Chapter 36 Chapter 36 Dinner
I let my sister and Gabby take me to Varna for a few days to enjoy the Black Sea. It was her way of apologizing for bringing something painful up in front of a stranger. When I came back, Ivan was not here. I took a shower and headed to the market. I have been feeling awfully nostalgic, so I want to cook. After picking up all the ingredients from the market and the butcher, I took the elevator up to the tenth floor.
I set up everything I need on the kitchen island and went to change. My grandmother had a beautiful wraparound dress made for me. It still fits, so I put it on. It’s a white, thin-strap dress, the material sheer and silky, with pink roses on it.
Music on, I start to roll the tiny meatballs while the soup stock simmers. I drop the meatballs in, and after fifteen minutes I add the soup noodles. I sit and stir as I sway to the music. The last time we did this, it was me, my grandma, and my aunt. We danced around as we cooked. I was twelve years old, and I can’t believe this dress still fits. It’s just a little tight—my boobs are bigger, and I am slightly taller.
The last thing to go in is the parsley. I have two bunches; I tear the leaves off the stems, chop them twice, drop them into the soup, and stir again. I spin a few times and slam into a wall of a man.
"I didn’t hear you come in!" I say, holding onto his suit jacket.
"I didn’t know you came back!" he says, prying my hands away from him.
"Do you want some? It’s almost done!" I continue to spin around.
"What are you doing?" he chuckles softly.
"Making the last thing I made with my grandmother in this same kitchen!" Saying it out loud makes my sadness bubble up. "Here, try it. Does it need more salt?" I ask, bringing a spoonful to his lips after blowing on it.
Ivan takes my hand and tries the soup, then opens his mouth because it’s too hot.
"I am sorry!" I grab his chin and bring his open mouth toward me, blowing cool air inside it.
Then I realize my mistake. My mother and grandmother used to do that when I was a kid, every time I burned my mouth. Ivan closes his mouth and starts to laugh.
"What the hell, Elle??? No one has done that to me since I was ten!" Ivan bursts into a deep belly laugh, and damn him, he looks even better laughing.
A few more slightly awkward moments later, we sit at the dining room table with a bowl each. I pull my hair into a bun so none of it falls into the soup.
"Put your hair down, please."
"Do you have a thing for necks?" I laugh.
"No, I have a thing for you."
The butterflies slam around inside my rib cage again, thrashing to escape. I can feel him staring at me, but I can’t look up to meet his eyes. Fuck me. I like his annoying ass, and this is turning stupid. I am going home after my birthday. I have been down this road before—this all feels too domestic, and nope, don’t go there. I shake those thoughts out of my head.
My phone vibrates again. I silence it. Then again. Then again—buzzing and buzzing on the table.
Ivan swipes my phone away and answers it. "You better have a good reason for interrupting dinner!"
I don’t even know who he is talking to.
"She is busy blowing my soup!"
"Ivan!!!" I protest, but laugh.
"I don’t care who the fuck you are! She is with me!" He pulls the phone away from his ear. "Do you want to talk to your ex?"
"Which one?" I laugh, because, well, there are so many of them.
"Sergey!" he says in a serious tone.
"NOPE!" I say it loud enough for him to hear.
"The lady spoke! If you don’t mind, I am going to go back to eating because she spent a lot of time making dinner! Have a good night!" He hangs up and slides the phone back to me.
"Thank you!"
"What are you wearing?" he asks, quickly changing the subject.
"My grandmother had it made for me. I can’t believe it still fits. Is it an ugly color?" I ask sarcastically.
"No, it’s beautiful—but it does not fit anymore," he smirks.
"It covers enough!"
Silence… then my phone goes off again.
"It’s not going to feel real to him until you post some pictures." He grabs my phone and sits next to me on the bench.
I am suddenly in his lap, his arms around me. My heart is beating out of my chest. I don’t even care that he is doing this just to touch me.
"Do your worst!"
I take a few pictures of us, and then he turns my head, his lips brushing mine. I let go, and we are kissing. He reaches for my phone and hits the button. His tongue slips into my mouth, his big hand cupping my face. My hand moves to his face—his skin is so soft—then lower to his neck, running my fingers over his tattoos. His hand grabs mine, stopping me from going lower. I am so caught up in the moment, the room spinning.
He asks me to go for a ride with him. We take more pictures in the car—no more kissing, but just as charged. His bare forearm rests over my thighs, his cold watch sending goosebumps across my skin. Ivan holds my hand, his hand resting between my thighs. I am so damn lit up—he could get me to do anything he wants. I wouldn’t say no, and that is dangerous.
He parks the car in the lot for the apartment building. His hand still in mine, he brings it to his lips.
"Do you still want to chew your arm off?"
"I thought we already established—that was bullshit!"
"Fuck! Your cousin is going to kill me!" He lets go of my hand so fast, like I burned him. "Go upstairs and lock your bedroom door. I… I am going to drive around some more."
"Maybe he shouldn’t have stuck us in the same apartment!"
"His mistake was trusting me with you!"