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Khoroshaya devochka. I freeze at the explicit vision that fills my head. Did I just call her “good girl” in Russian?
“What can I say?” He wets his lips, and I’m captivated. “I’m a softy for my girls.”
A slow smile creeps on my face. “I think I’m going to keep you, Sunny Edwards.” Her quiet laugh is music to my ears. “Oh, yeah? For how long?” I grab her hand and interlace our fingers. “For forever.”
“I know why you’re really here,” I say into his ear, mid-tug. “And I’m going to teach you a fucking lesson on how to treat a woman.” He tries to hit me first, but I skate backward just in time to land a punch on his jaw before the rest of the team moves toward us. “Not just any woman.” I grab him around the neck. “But mine.”
“Tell me you trust me enough to keep you safe,” he pleads. “Tell me that I’m deserving of your heart.” His hands tighten against my face, and I can’t speak. “Tell me you love me too. Please.”
“Zhena,” I mutter the word wife in Russian when she turns back around to watch the movie. Before she relaxes back against me, I hear her faint whisper. “Muzh.” Husband. My chest swells. Sunny Volkova, I think to myself. What a perfect name.
