Act Thirty-One
Baylee Wright
“It’s me, Kat!” Luka.
That was one-hundred percent Luka Kotova. I keep smoothing my lips together, and my arm loosely hangs onto my bent knee. Nervous-excited at even the thought of seeing him right now.
Katya springs off the desk chair and cracks the door. I piece apart the chaotic shouts. Most of them yell at Luka, “Who’s in there, Luka?! Find out who! Who said Dimitri has a little cock?!”
Luka ignores his family like it’s just any other day.
Katya speaks in Russian to her brother, and after a couple exchanged words, she opens the door wider and Luka slips inside. He kicks the door closed.
And his eyes instantly find me on the floor, his lips surely rising.
“You’re Luka,” Camila states.
Luka glances at Camila and nods.
She swings her head to me. “Accurate description. Spot on.”
“What?” Luka smiles bigger at me.
I shrug, but I smile off of his as usual. “I described you to her.”
His brows jump, his grin curving even higher. “You did?”
I nod and lose track of my next thought. I notice a baggie of ice in his left hand, along with a potted cactus. Rudy.
Before he nears me, he hugs Katya to his side and says Happy Birthday, Katya in Russian.
She hugs back and then rises and falls on her tiptoes excitedly. Speaking eagerly in the same language, I assume she’s thanking him for the gift.
“You already opened it?” he asks in English, his voice tighter than normal.
“Was I not supposed to?”
My stomach nosedives like maybe I forgot to intervene. Quickly I double-check our text thread, but Luka never replied to my not yet answer. So whatever he planned, he didn’t inform me.
“No, it’s…” He stops himself as Katya’s face falls, and he sweeps her makeup with deep, tormented thought. I seriously think he regrets gifting the fake ID.
Luk.
I wish I could hug him and remind him that his sister is older than she sometimes appears. She’s seventeen.
She’s tough-skinned and sweet-hearted. And Kat has the best directional sense. Whenever I forgot where a really good food truck was located, she’d remember and tell me which block it was parked on. I’d trust Katya Kotova with my life, and usually Luka would too.
So what’s his deal?
“Luka?” Katya’s voice breaks a little.
“It’s okay.” He nods a couple times like he’s trying to believe it. They share a look that I can’t translate perfectly. If I had to try, I’d say it’s Katya reassuring him that she’s not naïve and she’s allowed to grow older—and Luka trying to accept this fact.
Then Luka shakes the baggie of ice and gestures to me.
Katya smiles and nods like go to her.
I’m about to stand, but Luka already towers above me, dressed up in dark jeans and a white button-down. Squatting, he becomes eye-level with me. He passes me the ice but hangs onto my cactus.
I roll up the sleeve of my robe, genuinely scared about Rudy now. The ice touches my bandage, and my shoulders relax at the cold that soothes my second-degree burn.
I have no idea if the other girls are watching us. I’m concentrated on the potted succulent more than I probably should be.
“He’s not in pieces?” I ask, seeing an intact ceramic pot.
“Still alive,” Luka assures me. “He just has a little more character than before.” He waits like he’s ensuring I’ll be okay with the incoming news.
My features plummet. “Who took a knife to Rudy?”
“I don’t know,” he breathes, not denying that someone cut my cactus.
My fingers touch the watery corners of my eyes, and I try to speak—to say something like: it doesn’t matter or it’s just a cactus. It’s just a thing.
I must not believe those words because I can’t find the strength to say them. I gather my thoughts, and softly, so only he can hear, I ask, “What kind of character?”
Luka reaches out to touch my cheek, but he stops short. Hesitating. He drops his hand, and my chest caves with his. Hold me.
Kiss me.
Luka licks his lips and then hands me the pot. “You have to turn it.”
I rotate Rudy, and my face contorts.
The bulbous lump on Rudy’s backside has been hacked off. I try to process this into an emotion other than heavy sadness. I keep swallowing and swallowing. I see no point in racing out to the living room and accusing every Kotova. It doesn’t really matter who did it.
What’s done is done. Yelling feels worthless.
Still, it hurts. “He looks awful,” is all I can say. My nose runs before my eyes leak, and I wipe my upper-lip with my arm.
