” said Gage. “She used to bring us all these amazing leftovers from her family functions. And she’d come over and make these potato pancakes…” He closed his eyes and moaned. “So good.”

“They are good.” Maxim nodded. “I make those sometimes.”

“You can cook?” Ellen asked.

“A little. My mom worked a lot, so I had to help out with meals growing up. She taught me to make some things.” He caught my eye and grinned. “But nothing like Derek. I told him he must have been a chef in a past life.”

“Yes!” Ellen exclaimed. “He definitely got all the cooking skills in the family. I can barely boil water.”

“Dinner is excellent, Derek.” Carolyn touched my arm. “Thank you for inviting me.”

I put my hand over hers. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re here.” For all the wrong reasons, of course, but I was still glad.

“Maxim, your English is so good,” Lanie praised. “I teach high school, and I’ve got students who’ve lived here their entire lives and don’t speak it as well as you.”

“Thank you.” Maxim lowered his chin as if he were embarrassed by the compliment, and even from all the way across the table I could see how long his eyelashes were.

What the fuck? His eyelashes?

Get a grip on yourself.

But I couldn’t, so instead, I gripped Carolyn’s hand and held it in my lap. She sent me a surprised smile, and I returned it, but my pulse didn’t quicken the way it should have with her hand so close to my crotch.

“I still can’t believe your bag was stolen at my bar,” said Ellen. She’d told the story of Maxim’s first night in America with great dramatic flair during drinks on the patio, including plenty of nonsensical rhapsodizing about fate, as if it hadn’t been a random cab driver’s suggestion that had brought him into the bar. “I feel so bad about it.”

“Don’t,” Maxim said. “Everything turned out fine. Better than fine. I made new friends.”

“Good thing you were home when Ellen called you, Derek.” Carolyn squeezed my hand. “Now I’m glad I didn’t keep you out too late.”

“I figured he’d be home, since he goes to the gym so early Saturday mornings.” Ellen’s eyes glittered with mischief. “And we all know Derek does not miss a Saturday morning at the gym.”

“Heaven forbid he get off schedule.” Lanie clutched her heart.

“Or leave the garage door open,” added Gage.

“Or dishes in the sink.” Ellen loved this game.

“Or eat in his car.”

“Or wear shoes in the house.”

“Or let dust bunnies form under the beds.”

“Enough,” I muttered, feeling my neck get hot under my collar.

“You really lucked out, Maxim. Hotel Derek is nicer, cleaner, and has better food than any place in L.A,” Lanie said.

“All true. But it wasn’t luck,” Ellen insisted, her expression smug.

“I believe it was more than luck, too.” Maxim met my eyes, and I saw it—the wanting. I saw it. Something in me splintered. “I believe some things are meant to be.”

Fuck.

I kept drinking. With every swallow, I tried to numb the feelings that not only refused to stay buried but insisted on growing as the night wore on. It was as if seeing the desire in his eyes had unlocked the prison where I’d kept mine. I stole furtive looks at him, noticing small details I’d missed before—the length of his fingers, the fullness of his mouth, the veins on the backs of his hands. They reminded me of the veins I’d seen on his abdomen last night, the ones that snaked beneath the waistband of his pants.

I wanted to trace them with my tongue.

Somehow I got through coffee—mine was spiked—and dessert, although I didn’t touch the chocolate cake Carolyn had brought. I had no appetite for anything but him.

Gage and Lanie left first, saying they had to get their sitter home by eleven. I hugged Lanie and shook Gage’s hand, promising to see him later this week for a beer. Ellen helped Maxim bring all the dishes into the kitchen before she left, hugging all three of us and telling Maxim she’d call tomorrow about working at the bar.

“That would be amazing,” he said. “I’ll do whatever you need. Can I walk you to your car?”

“Sure. Bye, you guys!” She blew me a kiss and swept out of the room with Maxim on her heels.