Oh.

Rose thinks I wasn't into her.

She thinks she took advantage of me and was using me for my body.

I exited out of the text messages, not sure exactly what to do, just as another text came in.

Text from Unknown Number:

Hi Rose, this is your delivery driver. Your food order is ready and I'm headed to the house now

I typed a reply: This neighborhood can be tricky to find. Do you need directions?

The driver replied back: I think I've been there before, but having directions never hurts. Thanks

I typed out some directions for the driver and hit send. As I prepared to lock the screen, Rose called down the stairs, "Any word from the food driver yet?"

"Actually," I told her, "I just gave the driver directions."

"Great!" she said, bounding down the stairs, "I'm starved. I'm just gonna grab my phone and head back up to finish the bathroom."

As Rose approached the coffee table, she reached for her phone, but I pulled it back behind me. "Wait," I told her. Rose scowled.

"I came here to spend time with you, Roza," I told her, putting my arm around her waist and pulling her to sit across my lap, "not to sit in the living room while you're unpacking upstairs."

"Stop," she told me, "Just stop." Upon closer inspection, Rose's eyes were red and puffy. She had been crying. And I felt like shit.

"Stop what?" I asked her.

"Dimitri, either you want me or you don't," she told me with a slight tremble in her voice, "You can't have it both ways."

"Then I want you," I told her, giving her a light kiss on her lips, "I never said that I didn't. What happened here earlier, Rose, when you were ..." I struggled to find the right wording for what happened.

"Using you as a human sex toy?" she tried.

I growled lightly, both at her assumption that she was using me and at the exciting idea of Rose using a sex toy, hoping she couldn't feel against her hip the hardening that was already happening at that thought. "When you were kissing me and ... rubbing your body up against mine in a very ... provocative way, and when I was caressing your incredible breasts without a bra - something I've never done before to a girl without a bra on, and certainly not to a girl who had breasts like yours - Roza, it was very ... stimulating ..."

Rose looked at me with confusion. "And that's bad why?"

"I didn't say it was bad, Rose. In fact, it was, perhaps, a bit too stimulating. I might even say it was very ... productive," I told her, my cheeks heating at what I had just admitted to her, "which is why I think maybe we should slow things down just a little, so that I can show you the patience and respect you really deserve before that happens again."

"Productive ... Dimitri, are you telling me what I think you're telling me?" Rose asked, looking into my eyes, her lips just inches away from my own.

I closed my eyes and swallowed, unable to look her in the eye. "That depends on what you think I'm telling you."

Rose giggled lightly, "That I wasn't the only one who was climaxing earlier when I was on top of you?"

"You were not," I told her, as I ran the tip of my index finger along her collarbone, "and no one else has ever done that to me before, either."

"So I didn't do anything against your will?" she asked.

"Not at all," I told her, letting my eyes drift back down to her chest, just inches away from my fingers. It was so, so tempting to just lower my fingers and explore her luscious peaks some more. I looked back up and met her inquiring gaze. I knew it was all too evident what I'd just been thinking about.

"Comrade, I was afraid that I had taken advantage of you."

"Just because I wasn't sure I was ready doesn't mean it was unwanted," I told her. Rose leaned in and pressed her lips to mine, deepening the kiss as soon as her lips were fully upon mine. Our tongues tangled and she pulled the tie out of my still-wet hair, running her fingers through it.

Rose pulled back and said, "Your hair is wet."

"That tends to happen when you shower," I told her, "I had to clean up after I left."

"I guess I should've noticed. Not that it would've made a difference, but it might've made me wonder a little," she said, "So how slow should we take things, Comrade?"

"Maybe we just stick to keeping our clothes on for another date or two?" I offered, "And not touching each other anywhere the clothing covers?"

"I can do that if you can," she said, "but perhaps I should wear something that shows a little more skin," she teased, giving me that same sinful man-eating smile and a flirtatious wink.

"Mmm, I'd like that," I told her, my voice getting huskier than I meant for it to be. As I leaned in to kiss her soft lips again, the doorbell suddenly rang.

"That's gotta be the food," she told me, but she continued to lean in, letting her lips meet mine. I rotated and leaned her down against the couch, my body hovering over hers, one hand on the small of her back and the other twisted in her soft hair.

Against my lips, Rose murmured, "What if we just kept it above the waist?" I groaned at the thought of cupping and caressing her beautiful breasts again.