Luka can’t hold back any longer. He wraps a strong, sturdy arm around my shoulders and draws me to his chest. I place Rudy down and clutch Luka’s sides tightly.
Kiss me.
He kisses the top of my head. Taking the risk in front of the girls. Then he tugs my body even closer, and his heartbeat thuds right against mine.
My cheek to his collar, I eye the round cactus, and I think about how Luka found this pot in a chaotic living room full of men. And he knew to protect what was left of Rudy for me.
Immense, boundless affection swells inside my body, and I inhale a deeper breath than before. “Thank you,” I say in a whisper.
Luka cups my cheek, not resisting anymore. Lips to my ear, he murmurs, “I’m here for you. Whatever you need, I’m here, Bay. It’s not a dream. It’s real life.”
I try to believe in a reality where we can touch in front of people.
And hold one another.
It’s happening right now.
It’s happening.
I breathe easier, and I lift my head to see all three girls trying not to gawk. But they see us. Luka kneeling on the floor. Clasping my cheek with tenderness and care. Me gripping his waist like I’m afraid he’ll leave soon.
I’m the first to reluctantly let go, and he slowly follows suit. His gaze travels with mine to Thora, Camila, and Katya. I don’t know what to say, but I rise to my feet with Luka, our fingers the only part of us that consistently touch.
Camila is the only one who doesn’t know the “cocaine” rumor, so I’m not surprised by her curiosity. “You’re really not together?” she asks while untying her messy bun. Curly brown hair cascades down her chest.
“No,” Luka and I say in unison.
He’s less tense than me. Casual. At ease. He stuffs his hand in his jean’s pocket. “We used to be best friends.”
“Best friends who kiss, right?” She wears a teasing smile.
Katya, sitting cross-legged on her desk chair and clutching the wardrobe box, interjects, “They couldn’t; Aerial Ethereal has a huge rule about minors not being allowed to date or hook up inside the company, and they were friends as teenagers.”
Technically I’m still a teenager at nineteen, but thankfully an adult in the eyes of society.
Camila recoils. “What kind of rule is that?”
A terrible one.
Luka and I stay absolutely silent. Like our secret history is seconds from being broadcasted. In this room, no one knows that we’ve confronted this rule.
“It makes sense,” Katya says. “They employ kids, and they want everyone underage to focus on the profession, not hooking up. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen in secret, but everyone who’s been caught has been fired. So most don’t even try.”
Camila has her chin in her palm, looking between Luka and me. “Why’d you two stop being friends?”
I can’t tell if she’s connecting all of these tiny pieces together and finding the real picture that we’ve been sworn to hide forever.
I open my mouth, but I notice Katya pondering so hard that her brows pinch together. Just as I’m about to say our lie (drugs), she swivels on her chair to Luka.
“You two…you never secretly dated, did you?”
He has to lie.
He can’t tell the truth.
Luka shields most of his heartbreak, but I see it shatter in the creases of his eyes. I know that pain. I feel it every single time I lie to Brenden.
Meeting Katya’s gaze straight-on, he says, “Never. Baylee and I were only just friends. Nothing else” He goes even further. “I promise I would’ve told you…” if he could have.
It hurts to hear him lie to someone he loves.
Katya nods, believing him without falter. “That’s what I thought.”
Luka swings his head to Camila. “We stopped being friends when we were caught doing drugs.”
“Wow.” Camila has nothing else to add but that, and I try to compartmentalize my feelings. I pick up Rudy and place him on my windowsill. All the while, I feel the heat of Luka’s gaze.
I nudge Katya’s chair with my foot. “You can open your present from me.”
Katya slips off a tiny card beneath the bow. Flipping the card, she laughs and flashes the script to everyone. I wrote: For Posh Spice.
Then she begins unwrapping the purple paper.
I still feel Luka staring at me. It makes me curious. I’m supposed to be the observer here.
Maybe he’s wondering how I am. I take a breath, and I brave a glance his way.
Luka leans coolly against the wall, a Nova Vega show poster hung above his tousled dark hair. The longer I observe him, soaking up his features—his nonchalant, relaxed posture and radiant eyes—the more his lips upturn.
