Boyfriend Let His Side 36

Chapter 36 

Chapter 36 

Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit! 

I can’t just launch myself out down the hall. There’s not enough time and it would be way too obvious that I’m flustered. 

I look around the bedroom and decide to cover my tracks by rummaging through my dresser drawers. Rearrange my makeup on the vanity counter. Something. 

Oh, wait, I should check my phone. 

Rideshare is here. Perfect. I’ll just- “Daphne.” 

The sound of surprise that wheezes from me is probably the worst giveaway. I clear my throat, smooth out my hair, and turn to smile at him. “Hiii…” 

Pasha looks at me from the bathroom doorway, brow furrowed deep. “I thought you left.” 

He probably doesn’t mean it as accusatory as it sounds. Unless… 

Double shit. Does he know? That I know? That I… saw? 

“Car broke down,” I try to explain with an easy, breezy laugh. “I mean, it won’t start, so at least it’s still in the garage. My ride is here, so I should-” 

“Hold on.” “But…” 

I’m suddenly at a loss for words. The sight of his muscles–and whooo boi is he ripped–rippling while still glistening from the shower makes my mouth literally water. And when he moves to his dresser, his back facing me, the towel around his waist drops to the floor. 

I look away. 

At least, I try to. 

Maybe it takes me a few seconds to realize I’m staring. 

Maybe it takes me a few seconds to wonder why the hell we’re not currently horizontal and moaning. 

Because it was a drunken, stupid, one–time thing. A one–night stand, emphasis on the “one.” If he wanted you that bad, he’d have let you know by now. 

“Come.” 

I’m snapped out of my thoughts by Pasha’s deep voice right in front of me. He’s completely dressed, splashed with cologne, and looking at me expectantly. 

What were we doing? Oh, right. He wants to walk me down to my ride. Probably wants to make sure it’s not a serial killer and all that. 

When the elevator doors open on the ground floor, Pasha follows me out into the lobby. I figure this is where he’s going to take a glance at my car, make sure one of his cronies is on my tail, and go saunter off to wherever it is he’s going today. 

But he follows me through the front door. 

And to what is apparently my ride, idling by the curb. 

“Morning,” he casually greets the driver at the lowered passenger window. “Sorry for the confusion. We’re good.” 

The driver starts to ask me what’s going on when Pasha pulls out a few bills from his pocket and hands them to him. 

“For your trouble.” 

And that’s how I’m left, dumbfounded, as my rideshare pulls away. 

Pasha calmly turns around, loops his arm around me, and steers me toward the garage walkway. He doesn’t look up from his phone until the Charger pulls up next to us and one of his guards–Boris, I think–slides out of the driver’s seat. 

“All yours, boss.” 

09:59 C 

Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Ruin My Painting, Now He Regrets 

31.0% 

Chapter 36 

They exchange keys, Packe opens the passenger side, and I’m deposited into the seat like some errand child. 

“I’m sorry.” Itlandly say once he’s in as well, “but what the hell just happened? 

“I’m driving you to work.” He adjusts the seat and a few mirrors, not once looking at me. “Pace up.” 

1 frown at him. “But I had a ride* 

“You still do. Now, Inuckle up.” 

I huff and adjust the seatbelt while he pulls out into the street, still feeling like he’s treating me like some child. “I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way to work,” I remind him 

“With a complete stranger?” He shorts. “I don’t fucking think so.” “I didn’t ask what you think” 

His jaw clenches for a second. “You should. It’d save both of us a lot of time.” 

The actual nerve of this man… “I have my own car.” 

“You mean that death trap?” He snorts. “Time for a new car.” “Hey! That’s my death trap. And I happen to like it.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s my baby inside you.” 

Pasha’s gaze is glued to the road. Mine, however, studies his face to see if he meant what he said. I know our baby is important to him and all, but this feels like a bridge too far. 

“I can’t afford a new car,” I finally admit, slumping back in my seat. 

He’s silent. I figure that’s the end of that, when he breaks his silence with, “Boris will drive you to work until we get you a new one.* 

I don’t know what to say, I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but I also shouldn’t let this man shower me with so many gifts. He pays for my food, I’m suspicious he’s paid for all my new clothing, and he’s put me up in his penthouse–which I’m pretty sure he’s also paying for. When he’s covering everything, what’s to stop him from asking me to start, y’know… uncovering myself? 

As if you’d complain. That flutter–kicking in your stomach didn’t happen by magic. 

“I really like my car as it is.” 

Again, that vein in his jaw tics for a second or two. But then we’re in the drive–thru of the smoothie shop and he relaxes for the sake of the barista, who calls him by name and hands over an order with a beaming smile. He ordered ahead? 

“Fine. We’ll get it fixed, too.” He hands me the smoothie. “But you’re only driving it after it’s thoroughly checked, and only when someone is available to follow you.” 

“Why even have anyone follow me at all? I never go anywhere but work and home.” 

“Because the rest of the world is unpredictable. And you’re carrying the future leader of our family’s Bratva. Any one of my soldiers will follow you to fucking Tibet if they need to.” 

I sip on the smoothie to hide my pout. I don’t exactly love being under so much constant surveillance, or being valued for what’s growing inside me. Makes me feel like a mule. 

“I hear Tibet is beautiful,” I grumble to myself between sips. I definitely don’t expect the chuckle next to me. 

Or the hand palming heavy on my thigh. 

I use the next sip as a cover for the heated gasp I almost let out. Not that I’m in any kind of mood for this impossible man, but… well, sue me if I’m reminded of what I saw this morning in the bathroom. What I heard. 

Pasha doesn’t say anything more. Just drives me to work, caresses my thigh with his thumb, and gives no indication that he knows my little secret. 

Figures. But that’s okay with me. 

It’s better for both of us if the walls between us stay right where they are. 

09:59