to come,” Asher’s dad offers, but I really don’t want to join.
No offense, of course. It’s just that talking to a bunch of new people is one thing. Charming people at the bar when I’m working for tips is another. But hanging out with my sort-of-probably-boyfriend’s family for hours?
I’m not sure I’m quite ready to handle that yet.
Not when this is still so new between Asher and myself—and the other guys too. Plus, I don’t want to be rude and cut in on their family time. Their son already spent most of his summer watching over me while I was in a magical coma. I don’t want to take him away from them any more than I already have.
“No, don’t even worry about it,” I tell them with a smile. “I have to go see some other people, but it was really great to meet you all. You’re all lovely, it’s easy to see where Asher gets it from.”
Ash looks like he just choked on air. I don’t think he’s heard me be this polite to people in… well, ever.
I kiss him on the cheek, wave at his family, walk away—and promptly try not to have a panic attack.
Holy shit, I actually survived that. I think they actually like me.
Quick, where’s a corner so I can hyperventilate?
I don’t see a convenient dark corner for shrieking and freaking out in. I don’t see Cam or Roman either, buddying it up in their “no family” club. But I do see Dmitri.
Huh.
He’s with his parents, two people who look like they’ve just stepped off a private jet and are wondering what sort of peasant party this is that there isn’t any caviar. Dmitri takes after his father in looks, clearly, with the dark hair and eyes, but I suspect his mother’s actually got dark hair too and that her blonde locks are an expensive dye-job.
Dmitri looks actively miserable.
Okay, in fairness, the man’s not a exactly a bucket of sunshine on a good day. I admit this. But let me put it this way. When I showed the guys my essay on the intersection between the spiritualist movement in the United States and necromancy magic, Cam told me all the things that were great about it, Asher fixed my grammar, and Dmitri took one look at it and said, “your conclusion is weak and you ramble too much in the third and sixth paragraphs.”
And I need that. He didn’t just say “it sucked.” He told me what needed work so I could make it better. Dmitri sees the weak points, he sees what’s wrong or missing, but he also sees ways to make it better. Sure, he can be negative, but at least he’s constructive about it. He’s snarky and sarcastic, but so am I, and he’s never actually insulted me.
This? This isn’t negativity or sarcasm or crankiness. He looks like he desperately wants a bolt of lightning to strike him so he can die quickly.
Shit. I can’t just leave him like that.
I change course from my dark-corner-searching to walk over and join them. Then I put on my sunniest, what can I get you, drunk bachelor party on a Friday night customer smile, and say, “Hi, you must be Dmitri’s parents!”
Dmitri goes bug-eyed for a brief second—then his face settles into a disconcerting mask. He likes to try and play his cards close to his chest, but he’s not nearly as good at it as Roman and Asher are. Those two can actually hide what they’re thinking when they want to. Dmitri usually just radiates irritation.
But right now? I’m not getting anything from him. It’s like I’m staring at a robot.
What the fuck?
“I’m Elliot,” I say to his folks, since robot-Dmitri seems to have momentarily powered down. “You must be so proud of him.”
The two of them stare at me like I’m something that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. I stop myself from extending my hand to shake theirs, because I’m honestly not sure they’d deign to touch me.
Dmitri clears his throat. I’ve never seen him look this awkward. “Mother, Father, this is my… classmate.”
That brings me up short.
I don’t gape at him, because I’m not dramatic and I don’t like to cause a scene and I’m definitely not going to let the people around us realize an argument might be brewing. But I sure as fuck want to.
Classmate? Classmate?!
My initial response is to consider asking him if he just casually feels up all of his classmates, waits by their bedside for