“Sorry,” he continues, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll just—”
“Leave the supplies here and f**k off somewhere else,” Timofey finishes for him.
I can’t find any words. They’ve evaporated in the sudden heat coursing through my body, a heat that has absolutely nothing to do with the bonfire I created and everything to do with the man standing in front of me.
Akim drops everything on the island, as ordered, but he’s stealing glances at us all the while, which I’m pretty sure Timofey is not so fond of.
I want to shove Timofey away, but he isn’t in any hurry to extricate himself from me. He slides his hand out of my hair and lets it fall on my good shoulder. He nudges me back towards the sink. “Your arm isn’t in the water anymore.”
He’s right. My arm
