Isn't It Bromantic (Bromance Book Club #4) by Lyssa Kay Adams

            Elena didn’t respond to Mack’s suggestion. She was too absorbed in watching Vlad’s reaction. She couldn’t tell if he was mad or . . . Oh, Vlad. His bottom lip swelled beyond the outline of his beard and trembled. He cleared his throat and reached for his crutches. “Excuse me for a minute.”

            Silence followed his retreat from the kitchen. The crutch-hop of his gait grew softer and softer as he headed down the hallway.

            “That man is too pure for this world,” Andrea said.

            “We’ll clean up,” Noah said to Elena, but his eyes were following his friend. “Go make sure he’s okay with this.”

            Elena found him leaning on his crutches and staring out the French doors in the dining room. Neighbor Cat wound around his good leg, purring up at him. At Elena’s appearance next to him, Vlad dipped his face to swipe one-handed at the wetness on his cheeks.

            “You have incredible friends,” she said quietly.

            “I know.”

            “It felt like a real Russian meal in there for a minute.”

            “Loud and chaotic?”

            “Exactly.” She tilted her head. “Are you okay with the party?”

            He bit his lip.

            “Hey.” Elena stepped closer and pressed her hand to the center of his chest. He looked down in surprise and . . . something else she would think about later. Something that made it difficult to form her next words. “You don’t have to do it. I’m sure they would understand.”

            “No, I—I want to do it. I need to.”

            “Good. I think it will be fun. I’ll make a ton of food, and we can all wear your jersey.”

            His bottom lip wobbled again, and it was like seeing her old friend after a long absence. Her gentle giant. Her hug in human form. The man she had never deserved and never would. This time, when the urge to hug him flared, she didn’t fight it. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. Within her embrace, his breath caught and his muscles stiffened.

            “It’s been a long time since you hugged me.” His voice was thick and gravelly.

            “You looked like you needed it.”

            He lowered his forehead to the crown of her hair and inhaled deeply. “I did.”

            A moment later, the sound of someone clearing his throat extra loud brought them apart. Elena jumped back and found Vlad looking down at her, face unreadable.

            “Thank you,” he said.

            “For what?”

            “Being here.”

            Colton appeared around the corner. “Okay, little butt. Let’s go. Time for your bath.”

            Elena watched him follow his friends upstairs, Neighbor Cat tagging along. As soon as he was out of earshot, she let out the heavy breath she’d been holding. He wasn’t the only one who’d needed that hug, but he at least was able to walk away from it without feeling the Earth tilt beneath his feet. She was suddenly tipsy, spinning in her own head.

            She couldn’t do that again. Not if she wanted to leave here with any piece of her heart intact.





Promise Me





The house was abandoned, as they all were. Empty, broken shells from the time before, when children huddled around dining tables and fireplaces with no idea of the hell that was to come.

            Anna had spent countless nights in houses like this. Places that once radiated warmth and light were now nothing but cold, dark stay-over shelters for the weary. At least this one had an actual bed. It had long since been raided for its blankets and pillows, but Anna wouldn’t complain. The mattress was soft, and it wasn’t the ground. She’d take it, even if she knew she wouldn’t actually sleep. She rarely did anymore. How could anyone sleep in a world like this?

            Two years. That’s how long she’d been in Europe. Her bosses at the Seattle Times wouldn’t even entertain her request to send her overseas as a correspondent after Pearl Harbor. You’re lucky to have a job at all, sweetheart. So when United Press Associations put out a call for Russian-speaking journalists, she applied using only her first initial. She wasn’t the only woman covering the war, but there were few enough of them that most men had no idea how to treat her. Only Tony had treated her like a real journalist.