"I don't think I've ever seen you drive," I suddenly realise.
We're in Dimitri's car, en route to last night's venue where my own car is parked. After a diverting morning I was forced to wear the same clothes I arrived in, but luckily I always keep an extra set of backstage blacks in my car.
Dimitri frowns slightly, concentrating on the car in front of him. "Yeah," he says absently. "That would make sense. The studio prefers to arrange my transport for shows or anything specifically scheduled."
I nod.
This seems to be another space that he's completely relaxed, and I add it to my mental catalogue. Every new thing I learn about him, every new situation I can observe him in gets filed away in my mind, like I'm a dragon filling up my cave.
"You enjoy it," I observe. "You don't get to drive often?"
He cracks a grin. "Not as often as I'd like, no. And why do I get the feeling I'm a specimen being examined?"
I laugh. "A fine specimen at that."
"Why thank you. And the verdict?"
"Hmm?"
A sly glance at me, then his eyes flick back to the road ahead. "What's the result of the study?"
"Oh," I smile, feeling my cheeks heat. "I just like watching you enjoy yourself."
He lets loose an easy laugh, reaching over to grab my hand. Then, ever so gently, he presses a kiss to it. It's so sweet that I feel my heart swell in my chest.
"You know," he says, "I thought that might be the case. At least it's what I gathered from the kitchen this morning."
I can't help myself, I feel a self-congratulatory grin break out across my face. But I decide it will be much more fun to tease him, so I raise an eyebrow and play dumb.
"Oh? What happened this morning?"
"Not quite as much as I'd have liked," he retorts with a sideways glance that informs me he knows exactly what I'm doing. "And I want to make sure you know that I'll pay you back."
I shift a little in my seat. "I look forward to the full show I was promised."
A slow inhale, then: "Unless you want me to pull over, we're going to have to change the topic."
I bite back a smile. "I'm sure we can pick it up again later."
Another sideways glance leaves me slightly breathless, paired with the equally effective response of, "That's a guarantee."
It takes me a moment to recover my senses, and from the smug look I can see on Dimitri's face, he's all too aware of the effect he has on me.
"So...what do you want to talk about?" I ask.
His smile falters. "What happened with Tasha?"
I wince. "Oh. That."
He nods, as though my response confirms something, but otherwise stays quiet waiting for me to answer the question.
Well, I may as well get right into it. I take a breath.
"She was waiting outside my building when I got back from a run. It was the morning after, uh, we didn't kiss."
Dimitri barks a laugh, breaking the tension.
"What?" I ask. I was worried I'd have offended him.
"That's the descriptor you decided to assign?" he chuckles. "After everything that happened that night-the first time I've shared my bread with an American by the way- it gets named The Night We Didn't Kiss?"
"Well," I shrug, suddenly a little shy. "Not that I'm not honoured by the bread. But after hearing you talk about your family and everything, not getting to kiss you was the biggest part of the night for me."
God I sound so lame.
"I'm sorry," he says earnestly. "I hope I've since made up for the disappointment?"
I can't help grinning at him. "It's a start. But we'll have to see how it goes from here."
His laughter fills the car, and it's such a beautiful sound. I'm struck with the odd thought that I could listen to him laugh forever, and never get bored.
"I'm sorry," he says after a minute, "I derailed you. So Tasha was outside your building."
"Yeah, I don't even know how she knew my address," I muse. "Anyway, we went to the cafe across the street, she was trying to be all friendly and then..."
I trail off. I can't believe I'm about to have to tell him this.
"She said I was distracting you, implied that you were hesitant to go on tour because of me. Then she told me to name my price, in money or whatever I wanted, if I would agree to disappear and never speak to you again." It all comes out in a rush, as though if I say it fast enough, it won't hurt him as much.
Dimitri remains quiet. Finally I muster the courage to look over at his face. And what I see... he doesn't even look surprised. He looks like he's thinking, but he doesn't seem to be hurt at all.
"I guess that makes sense," he says eventually. "I've had a few friends randomly vanish one day."
I blink in shock, imagining the type of shallow or desperate person that would put material possessions above the incredible man sitting next to me. The thought makes me so sad.
His eyes flick between my face and the road. I see the venue approaching up ahead.
"You weren't tempted?" he asks softly.
Indignation rises in my throat. "Are you seriously asking me that? I left her sitting there, I didn't even let her pay for my coffee! I would never do that to you!"
"No," he breathes, "I don't think you would."
My pulse is still a little fast; I'm still confused by his reaction and I'm irritated by his question.
