Chapter Five
Penelope
I can’t seem to sit still as I fidget with the book I got from the school library. I’m not paying any attention to what my economics teacher is saying. I want to open the book and look through it, but I know Mrs. Smarten will scold me if I do. She’ll probably make me go to the whiteboard to answer questions she thinks I missed. God, I can’t wait to be out of high school already¸ though I know what will come next. I push the thoughts of college out of my mind. The large stack of acceptance letters are waiting to be dealt with, but I don’t want to think about it right now. At this moment¸ school isn’t anywhere on my radar.
I glance over at the clock for the tenth time in the past two minutes. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited for lunch, and I love food. That’s got to mean something. But I’m not concerned with eating. I only want to see him again. I want to sit next to him and see how he responds to me. He’s so different than anyone I’ve ever met before.
I bite my lip to keep from smiling as I think about his little nickname for me. Then I wonder if it’s a Russian term that everyone uses. Kind of like we use “honey” or “sweetheart” in America. Maybe he uses it with a lot of people. Then again, I can’t see Ivan walking around calling things beautiful. I want the name to be mine and no one else’s.
He broke a piece of my heart when he said he didn’t have any friends. Is it because he’s new to America? I tried to lighten the mood by making a joke, but I actually don’t think that he cared that he didn’t have any. It was as if it was normal for him to be alone. I didn’t ask him if he had family. Or a wife. Crap.
What if he isn’t out there when I go to lunch? He didn’t answer when I told him where I’d be. The thought of him not showing up makes an emptiness take hold inside me. In all the time we’ve had guards on us, I’ve never liked it. Always being watched, always having eyes on me was annoying. I knew it made my parents relax a little and they weren’t so uptight when we had our detail, but I still had moments of rebellion against it.
My parents run the security and protection division at Osbourne Corporation. It’s my uncle Miles’s business, but I’m not sure what they do. Something about investments and buying things. Whatever it is, he’s made a lot of international purchases, and that can sometimes make people angry. My mom and dad might be overly cautious, but they think it’s better to be safe. We’re all family, which means any of us could be a target. That includes Pandora and our cousin, Henry. No one ever goes into details about why they are so protective, but I think there must be a story behind it.
As much as I hated my guards, I knew they were a necessity. Even when I was busy trying to give them the slip, I wasn’t being reckless. Most of the time I just went home. But the thought of running from Ivan is almost ridiculous. In fact, here I sit, hoping he will be there when I go outside to have my lunch. I like his eyes on me. They look at me with heated curiosity, as if he isn’t sure what to do with me.
When the teacher finally dismisses us I almost trip over my own feet trying to get out of the classroom as quick as possible. When I hit the hallway I see Pandora standing like she’s waiting for me. She likely wants to have lunch together, something we do a few times a week. The other times she spends it in the library doing her homework so she doesn’t have to do it when she gets home.
“Hey,” I say, trying to play it cool, but she shakes her head and her ponytail bounces back and forth. At school it’s easier for people to tell us apart. We have to wear uniforms, and girls have the option of slacks or a skirt. I wear a skirt, but Pandora always wears slacks. She plays down her looks whereas I’ve always been the one to dress up. I almost cried the day I could finally fit into our mom’s shoes. I could shamelessly do a wardrobe change four times a day.
“New guy bring you to school today?”
“Yep,” is all I give her. Because she knew the answer to the question before she even asked. Pandora and I both have had our driver’s licenses since we were sixteen, but our parents still insist on us being driven around.
“Where we eating?” she asks.
“I’m guessing you’re eating in the library to finish your art history paper.” I have a feeling she still isn’t done with it. She could have put it off until the last second, but Pandora can be a perfectionist, too. So whatever she did this morning, she’ll still want to go over.
She growls in the same way Mom does when Dad makes her mad.
“I’m still watching you,” she warns, putting two fingers to her eyes and then pointing them back and forth between us. I roll my eyes.
“Watch my backside.” I wink at her before turning around and moving towards where I hope Ivan will be.
“Penny, I’m serious with this one. He’s not a boy you can toy with like here a school.”
I turn around and glare at her because people likely heard her in the hallway. “Love you, Pan, but I’m eighteen. You’re not always going to be around to watch my every step.”
“I love you, too,” is all she says, shaking her head and walking away.
I know her words were more than love and affection. They’re also a reminder that she does what she does because she loves me. I feel the same, but I have to be able to break away and make my own choices. I can’t stay in the Bubble Wrap they want to keep me in forever.
Pulling my phone out of my bag, I see I have a text from my dad telling me to have a great day, followed by a bunch of emojis. I smile down at my phone and send one back.
I stop when I run into a wall. Not a wall, actually, just a very big man. My eyes travel up to Ivan’s face. His hands are locked on my shoulders, keeping me from falling on my ass. I smile even bigger now that he’s here.
