Natasha
NatashaI come inside from sunbathing on the deck in the late afternoon and head up the stairs.
Dima’s been a d**k all day—he’s back to snarls and not speaking to me. I can’t figure out what’s going on, and I’m sick of the whiplash I’m getting from this guy.
Honestly, his being mean again makes it easier.
We were getting too close. Heartbreakingly close. I could really fall for this guy.
Who am I kidding? I have fallen for him. And as much as I love how comfortable we are together—this friendship thing—I want the full package. And I’ve been clinging to the hope that with a little patience, he’ll realize he wants it, too.
haveBut the closer we get, the more melancholy it seems to make him. His fingers are always on that little ring— twisting it around his pinky with an ocean of
