Chapter 83

• Breathing heavily, I rested my forehead against his chest, trying to calm my heartbeat. He stood still for a few more seconds, just like me—silent, unmoving.
• Only then did I notice how unlike himself Vadim looked. His clothes were never anything but spotless—fresh, crisp. But now? His gray t-shirt was stained in places, damp with sweat. His pants weren’t any better.
• The rush of post-sex euphoria faded fast, replaced by a gnawing anxiety. What kind of task had his father given him? Could it really be that serious?