The doorbell rang again, just as Roza's stomach let out a deep growling sound. I pulled away and told her, "We'd better get that. I don't think he's going to leave."

Rose closed her eyes and sighed. "Fine," she told me.

I stood up and went to the door, opening it. The delivery driver was standing with his back to me, but I would recognize that messy brown hair anywhere.

"Adrian?" I asked.

He turned. When he saw me, he exclaimed, "Dimka! I'm trying to deliver some food for someone named Rose Mazur. Did I get the wrong house? I could've sworn Uncle Rand lived in the next house over."

"No," Rose said, coming up from behind me to stand at the door, "You have the right - Adrian Ivashkov?!"

"Wait - you know each other?" I asked her.

"Adrian and I were in the same high school together. He graduated the year after me. We went out for a few months, back in the day," she said, "How do you know Adrian? And what did he call you? Dimka?"

I laughed, telling her, "Adrian is my cousin. Our fathers are brothers."

"Yeah," said Adrian, "Dimka is a Russian nickname for Dimitri. His whole family called him that growing up. But, Rose, I thought your last name was Hathaway? You didn't get married, did you?'

"No," she said, "I don't go by Hathaway anymore. I had my name legally changed to my dad's last name after I finished high school. So, you're Dimitri's cousin, huh? That explains so much." She turned her head sideways and eyed me speculatively.

"Rose Hathaway?" I asked, hearing her say the name for the first time. I raised an eyebrow and grinned like a kid with a cookie, "Now, there's a name I've heard before. I didn't know that you were one in the same. I've heard some interesting stories about you." I did know, but it was a white lie.

"All false, I'm sure," said Rose, "There's a good reason I changed it."

"So, what's Dimitri doing over here?" Adrian asked, then looking between us, he added, "Are you two on a date? Isn't he a little young for you, little hooligan?"

Standing completely behind Rose, I frantically tried to wave both hands, trying to keep Adrian from mentioning my real age.

"Yeah," said Rose, "Ha, I don't usually go for underclassmen, but I did with you. Dimitri's just such a sweetheart that I couldn't resist."

"Yeah, he sure is a sweetheart. And honest as the day is long." Adrian added, giving a slight cough, "I mean, he's just barely - what are you now, Dimka? Twenty?" I arched an eyebrow, mentally telling him, Nice save, Adrian. I owe you one, buddy.

"Listen," said Adrian, handing over the bag of food, "I'd love to stay and chat, but I have other deliveries to make. Can I get a signature for the food?"

"Sure," said Rose, signing for the food and smiling, "I'd love to catch up later, though. It was good to see you, Adrian."

"You too, little hooligan. Let's plan on it," said Adrian, then nodding at me, he said, "Dimitri." I nodded back and he left.

A moment later, while Rose sat down with the food, I got a series of text messages from Adrian:

You better hope that I don't talk to Rose again until you have a chance to tell her your age

And you better be glad that I'm with Sydney now

I just lied to the one that got away for you, Dimka

I love you, buddy

But I love Rose more

You owe me, big time

I replied back: Yes, I do. And I'll tell her. Just give me a couple of months

"So, Comrade," said Rose, while I was still looking down at my phone, "How did you hear about me before we met? Did Adrian tell you about me?"

"No," I told her, "I went to St. Vladimir's. My older sister Viktoria would've been a grade above you."

"Her name doesn't ring a bell," Rose said, handing me my food, "I don't think I ever saw or heard of you there, either, though. Then again, I didn't always pay a lot of attention to all of the students younger than me. When I came back from being gone, it was like meeting everyone but the teachers for the first time. Did you have any questions about any of the rumors about me? I'm sure you heard a few doozies. I'd be glad to answer anything."

I couldn't help myself. This was my chance to find out some things. I'd start off small, though. "What about the rule that you have to have notarized documentation with a doctor's signature for a service animal?"

Rose laughed before she took another bite of her fries. Her laugh was a beautiful sound. "Oh, now that one is true. Lissa and I came back to school after everything happened with her sick uncle Victor and she was facing some major anxiety. Lissa's parents had let me stay at their house with her until she got re-acclimated to being back. While we were away, she had adopted this mangy-looking, smelly cat named Oscar from the Humane Society. She was afraid to leave him alone. Actually, we sort of both were, because I didn't want him peeing all over my stuff. But she also just didn't feel very secure around other people besides me and her parents yet, after it all happened.

