Me
One of those you call boring. Sorry I’m not up to your level.
Lan
Little bro, I’m telling you for the millionth time that you are up to my level if you quit restraining yourself. You used to make masterpieces without a single thought, but now that you’re THINKING instead of CREATING, it’s a fucking chore to see your work. But then again, no one listens to Lan, even though he’s always right.
The door bangs against the wall and I lift my head to see Nikolai walking in, entirely naked while drying his hair with a towel.
I place my phone on the side table and release an exasperated sigh. “You couldn’t put clothes on?”
“Clothes are overrated. People should thank me for wearing them in public.” He tilts his head to the side. “Besides, we’ve already seen each other naked, so maybe you’re the one who should strip.”
“No, thanks.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Worth a try.”
I reach into the wardrobe’s drawer and toss him a pair of boxer briefs. “At least put those on.”
“Fine.” He throws the towel on the bed and mutters, “Prude.”
“I heard that and, seriously, hang up your towels, Nikolai.”
He rolls his eyes as he slides the boxer briefs up his muscular thighs and snaps the elastic band with a playful tug.
I drape the towel on a clothes hanger. “Can I ask you something?”
“Why do you need to request permission to ask me something?”
“It’s the polite thing to do.”
“Don’t do that with me. I don’t ask permission when I bombard you with questions.”
“You don’t say.”
“Hey! Was that sarcasm? The infamous passive-aggressiveness?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He chuckles, the sound smooth and so joyful, I can’t help the smile that twitches my lips.
“Ask away, baby.”
“Why do you sleep in weird places?”
“I don’t like beds.” He sits on it. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep in one, I just can’t.”
“Is it because of something that happened?”
“Hmm.” He shakes his head, sending droplets of water everywhere.
“Nikolai!”
“What?”
“Dry your hair.”
“Why? It’ll dry on its own.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and point at the stool in front of the vanity. “Sit down.”
He jumps up and plops down on the seat and grins at me through the mirror as I turn on the hairdryer on the lowest setting, medium heat, and start drying his hair.
“So?” I ask, not meeting his gaze. “You were going to tell me if sleeping in strange positions has to do with a certain incident.”
“Oh! Sorry, I got distracted by how fucking hot you look with your hair messy.”
“Nikolai, focus.”
He releases a sigh. “I started sleeping this way in my teens. It was around the time my episodes began.”
My fingers pause in his hair. “What type of episodes?”
“High energy. Racing thoughts. Uncontainable need for more, more, and fucking more. I had it that day when I fought Kill and beat him to a pulp while you were flirting with Eva.”
“Her name is Ava and I was not flirting with her.” My mind goes back to that time, to when his eyes were red and he looked to be on edge. So I was right to think something was wrong. His gaze was empty and for a moment, I thought he didn’t see me.
“She was hugging you.”
“We’re childhood friends.”
“Still don’t like it.” He pouts like a fucking child and I have to stop myself from smiling at how adorable he looks. Jesus. He’s this big tattooed guy who’s larger than life and part of the mafia, but he still acts this way.
Around me.
Only me.
I glide my fingers through his hair, lingering in every spot a bit too long. “Back to the subject at hand, do those episodes happen often?”
“Not really. I have them under control.”
“You didn’t look that much in control that day.”
“That was because you were being an asshole.”
“Me? What do I have to do with it?”
He strokes his necklace. “Nothing.”
I want to probe some more, but he meets my gaze in the mirror. “Oh, right. I wanted to ask you something as well.”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you not like sex?”