Page 132 of Cruel Juliet

51

SIMA

When I come back down to earth, Petyr’s hand is at my back, heavy and warm. He rubs circles into it, and I melt. Literally liquefy on his firm chest and even firmer shoulders.

Our breaths slow, uneven at first, then matching. My brain hasn’t caught up yet. Hasn’t quite come back down to earth with the rest of me.

I can still feel my pulse in my throat.

He looks up at me. A crooked smirk is tugging at his mouth. “You always find a way to distract me.”

“I’d say you looked like you needed it,” I grin back. “You were two minutes away from trying to strangle those spreadsheets. Or whatever they are.”

“Would’ve deserved it.”

I roll my eyes, and he wraps his arm around me and pulls me closer. My cheek finds his chest. He smells like whiskey and long hours, with just a hint of cedarwood. I can’t get enough of it.

When it comes to Petyr, I can never get enough.

For a while, we just sit there. The only sound is the faint hum of nature outside and the soft thump of Petyr’s heart under my ear. Steady, like nothing ever rattles him. Meanwhile, I’m still caught between calm and chaos.

“I should thank you,” he says after a moment. “I needed that interruption.”

He moves his hand along my back. Slow, aimless. Like he’s here but still half in his work. I don’t begrudge him that—I’m also half elsewhere.

In the kitchen, for example. With Kira. Replaying everything she confessed to me in her moment of weakness over and over again.

Should I bring it up? With Petyr?

I’m not sure about that. For starters, it’s none of my business. This is Petyr’s house, his family. His brother’s wife. Who am I to butt in?

Petyr shifts under me. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I answer too fast.

His hand stills on my back. “You’ve got that look again.”

“What look?”

“The one that says you’re thinking about something you don’t want to tell me.”

He’s right, and that annoys me more than it should. I trace the edge of his collarbone with my finger. “Something happened today. Nothing bad,” I add quickly when I see his face tense. “Just odd. Thought maybe I could run it by you?”

“Of course you can.” Petyr’s brow lifts. “What is it?”

“I talked with Kira today.” He doesn’t say anything, just waits for me to go on. “About Dimitri.”

His eyes narrow a little. “What about him?”

“She said it’s been hard lately. He’s having bad days again.” Suddenly, I worry that I’m betraying her confidence by going to Petyr with this. But then I remember how frayed she looked today, crying at the kitchen table. “She tried to play it off, but she’s exhausted. And worried.”

Petyr’s hand starts tracing shapes into my back again. The sensation slowly melts my body back into a relaxed state. I didn’t even realize how much tension I was holding in my shoulders until Petyr kneaded it out of me.

“Worried?” he asks.

“Yeah.” I swallow. “She mentioned Dimitri coming home soon. And I think she’s happy about that, truly. But…”

I hesitate. Again. Because Petyr has always been protective about his brother. It’s great of him to be, but it’s also what almost broke us. I don’t want to step on his toes again about it—not if I can help it.