"Anyways, she refused to go to school without him and was worried people would think she was a nut-job if she needed an emotional support animal, so I made a few fake phone calls over to the school claiming that Lissa had lost her sense of smell in a freak accident and Oscar was her service animal that would smell everything for her. It almost worked, too, if not for Stan Alto."

"Mean old Coach Alto?" I asked, "What did he do?"

"He had a hamster in his classroom. When Oscar tried to eat it, he called a lawyer and asked if a smelling-nose cat could be a legitimate service animal."

"Let me guess. It can't."
"Bingo," Rose said, "What else do you want to know?"

"What about the aluminum foil in the cafeteria?" I asked.

"Oh, that's a good one," Rose said, "And completely not my fault. My mom went on this whole eco-friendly kick the beginning of my sophomore year - the first time I was a sophomore. She decided we weren't going to use any disposable plastics and that all of our food would need to be in environmentally friendly packaging. She wouldn't let me order food from the cafeteria because they used styrofoam plates and plastic silverware, so she would pack me food in a paper bag and wrapped in aluminum foil. One day, she sent me to school with a slice of pizza wrapped in aluminum foil. I went to heat it in the microwave and I didn't know that you can't stick aluminum foil in a microwave, so I just tossed the whole thing in and set it for three minutes. Sparks started flying everywhere and the whole microwave caught fire! Poor Mrs. Karp ran out of the cafeteria screaming! After that, they made the rule, but I wasn't allowed to cook anything again, ever."

"So where did you say that you and Lissa lived while you were away, again?" I asked.

"We lived in Chicago for a while. My parents caught up with us Portland, though."

Now, on to the more difficult topics. "What exactly did you and Lissa do to support yourselves while you were gone?" Please say 'stripper' ... And then offer to give me a private dance as a demonstration.

"Well, Lissa's parents had always been a little paranoid about the economy, so they had twenty grand in cash stashed away in a safe in their house that we took with us when we left. For a while there, we were living off of that. After the cash ran out, we had taken waitressing jobs in this really shady strip club. Just waitressing, though - we never got naked or anything. It actually paid really well because drunk guys who come there just to give cash to pretty girls tip pretty good. The strippers made about triple what we ever made, though. We were paid completely in tips, under the table, until someone finally asked to see an ID and we both had to leave. In the end, we were working as swimsuit models, but eventually there was a private investigator who tracked us down through a photo in one of the local newspapers."

Now for the toughest topic of all: "How about you and Adrian? I mean, did you love him?"

"That was not a question I expected you to ask. And maybe not one I hoped you would ask, Dimitri. Yes, I loved him, but it just wasn't meant to be."

"How close were you, then, Rose?" I asked, gritting my teeth. I knew she wasn't 'mine', but I couldn't stand the idea of her being with someone else.

"If another friend hadn't convinced me to break it off, Adrian probably would've been my first."

"I see. And how do you feel about him now?"

"Why does it matter?" she asked me.

"Because it does. You haven't answered the question, Rose."

"Dimitri, are you ... jealous?" asked Rose, with a mischievous glint in her eye, "Oh, wow, you are!"

"Roza, you told me you didn't want me planning to be with anyone else anytime soon. I'd just like to ask the same of you."

Rose giggled. Of all the times to giggle, she fucking giggled. The woman was doubled over, rolling around on the floor, giggling so hard she could barely breathe. I growled at that.

"Of course, I'm not planning to be with anyone else, Dimitri! Is that what you seriously think?" Rose asked.

"Yes," I told her.

She took my hand and said, "How about this? I promise that until we both agree to see other people, I won't be with anyone else. Deal?"

"Deal," I told her.

"I'm willing to wait until we're both ready, but I'd like to be your first, Dimitri," she said. And my pants suddenly got a whole lot tighter.

-=o0/&\0o=-

Author's Notes:

So, is this any better than I left things last chapter? I hope so. Did you all catch the reference to Bloodlines with the newspaper photo of modeling being how they were tracked down?

As far as stripper part goes, I do have a little personal knowledge on the subject. (NO, I WAS NEVER A STRIPPER!) When I was in college, my husband had a couple of roommates who were dating strippers. It's not a job I would recommend for anyone. It's a super-sketchy and short-lived career and there are a lot of strippers with serious emotional problems or worse (one of them that I knew had a cocaine habit), but they could make some serious cash. The girls that I knew who were strippers would come over on a Saturday night with around $800 tips, which would - by inflation - be worth about $1,300.00 of today's money, in small bills, after working for only four hours!