Nikolai
NikolaiI’m finding it hard to regret my bad decision-making. Watching Chelle come undone was a f*****g privilege.
I take care of business while Chelle showers—paying Oleg, Adrian and Ravil out of the pot, then I order some gyros and Greek salad to be delivered for lunch.
“You need a dining table,” Chelle announces when the food arrives, and I put it on the quartz breakfast bar.
“Do I?” I survey the apartment. I guess a dining table seemed pointless when it’s just me living here. “I rearranged many times but nothing seemed right,” I admit, waving my arm around the open-concept living area. “Where would I put it?”
“By the windows. Definitely.” There’s a warm timbre to her voice that does something strange to my insides.
“You’ll have to pick it out for me,” I tell her. “That’s y
