Page 96 of Jump on Three

Perhaps, later, he could write everything down for me. I wanted to hold those words in my hand, to feel the indent of ink on paper. Then, maybe, they would be real to me. Then, maybe, they could replace weird girl.

“That isn’t even half of what I would have told my imaginary, decent father. I wish I had that.” He cupped the side of my face in his big, warm hand. “I would like to tell many people about you.”

“I don’t mind if you just tell me.”

He stroked my chin with his thumb. “I’m sorry I hurt you, angel.”

“I’m sorry you did too.” My lashes fluttered as I looked up at him. “Now I know you can.”

He sighed heavily, and I felt the weight. My chest still ached from the echoes of yesterday. It hadn’t gone away just because he’d told me he hadn’t meant it. I would love to be the kind of person who rolled with punches, but that wasn’t me. I was tender and sensitive, with a memory like a steel trap. Two years from now, this day could spring to mind at random, and I would remember the jab from the boy who’d called me weird even though he’d said a million wonderful things after.

“I promise I will be much more careful. At the time, I needed to get him away from you. That was all I was thinking.” His jaw rippled with tension. “And you, my smart, genius girl, speaking Russian all this time. I should have known to expect the unexpected from you.”

“Not all this time. I only started learning recently. I like learning new languages, and your accent is pretty, so I wanted to learn yours.”

He lowered his forehead to mine, rolling it back and forth. “You make me feel crazy things for you. I love that you are learning Russian. If you would like to practice with me, I would be honored and fucking thrilled.”

“Maybe. It may take me some time to be comfortable with that after…yesterday.”

“I’ll be here, Evelyn. I will give you what you need for you to believe I did not mean it.”

I couldn’t wait ’til that day.

Chapter Thirty-three

Evelyn

Ivan had not exaggerated. He was patient and present as I worked through my feelings. Of course, he sat with me in the dining hall. Walked me back to the dorm after I studied in room three. Sat next to me on the bus to a swim meet. Held my hand. Placed soft kisses on my lips.

It took me four days to come out of my cocoon of hurt feelings. When I did, it was a work night for Ivan, and I’d asked to come along.

He couldn’t exactly tell me no.

That was how I ended up in Marco’s office, eating french fries and listening to a sample from a new DJ while Ivan took care of something in another part of the club.

Marco turned the music down low. “What do you think?”

I waved a fry at him. “These are good. Please tell the chef I love them.”

His serious mouth twitched until it finally curved into a smirk. “The fries or the chef?”

“Why not both?”

“Why the hell not?” With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head. “Back to the music. Like? Dislike? In between?”

“It’s not straight-up plagiarism like the last person you made me listen to, but it’s certainly derivative. Nothing new or exciting.”

“Yeah. That’s where my thoughts went, but I don’t trust myself since I was vibing with the rip-off artist until you laid out the facts.”

“You were vibing because he copied good music.”

“True.” Huffing, he tapped on his laptop. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Sparing my little feelings so I don’t feel like a dumbass.”

“Not really. I’m only stating facts. I doubt you listen to anywhere near as much music as I do, so it makes sense you wouldn’t have noticed the stolen beats. Though I’ve been listening to a lot less lately.”

He cocked his head, giving me his full attention. “Why’s that?”

“I’ve been listening to Russian lessons.”