“Hi,” I say, and try to move in a little closer to him. His dark eyes travel down my face to the phone in my hand.
“What was making you smile,” he finally says, nodding towards the phone. “Was it a boyfriend?” he asks as his eyes narrow. Then he begins to glance around us. “Does he go here?” That question sounds like a threat, like if there were a boyfriend, he’d take care of it.
My smile widens further. I like his jealousy so much more than I should. Now I know what it means. He likes me. I can tell from the spark in his eyes that his comment isn’t about protecting me.
“I’m smiling now because you came to have lunch with me.” He fixes his gaze on me again, no longer looking for my nonexistent boyfriend. “Before, it was my dad. He likes to send goofy messages to Pandora and me throughout the day.”
The lines around his mouth ease, and I see tension leave his body. He nods then reaches out, taking my bag from off my shoulder and my phone from my hand.
“Your lunch break isn’t long, and you must eat.” He looks over to the bench I’d told him about, and I slip my arm into his.
His body freezes for a moment, and he stares down at me, surprise on his face.
“No boyfriend,” I tell him. “Do you have a girlfriend? A wife?” I swear I stop breathing at my question.
“Net.”
I feel myself relax. I notice my reaction is the same one he had when I told him I didn’t have a boyfriend.
“I find that hard to believe,” I tease him, pulling him over towards the bench and sitting down. I take my bag from him.
“It is not hard to believe. I’ve never had a girlfriend or a wife.”
I still at his words, then drag my eyes from him and dig in my bag for my lunch. “Do you have a family, Ivan?”
“Net,” he says easily as he inputs the code to unlock my phone. I would ask how he knows the code, but I don’t. With a family that works in security, I know nothing is really private. But I don’t care about my phone right now. I’m still ruminating on the ease with which he told me he doesn’t have a family. No emotion crossed his face when he made that confession.
“I don’t have your number,” I tell him, finally getting him to look away from my phone. “What if I need you and I can’t get a hold of you.”
“I will never be far enough away from you that you could yell my name and I wouldn’t hear you.”
“But what if I want to say something to you that I don’t want anyone to hear.” I slide a little closer to him. He looks back down at the phone, and I watch him program his number in.
“You can call me anytime you like,” he says, handing me my phone back. I slide it into my bag, and I open up my lunch.
“Do you track me on the phone?” I ask.
I don’t know why I ask, because I already know the answer. But for some reason I want to hear him say he does. I think I’m losing it. Something that drove me crazy days ago is now something I want.
“Da,” he confirms, but he doesn’t seem to like his own answer. “I do not like cell phone tracking. I don’t think it works as well as others.”
I open my sandwich and try to hand him half, but he shakes his head.
“But I made it. Didn’t you like your breakfast?”
“It was the most wonderful meal I’ve ever eaten. But I will not eat your lunch. You need to eat it.”
I love his sweet answer and even feel myself blush a little that he liked my cooking. “Please. Just half a sandwich.” I give him the little pout that works on my family, and watch his eyes go wide for a second.
“If it pleases you,” he says before taking the sandwich from me. I open my container of fresh-cut apples and caramel and sit it between us.
“Are there other ways you could track me?”
His sandwich stills halfway to his mouth. “You would let me?” His eyes light up a bit, and he seems excited at the idea.
“I’m not saying no,” I tell him, taking a bite of my sandwich. He does the same, and I can see his mind working as if putting something into play already.
I watch him eat, unable to stop looking at the tattoos on his hands. I reach out to touch one before I think better of it. He freezes at my touch on his bare skin and twitches like I’ve hurt him.
“Does that bother you?” I ask, tracing one of the tattoos on his hand. He looks as if he’s searching for an answer, or maybe he doesn’t want to give me one. “You flinched,” I say, pushing for something.
“I’m used to pain when someone touches me.” Once again he says it so easily, like it’s no big deal. It’s then I know Ivan’s life is darker than I ever thought possible, and something about that makes me want to touch him more, slide even closer, show him that isn’t true and that there is softness in this world. If you asked my family, they would say I’m the definition of it.
“I’d never hurt you,” I tell him.
“I think you could hurt me more than anyone ever has.”
My eyes snap to his and we stare at each other. I feel the warm breeze on my cheeks and the sun shining between us. His agonized dark eyes are a stark contrast to what’s happening inside me. I feel as if I’m coming alive, bursting into being.
“People are watching. They don’t think you belong with me,” he whispers.
I look around the school and see he’s right. People stare at us, but they have to know he’s allowed to be here. No one gets on school grounds without going through the proper protocol.
“It’s time to get back to class, krasotu. I’ll be waiting for you after.”