Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(123)

I nod. It’s really nice hearing that from the guy I’m with. So I inhale and try to relax more.

His right hand warms my cheek. Our eyes flit to each other’s lips. Now I kind of want him to kiss me. And not because of Robby.

Luka whispers, “I can play into his joke just to shut him up.”

I nod stronger.

He inches closer and kisses me full-force, my lips sting, and his hand dives to the small of my back. My skin heats like electricity zipping down my neck, breasts, hips, and lower…I pulse, beginning to throb.

Luka smiles, his tongue tangling with mine as we draw even nearer. His body thrums against my body, and he cups my ass.

I start laughing for no reason.

Robby cat-calls us with a whistle and drifts away.

Luka wraps his arms around my shoulders, laughing too. “You know I’m going to grab your ass more often now.”

Luka Kotova likes hearing me laugh. “You’re too much.” I control my laugh and make a grave face.

He mimics my expression. “You always say that. Too much of what?”

“Everything,” I say seriously.

“Evidence?”

“I could spend hours detailing why, but not while I stare at you.” While he makes me smile.

Luka playfully turns his back to me, and then checks me out over his shoulder. “What about now?”

I shake my head, almost about to burst into another laugh, and he’s made me forget all about the sadness surrounding Infini. For a moment at least. My eyes suddenly well, and I can’t describe the source of my emotion.

It just surges.

He spins back, noticing. “Come here, Bay.” His voice is tender, and he brings me into another warm hug. I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Date night!” someone shouts.

I suddenly gape at Luka.

“Date night!” That’s a Kotova, jeering at us about our date night later.

I eye Luka. “You told who?”

He kisses my lips, my temple, my cheek, and he whispers, “Everyone.”

I wear a more heartfelt smile, swooning at him. We sway now like we’re slow-dancing. “Because you can,” I realize.

He nods, a powerful, assured nod. “Because we can.” We can tell the whole world we’re in a serious relationship. I inhale a freeing breath, and that’s when Sergei approaches, an envelope in hand.

Sergei opens his mouth, but an old female AE doc calls Luka over, “I need to do a short examination on you, Luka.”

“I had a physical last month,” Luka says while we separate. I tighten my towel around my chest, and Luka fits his baseball cap over his tousled hair, hiding his gaze from Sergei.

“It’s a follow-up to that one. Just step over here.” She ties her wispy gray locks back, and Sergei and I watch her lead Luka to the medicine cabinet.

I put my towel to my lips, nervous.

Early this morning, he stole a coffee canister from the grocery store. He helped me put away my veggie kits and protein bars—and I had to ask, “How bad is it?” We were both grabbing the refrigerator handle, frozen.

He knew I was referring to his kleptomania. “What kind of scale do you want?” he asked.

“One being you…”

“…have no desire to steal,” he helped me out. “Ten I can’t stop thinking about it?”

I nodded.

Luka contemplated for a second. “Maybe a six, six-point-five. It’s like…about as bad as when I was…” He winces through his teeth, trying to find an age. “Eight-years-old?”

“I didn’t know you then.”

He smiles. “No kidding.”

I tried not to smile back, but it was hard. “The other thing is worse right now though, isn’t it?” I meant his bulimia, but he hates the clinical names, so I always avoid them in conversation.

“Yeah, it’s not good.” Luka sighed deeply and spun his Knicks hat backwards. “I’m trying to get ahold of it. I’ve just felt out of control lately.” He chewed his bottom lip once in thought and nodded, coming to terms with that. “You sad?” he asked.

I made a so-so motion with my hand, and then we hugged, our hands dropping from the refrigerator, the door thudding shut.

My cheek to his chest, I asked, “Therapy?” I wondered if he was going.

“I never found a therapist in Vegas.”

“You never tried?”

He shook his head, blinking a couple times. “No. I don’t know, maybe I should.” He used to go when he was little, and he returned in New York around when I first met him, on-and-off. AE used to pay a portion, but Luka mentioned that his health insurance didn’t cover it anymore.

Sometimes it’s easy to use money as a reason not to go, but therapy helps us both a lot.

I nudged him lightly and said, “You should try.”

“…I’ll think about it.”

I replay our talk in my head as the female doctor nears Luka.

“Can you open your mouth, please?” she asks him.

He looks nonchalant as he lowers his jaw, mouth wide. She peers down his throat with a medical instrument and light.

“You’re worried about him?” Sergei asks me.

I frown. “Yeah, he’s my…” God, I’m smiling already. “Boyfriend.” It’s overwhelming being able to say that.