And then he mouths, I love you.
I feel my smile emerge, and I press my fingers to my lips. My eyes dart cautiously to the other girls, but their focus isn’t on this captivating, heartbreakingly gorgeous guy.
Luka acts like he’s invisible, but I see him. All of him.
His earnest grin grows brighter. Like a shooting star across blanketed, quiet night.
Katya gasps, and our gazes break.
She springs to her feet, eyes big. Tissue paper flutters to the floor, and a sequined, gunmetal gray dress is draped over her arm.
With shaking hands and fixated eyes, she reads a birthday card from the designer of that particular dress.
“What is it?” Camila asks.
Katya tries to play it cool, but she’s almost hyperventilating. “Rose Calloway wrote me a birthday note. She’s my…” role model. “She means so much to me.” Katya sniffs loudly, stifling tears. “She wrote ‘Katya, confidence starts within, and I believe this dress will help add fire to your strut. Be you. Be proud. Happy 17th Birthday, from one powerful woman to another.’” Kat looks to all of us. “Rose Calloway called me powerful.”
We’re all tearing up at Katya’s reaction to that. She wafts her hand by her face. I can practically hear her don’t ruin your makeup chant.
Katya sniffs again and then she wraps her arms around my shoulders. “Thanks, Baylee. This was…”
“You don’t have to say.” I hug back, my arms around her waist. “I know what it means to you.” I wish I could’ve given her Marvin, but our stuffed dinosaur is part of a past that has no place for our future.
We’re both grown. And moving somewhere else.
Somewhere new.
“Oh my God.” Camila gapes at me as I split apart from Katya. “You know Rose Calloway?”
“No, my aunt does. She’s the brand and marketing executive for Calloway Couture.” Rose’s fashion line. “But I’ve never met Rose Calloway.”
It took a couple phone calls to Aunt Lucy. I asked her if I could have the most “glittery” Calloway Couture dress on the sale’s rack. After I explained the gift, Aunt Lucy said, “I can do you better than that.”
The note definitely outshined the dress.
Camila shakes her head in awe. “You’re two degrees away from the Calloway sisters and their men.” Her mouth drops further. “Do you know Ryke Meadows? Do you have his number? I’m not joking when I say this: he’s my soul mate.”
Luka listens like a fly on the wall, and I think I’m the only one that catches the amusement in his gray eyes.
Thora wads up tissue paper. “You’d dump Craig?”
“For Ryke Meadows, the holy grail of all rugged, daring, women-adoring-and-protecting men. I’d dump everyone for him.”
Glass shatters outside, and someone shouts, “WHO SAID DIMITRI HAS A TINY DICK?!”
Camila cups her hands to her lips and yells, “THE TINIEST!”
Chatter explodes, and I mostly hear the name “LUKA!” among them. They really want Luka to relay an answer.
Grinning, Luka pops an orange Tic Tac in his mouth. When he notices me staring, I make a face at him. Almost like a serious pout.
He makes the same face back and then gestures me over.
I’m scared if I approach Luka, I’ll just sink into his arms and look up for a kiss. And he’ll say yes because it’s too hard to say no now.
Our emotions are at an all-time high. It’s safer staying away, even if I hate it.
So I mouth, later.
He nods, understanding.
Katya hugs her dress to her body. “I’d dump everyone for Connor Cobalt.” Rose Calloway’s husband.
“What?” Luka cringes.
Thora and Camila are smiling, and Katya gives her brother a look like you’ll never understand. “Connor Cobalt is the smartest man on the planet,” she reminds him.
His brows scrunch, and he shakes out another Tic Tac. “That’s the only reason you like him?”
“I like that he’s always well-dressed, and he respects Rose Calloway’s opinion. And he’s a genius,” she emphasizes like this outweighs all.
Luka is fishing for something else. “That’s it though? Nothing else?”
Katya is confused, and then realization hits her. Now she’s the one cringing. “I didn’t say anything about sex!”
His brows jump. “If you Wikipedia Connor Cobalt, his sexual preferences are in his bio.”
“I was thinking it,” Camila chimes in.
I’m stuck on the fact that Luka searched Connor Cobalt on the internet before. “Is he your favorite?” I tease Luka like he once teased me.
