“That sounds great.”
“What do you like?”
She considers. “Beef fried rice. Extra soy sauce.”
I sit down on the couch and order the food with an app on my phone. I’ve decided to keep letting my diet slide for the first month of the off-season, so I also choose some mandarin beef and seafood delight for myself.
Mia sets the vase down on the coffee table in front of us and then sits down next to me.
“How’s your visit with your brother going?” she asks.
I shrug. “The usual. We ordered in a bunch of Russian food that we love and Uncle Dix hates. Talked hockey for hours yesterday. Played poker and Alexei won Dix’s fucking wheelchair.”
Mia laughs and lowers her brows with surprise. “How is that gonna work?”
“Alexei makes Dix rent the chair back when he has to use the bathroom.”
“Ooh.” The ‘O’ shape of her lips gives me dirty thoughts. “I bet Dix is pissed.”
“Yeah. It’s a dollar a minute, so some of his shits get expensive.”
Mia frowns and laughs at the same time. “He’s an old man with constipation. It should be a flat rate, at least.”
“Alexei loves getting under his skin.”
Mia touches the lightning bolt necklace I gave her, which she’s still wearing.
“I love this,” she says softly. “Thank you again. I feel bad that I only got you socks for Christmas.”
“I love those socks.” I take her hand and squeeze it.
“I missed you.”
Fuck, it feels good to hear her say that. I’m trying hard to start our relationship right by not coming on too strong. My balls were Smurf-colored by the time I got home from our first date, alone, unless the bottle of lotion on my nightstand counts.
“I missed you, too.”
She looks like she’s going to say something, but then she stops, an uncertain look crossing her face.
“What?” I ask her.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Okay.”
She turns to face me on the couch, legs pulled up to her chest. “So you know how I’ve struggled with worrying that the fantasy of me is better than the reality?”
“Uh-huh, but I don’t know why. Your imperfections make you even better in my mind. More real.”
She arches her brows and gives me a look. “What imperfections might those be?”
“Well…your muffins might not be my favorite.”
“That’s my grandma’s recipe.”
“Yeah, but…did your grandma cook them for as long as you do?”
She rolls her eyes. “What else?”
I answer quickly. “That’s it, babe. You’re perfect to me other than the muffins.”
“Hmm. Not sure I believe you.”
“Anyway, you were saying?”
She clears her throat and starts again. “Anyway, I don’t want to do that anymore. I’m not perfect, but I’m me, and it’s taken a lot of hard work and perseverance to become me, you know?”
“I do. I’m glad you’ve come around.”
“The thing is…there’s one thing I still need to tell you.” She looks down at her hands and twines her fingers together nervously.
“It’s okay, Mia. Just say it. I’m not going anywhere.”
“I need a little bit more time. This thing…it’s something Adam gave me a lot of grief over. I feel…shame, I guess, when it comes to this. And I should also tell you I’m not ready to sleep with you yet.”
There’s a moment of disappointment, but I swallow it. I want this thing with Mia to last, and I know I can’t rush it. She just got out of a shitty marriage, after all.
“We’ll wait until you’re ready,” I say. “However long that takes.”
She glances up at me with a relieved smile. “I do want it, you know, physically. I just want to be ready emotionally.”
“I want that, too. You don’t need to explain.”
She sighs softly. “And this thing I need to tell you…I’ll do it soon. Before we sleep together for sure, because I feel like that’s a commitment, you know? To me it is.”
“To me, too.”
“But even if we don’t have sex yet, we can still…you know.”
I feign confusion. “No, what?”
“Anton…”
“Mia…”
“Maybe I should just show you what I mean,” she says.
“Yes.”
A thousand fucking times yes. My dick pulses with awareness of her as she stands up in front of the couch, grabbing the bottom of the long-sleeve T-shirt she’s wearing and pulling it up over her head.
Her rounded breasts are visible through the white lace cups of her bra, the nipples dark and—as promised—large. The real Mia is so much more perfect than I ever could have fantasized, I can hardly breathe.
She goes to toss the shirt on the ground, but then holds on to it at the last second, saying, “I should have waited until after our food gets here.”
“Just give me five seconds,” I say, grabbing my phone and typing out a frantic text to the delivery service I called. “And…okay, done. I just paid the guy extra to leave it outside the door.”
“You must not be very hungry,” Mia says, biting her lower lip as she drops her shirt to the floor.