"Anyway," I huff. "That's why I don't like her."
Dimitri nods, keeping his eyes on the road as he takes the turn into the venue. I can tell by the way his thumb traces circles on the steering wheel that his mind is far away.
"I know how she comes across," he says carefully, "but she's a good manager. She'll put my career before anything."
"Even your happiness?"
He gives me a weak smile. "That's showbiz baby."
He pulls into the lot and parks flawlessly next to my car. I can't believe what I'm hearing.
"It's not just your career she cares about," I say evenly.
He turns to me with a knowing look. "Roza, if I wasted time worrying about every person who wants to fuck me, I'd lose hours every day."
He's trying to joke, to make me laugh. But it's just making me feel a little sick. I climb out the car and grab my keys from my pocket.
He comes over to stand by my side as I unlock my car and yank open the back door.
"I'm my own brand, Rose. Sex sells and all that. I need to look good to make money."
I reach in to retrieve the backpack that contains my spare clothes. It's squashed underneath the mixing desk that I'd forgotten about, and I make a mental note to text Gerry's contact.
"You're more than that," I say simply as I reemerge.
I tug open the zipper and grab the spare shirt. Gently, Dimitri places a hand under my chin. His fingers on my jaw coax me to look at him. Those beautiful brown eyes are looking down at me with a resigned kind of smile.
"Maybe I'm more than that to you," he says. "But to Tash and to a lot of other people, I'm something pretty to look at. And you know that's how this works."
I briefly close my eyes. Sadly, I know he's right. But I can't help this feeling of wanting to protect him from that, of wanting more for him.
"Anyway," I say after a beat, trying to suppress the wave of sadness that swells in my chest at the thought of leaving. "I should get changed and return these, and I still need to contact the mixing desk guy. Thank you for everything."
His lip quirks. "Am I not allowed to come with?"
"Huh?"
"We can drop the equipment at the store together, then maybe grab some breakfast while we wait for Mixing Desk Guy to respond," he suggests. "I never got to sign anything for that owner's daughter anyway, maybe she'd want a picture."
A smile spreads across my face. "Sounds a little bit like a date, Belikov."
His smile echoes mine. "Imagine that. So what do you say?"
A choice where I don't have to say goodbye to him isn't really much of a choice at all.
"Yes please. I'm just going to get changed quick."
"Excellent. I'll just be over here, I need to call someone to come pick up my car."
He deliberately turns his back to give me some privacy, which is absolutely adorable. I peel myself out of my clothes and feel a lot better to have clean fabric against my skin, even if it does smell a little bit like canvas. I fire off a text to the number Gerry gave me, and in a few more minutes we're both in the car and I start the engine.
And of course, my music picks right back up where it left off. Which happens to be on one of Dimitri's songs. Playing at an incredibly obnoxious volume.
I instantly go bright red, and I reach to turn it off. But Dimitri intercepts me, holding my wrist with those long fingers. He's got a shit-eating grin on his face.
"I thought you only listened to my old stuff," he yells over the music. "You said you used to be a fan. As in past tense."
I aim for a quietly dignified expression as I turn the volume down with thehand he isn't keeping captive.
"Well if you just look at the name of the playlist..." I instruct him. He releases my wrist and I start the car.
"Guilty pleasure feel good," Dimitri reads from the scrolling text. "Ouch."
"You really should keep that ego on check, Comrade."
"How can I when I'm in the company of such a beautiful woman?"
I roll my eyes, but of course it makes me smile anyway. I pull out of the lot.
Dimitri's hand is resting easily on my knee as I drive. Maybe that's why I'm finding it harder to concentrate on the road in front of me. But my mind is also dwelling on the incredible fact that he wants to spend time with me too. And I'm wondering if maybe he also feels the looming uncertainty, and the resulting need to absorb as much of the other's company as humanly possible. As happy as it makes me just to be near him, I know that somewhere out there, our clock is slowly counting down the hours to midnight, when we'll both have to return to reality.
Author's Note
Thank you so much for reading, and for waiting on this update. As much as I'd hoped to stick to a post schedule, life had other ideas. So if you're enjoying this fic, it's probably a good idea to follow and favourite in order to keep in the loop when I post. Please also feel free to leave a review, I love hearing your thoughts and they never fail to make me smile.
On the plus side, I have a pretty good idea on where to take the story next, so hopefully it won't be too long until the next update. I cannot believe how this fic has grown a life of its own, starting out from what was supposed to be a oneshot.
The VA universe and the characters therein are the sole intellectual property of Richelle Mead.