He instantly smiles at my question, remembering our food truck outing. I wish I could call it a date. “No,” he says, “but I know who yours is.”
“Who?” Katya asks me.
“Not Loren Hale,” I announce.
Luka tilts his head at me. “Come on.”
I give him a look, and then sigh into surrender. “I mean…if I had to choose, it probably would be him.”
Luka grins like he caught me. Maybe he did. But if it was Loren Hale vs. Luka Kotova, there is no contest. There’s only one man who completes me.
Thora asks, “In terms of Connor Cobalt’s bio, are we talking about what I think we’re talking about…?”
Katya sighs. “The fact that Connor Cobalt is into BDSM, yeah. And maybe I do prefer that.”
Luka’s face is frozen in shock, processing this at a snail’s pace. I watch. Staring. I think he’s not sure how he should react. If he should wince or smile or do nothing at all.
He asks, “Do you know what BDSM is?”
“I’m seventeen. God,” she groans. “I know I look young and all of you baby me, but I’m aware of what’s outside. I live in sin city. I’ve met working girls—I’ve been propositioned to be one, and I said no.”
“I know,” Luka says. “I was there.”
“I’m reminding you.” Katya huffs.
Camila leans forward. “Have you tried BDSM?” she asks her.
Luka immediately steps off the wall. “This is my cue to self-eject.” His voice is easygoing, and he heads to the door.
Katya isn’t hesitant to answer. “Not yet, but I’ve read scenes in one of Thora’s books.” Paranormal romance. Thora often lends them to Katya.
“They’re good books,” Thora says confidently. “I mean, solid stuff.” She shakes her head at herself. She was doing really well there.
“Very solid,” Camila quips. “I loved the one about the twelve-inch vampire cock.”
I watch Luka pause by the door, more interested than he’s letting on. People-watching is a serious form of entertainment of mine, so I understand the lingering.
“The Forgotten Night,” Thora names the title. “It’s in my top ten favorites, but not just because of the vampire dick. Though that’s…”
“Hot,” Camila finishes.
Thora looks grateful when Camila finds the words that are tangled in her head.
Luka nods to Camila and jokes, “Have you met Dimitri? Guy’s massive.”
Of course Luka puts a good word in for Dimitri. That’s the opposite kind of relationship I have with his cousin.
“He’s not that massive,” I assure Camila. “He’s tiny.” I squish my fingers together to a microscopic size.
Luka laughs at me. “He’s fucking huge.”
I squish my fingers even closer.
“Which one of you has actually seen his dick?” Camila asks.
We both raise our hands.
“No you haven’t,” Luka laughs again, and we’ve somehow unconsciously stepped towards one another. We’re only a few feet apart.
“I did. I swear.” I can’t stop smiling. Are we seriously bonding over Dimitri’s dick? We’re so bizarre. Weird. And I really love every second.
“He just whipped it out on you?” Luka questions, disbelieving and a little peeved, I think.
“He unabashedly let his towel drop in the locker room showers. I caught a glimpse in my peripheral.” I motion to my eyes.
Luka grins, shaking his head. “That doesn’t count.”
I think about this. “It counts somewhat.”
“Somewhat,” he agrees.
To Camila, I say, “Trust me, you don’t want to compliment Dimitri’s penis. He’ll think you’re into him, and since you have a guy…”
“Good to know,” she nods and then shouts again, “DIMITRI HAS A LITTLE WIENER!”
All the Kotova guys yell in unison, “LUKA!!”
Camila winces at him. “Sorry.”
Luka looks the furthest from bothered. “I don’t mind. I can keep your name a secret from my cousins; you never told me it anyway. No sweat.” His gaze sweeps me head-to-toe, the once-over heating every inch of me, and then he returns to the door.
Katya splays her dress on the chair. “We’ll be out soon.”
Luka checks his watch and then casts one last glance back at me, as though cataloging my emotional state. My lips inch up, but I wish he could stay longer.
Luka nods to me like we’ll be together soon.
At The Red Death.
He’s the only thing I’m looking forward to tonight. Otherwise, I’d probably just curl up in bed.