“Fu—” I caught myself before the swear word came out and quickly corrected myself. “Fruit salad!” Damn. It was hard to reform my drunken-sailor mouth sometimes.

I stepped outside of the bathroom to get a towel. The bedroom was quiet. Hell, the entire unit was dead. I moved around the bedroom, dripping water everywhere, until I found a clean towel in a drawer, pulled it out, and wrapped it around my body. Just then, I heard a soft click from the front door.

Who was that? Maybe it was Kris. Perhaps she had forgotten something from her earlier visit.

“Kris?” I called out. “Kris, are you there?” No reply. I called out again and waited. Still there was no reply. Just when I was about to head back to the bathroom, the bedroom door swung open and revealed the object of my distress: Vladimir.

“Avy! Are you all right?” he blurted, surprising me with the slight note of panic in his voice.

Our eyes met. He scratched the back of his neck, causing some of his dark locks to jut out. His lips parted as if he was about to say something, but he clamped them shut and hung his head. This was not a dream! I scurried back into the bathroom, and behind the closed door, I frantically pulled on my dark-grey hoodie and sweatpants. I was so nervous that I almost inserted my head into the hole meant for my arm.

My hair was still wet, so I wrapped the towel around my head, twisted it, and tucked it in at the back. I tossed my dirty clothes into the laundry basket in the corner then headed to the living room.

Vlad was sitting on the couch, eyes focused on the newspaper. I plopped myself down on the couch across from him. “Um, hi?”

“Hey,” he answered without looking up.

The long moment of disconcerting silence that passed made me wish I had something to read too. “Why are you here?”

He did not answer immediately, but when he did, I was shocked by what he had say. “I just got back from work—a trial actually. Kris asked me to come here and accompany you to dinner since she’s eating with Domenico’s mom.”

I was surprised for two reasons: one, the realization that my best friend had no subtlety now that she knew that I felt something for Vlad, and two, the fact that he had actually followed her request.

Ah, you’re nervous around him, aren’t you? said a traitorous voice inside my head, and I ordered it to shut up. It didn’t. Admit it, you like him being here.

“Are you ready?” he asked, followed by the crinkling sound of the newspaper flipping to the next page.

“For dinner? I ate a while ago.”

He looked up from the newspaper and I caught a faint redness on his cheeks. “Check the time. It has been hours since you had your last meal.”