Page 18 of Niko's Printsessa
He steps back and positions me in front of him, his chest flush with my back. He points to the eyepiece, “Have a look. Devil's Comet.”
I lean down and gasp when my eyes come into focus. It’s so clear, a bright green ball of light with a long green hazy tail.
“Wow.”
His arms are around my waist but it feels natural, like he’s doing it without intention, absentmindedly, like you would with a longtime lover.
He says, “That comet is bigger than Mount Everest.”
I continue looking through the telescope, but all I can think about is his body against mine and his breath tickling my neck.
“Tell me more.”
I can hear the smile in his voice, “It’s one of the brightest periodic comets known, and it comes around every seventy-one years. It’ll grow brighter as it flies towards the sun.”
“It’s amazing.”
“I didn’t want you to miss it.”
My heart flutters, but I don’t respond. Instead, I move from the eyepiece so he can experience the magic. He leans over and I take him in, this man I’ve known for over a decade. But, do I know him? Really? The man before me is not the Niko I know. That Niko is controlling, powerful, and dangerous. This man is thoughtful, sensitive, and intelligent. Both Niko’s are sexy as hell.
His face lights up with aw and wonder, an expression I’ve witnessed only one other time, which was earlier today- when I was in his lap trembling in ecstasy.
One thing is for certain, both Nikos have a strong effect on me.
We take turns looking at the comet, and he positions the telescope to show me stars, planets, and even a close-up view of the moon’s surface. I wonder if this is how Columbus felt when he reached the New World.
He leads me down the steps and types on the computer panel. The telescope retracts and the dome opens fully, giving us a naked eye view of the night sky.
He gestures towards the wingback chairs and pours each of us some Zoyalov Vodka. We sit in the dark, in comfortable silence, drinking and staring at the night sky.
I don’t know how much time passes, and when he speaks, the vulnerability in his voice catches in my chest.
“My mother and I would stargaze almost every night. We owned a small farm out in the middle of nowhere. We had a couplecows, plenty of chickens, and a large garden. Ma worked as a seamstress and people would drive out to our farm for her to tailor their fancy clothes. We lived off the land for the most part, and she earned enough money from her sewing to keep the lights on and feed and care for the animals.
“We lived off the grid before it was cool,” he jokes.
“Mornings, I would work on the farm and she would sew or meet with clients. In the afternoon, she homeschooled me, and in the evening, after our nighttime chores, we would sit outside and gaze at the stars.”
I can make out his silhouette with the light of the night sky, and I hear him finish his vodka, setting down the glass. He takes the tips of my fingers in his hand and caresses them. Emotions engulf me as his light touch sends shivers through my body, and I hold my breath not wanting to break the spell.
“When I was sixteen, my mother began to lose her eyesight. One day, she said her vision felt blurry, so I suggested making a doctor’s appointment. Surprisingly, the following day her vision was crystal clear. She lied to me, and her eyesight only got worse over time. We didn’t have money for doctors and she didn’t want to worry me. I had no idea it had progressed until it was too late and she waspractically blind.”
He sighs heavily. “I blame myself for ignoring the signs.”
I squeeze his hand and he runs his thumb over mine. Butterflies fill my chest.
He’s quiet for a few moments and I think maybe he’s done sharing, but he swallows hard and continues. “My mother enrolled me in public school when I was a freshman, saying if I wanted to go to college, I needed to be challenged and prove myself amongst my peers. I thrived in high school. I was on the football team, a stellar student, and popular with the girls. I wasliving the dream, too caught up in my teen life to realize anything was wrong. Until the night I came home to her unconscious, lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her vision was so bad, it’s a wonder she hadn’t injured herself before.
“She finally broke down and told me the truth. I’ve only seen her cry twice and the other time was the day she died.
“I forced her to go to the eye doctor but it was too late. The disease had progressed so much that there was nothing anyone could do. Soon after that, she had to stop sewing.”
He inhales and exhales several times, reigning in his emotions.
“I had to find a way to make money, and fast. That’s when I started fighting. I’d do my chores before the bus picked me up in the morning, and when I came home, I’d take care of Ma. After she fell asleep, I rode my motorcycle into town and fought for money. I was good at it, and it put food on the table.”
“You’re a good son, Niko.”