GiannaBraide and Dmitry are sitting in the living room when I come downstairs and the specific quality of their silence tells me they have been talking about something neither of them is going to repeat.I look between them. "Should I be worried?""No," they both say. At the same time. Which is somehow more alarming than if only one of them had said it.Dmitry stands the second I reach the bottom stairs, not in a rush though. Just rising slowly like gravity adjusted itself around me arriving in the room. Which is something I've relatively noticed him doing lately. He hands me a coffee without being asked. I inhale, letting the sweet aroma fill my senses before taking a sip.I don’t care what anyone says—mocha is coffee, and the best kind of coffee.The almond milk and dark chocolate melt across my tongue, and I shut my eyes, holding back a moan.The perfect combination.I feel both men’s gaze burning through my skin, nearly making me choke on the coffee. Shit. There's no need to be
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