My apartment is on the third floor, and there's no elevator. However, my suitcase did not seem heavy at all for the robust, trained hands of Polianskyi. He easily delivers it to the required floor and doesn't even pant after the climb.
He puts the key in and enters first. Turns on the light and scans the room attentively to make sure everything is okay.
" You're like a nanny, honestly, " I tease as I walk by and flutter my eyelashes mischievously.
" I've already learned that a lapse in vigilance can be costly, so it's better to be overcautious, " he says emphatically. " In any case.
That he cares about my safety warms my soul and touches some tender, invisible chords. While I surveyed the apartment, the food had arrived.
I admit, "it's so odd. Me, in an informal setting… and him. I feel my senses sharpen with this realization.
I enter the living room. My boss, leaning over a low coffee table, is arranging paper boxes with noodles and salads. He’s already taken off his jacket. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, baring his strong arms.
" Mmm, smells delicious, " I can't help myself. " I’m starving.
He turns his head and looks at me with a gaze as hungry as mine was just a second ago.
" Tell me about it, " his sly smile only confirms my thoughts, but I pretend not to understand and sit down on a soft chair.
He cunningly watches, noting my choice of seat, and then begins to laugh. But he does not comment. Only sits down opposite me on the couch and unpacks the chopsticks. I exhale and try to ignore the obvious discomfort from the situation, his proximity, and what it makes me feel.
We talk about neutral topics, and I constantly try to look anywhere, mainly into my paper box, just to avoid gazing at those sensual lips and how sexily he eats his noodles.
"God, Milana. You've completely lost it, girl!" an inner voice barks, but a question from Andriy, with his look of expectation, helps me snap out of it.
" Um, what? " I blink and emerge from my turbulent fantasies where he, with those lips... Oh crap!!!
" I suggested we meet tomorrow so I can brief you and you can start work with the needed knowledge.
" Oh, yes, absolutely, " I replied quickly, encountering his narrowed gaze.
"Tired?" he asks, obviously referring to my hesitation. I exhale.
" Yeah, the packing, the flight, all of it, " I gesture too emphatically with my hand.
He puts down the chopsticks and wipes his hands with a napkin, then leans back on the couch. And I get goosebumps. His thoughtful blue eyes linger, and I completely forget about the food. The chopsticks with the clutching noodles hang suspended over the paper box.
Suddenly catching myself, I put it all down on the table. Annoyed, I rub my neck with a silent hint that the day had been rough and I should go to sleep now. But the words are hard to find. Because suddenly treacherous and cunning thoughts sneak into my head, swirling with unanswered questions: "What if he stayed now... What would it be like?"
Nervously, I lick my lips as moisture forms between my thighs. My body treacherously craves his touches, his caress. To feel what those lips and strong, wide arms could do.
I tear my eyes away from him and lower my gaze to my own hands, trying not to look where I shouldn’t. Meanwhile, Polianskyi gets up and starts clearing the boxes from the table. I snap out of it and stand up from my chair:
" Leave it. No need, I'll do it myself. You're tired as it is.
" It's no trouble, " he says casually, but I catch the tension in his voice. And the atmosphere between us suddenly becomes tense, the air almost sparking.
He helps me carry the dishes to the kitchen, then a phone rings, and Andriy steps into the hallway to answer. He smiles, pleasantly surprised by the call. I stay in the kitchen. I don't want him to think that I am eavesdropping on who he is talking to. Though I hear bits and pieces of words, I understand that the caller is definitely a woman.
A strange and unexpected twinge of jealousy suddenly pricks near my heart.
“Calm down, girl. He promised you nothing," the inner voice rationally whispers, and a sneering little devil adds: "But you don’t think he's a monk, do you? He's screwing someone."
Damn. I don't like these conclusions, even though I understand that they are quite logical and, ultimately, nothing strange. Polianskyi is a handsome man. Broad-shouldered, tall, well-built. Sharp, correct facial features, piercing gaze of turquoise eyes, not to mention the full sensual lips with that enticing mole above the top left corner… Hell. Enough. What do I care who he sleeps with?!
I can’t finish the thought as his dark-blond head appears in the doorway:
" Thanks for the company and for dinner, beautiful. I'll be going now.
I painfully bite the inside of my cheek to avoid asking "Where to?". More precisely, "To whom?". Instead, I rather coldly throw in:
" Sure.
He catches my mood change. The blue eyes narrowed, observing closely. But I don’t care. I've already retreated into a hard shell. Closed off from feelings. Only managing to swallow, I continue:
" I’ll see you out.
The hint couldn't be clearer. Polianskyi silently ponders something, returns to the living room, and picks up his jacket. He puts on his shoes and opens the front door. Turns his head to me, and I feel a lump in my throat.
" I'll pick you up at three tomorrow. Goodnight, Milana.
I can only nod. The boss exits and closes the door behind him. And I bite my lip. "Damn it, I will not cry over him now. Why would I?" I think in anger and head to the bedroom.
I try to fill the rest of the evening with monotonous tasks. First, I unpack my suitcase, neatly arrange, and hang up my clothes. Those that need to be ironed, I iron. Then, I arrange my makeup in the bathroom and take a shower. Still, it’s impossible to completely throw him out of my head.
Persistent thoughts - "Who is he with now? Whose skilled hands are caressing him and whose seductive lips are kissing?" - prevent me from falling asleep. I no longer pretend or lie to myself, "I am jealous. And this feeling is unbearable. Because of it, I monitor his Messenger until nearly half past midnight. But the 'offline' icon annoys the hell out of me.
Though that was only the start, because when around two in the morning it changed to "online," I almost jumped out of bed from anger.