Page 73 of True North
“He’s shy, and you’re an asshole,” JT said. “You’d scare him right back into the woods. Look, I know I’ve been scarce this summer, and that’s why, but I’m not opening this up for debate. I’m just letting you know what’s going on.”
An awkward silence fell. JT took a bite of lasagna and chewed without tasting it. He would eat as quickly as possible and then leave. He shouldn’t have done this tonight with everyone here.
“Will you tell us about him?” his grandmother asked.
JT blinked at her. He hadn’t expected that. “Well, he’s Russian. Long story. He’s a shifter, obviously. He’s a great cook but pretends he can’t even make toast. He likes terrible TV shows, just the absolute worst—that reality stuff you watch, Kendall.”
“My shows are great,” Kendall said.
JT ignored her. “We go fishing and swimming a lot. He likes mystery novels and soccer. He’s just—really easy to spend time with. He makes me laugh a lot. He doesn’t care about hockey at all. I don’t think he’s ever watched a single game.” He glanced down at his plate. “He doesn’t expect anything from me. I feel like I get to just be myself around him.”
“He sounds delightful,” JT’s grandmother said. “Does he play poker?”
JT grinned. “Not sure, but he’s ace at gin rummy. He beats me all the time. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
His grandmother tsked. “I thought I had taught you better than that. Well, we can’t all make a living fleecing tourists. Bring him to dinner next time and I’ll see if he plays.”
“Family card night?” Tyler suggested. “Beer and pizza.” He knocked his foot against JT’s beneath the table.
JT knocked back, more of a kick, because he was still kind of annoyed by Tyler’s habitual bullshit and wasn’t entirely ready to let him off the hook. Tyler acted like they were still bickering teenagers. “I’ll ask him. You have to promise you’ll be nice to him, though.”
Tyler drew an X across his chest. “Cross my heart and hope to die, needle, eye, et cetera.”
JT’s parents had been quiet through all of this. He turned to them now and met each of their eyes in turn. “Mom and dad, I know I haven’t always given you reason to trust my judgment. Misha means a lot to me, and he’s made me really happy these past couple of months. I hope you can accept my decision, but I’m not asking for permission or approval.”
His parents looked at each other, holding a silent conversation conducted largely via their eyebrows. Then his dad sighed and said, “I’m sorry we’ve made you feel that you can’t share things with us. We worry because we love you. But you’re right. You’re twenty-eight. We’ll stay out of it.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” his mom said. “That’s what matters most.”
JT wasn’t sure what to say. He hadn’t expected them to give way so easily, which was maybe unfair of him. They had loved and supported him his whole life. And maybe now they were ready to start trusting him.
“I am,” he said, thinking of Misha in the shower with him earlier, leaning his head on JT’s shoulder, swaying gently as if listening to some silent music. JT had never quite felt like he had in that moment. Not about anyone. “I’m really happy.”
“Gross,” Tyler said. “Everyone hurry up and eat, I want dessert.”
* * *
Misha greeted him at the mudroom door when he got home, rumpled and relaxed in a pair of shorts and one of JT’s sweatshirts. JT gave him a kiss, then another, Misha’s hand gripping the front of his T-shirt and holding him close. “What have you been up to?”
“Call of Duty,” Misha said. “Good dinner?”
“Yeah,” JT said. “It was pretty good.” He kissed Misha’s forehead. “Did you call your family?”
Misha grimaced. “Yeah. It’s okay. My mom yelled, and my dad cried. I expect it’s opposite. But they said they worry so much and miss me and they happy to hear from me. So I think it’s good.” He sighed. “We don’t talk much. It’s lots of crying, and I don’t want to say too much, like how maybe I go to jail. I’ll call again soon and tell them more.”
JT inspected him more closely. Now that he was looking, Misha’s eyes and nose did seem a little red and swollen. “That sounds like it went pretty well.”
“I guess.” Misha sighed. “Yeah. It went okay. I miss them a lot, you know. My parents.” He gestured with one hand. “My family. I feel—I don’t know how to say.”
“Yeah. I get it. I’m sure it was pretty emotional.” JT kissed Misha’s forehead again, filled with sympathy. Misha had been through so much. “You want to watch something? We can chill for a while and make it an early night.”
“You want cuddle,” Misha accused, then looked at JT with his eyes wide the way he thought made him look cute. “Love Island?”
Unfortunately, JT did in fact find him adorable. “We can watchoneepisode of Love Island.”
“Two episodes,” Misha said, and JT laughed and rolled his eyes, knowing he was going to give in. What a stupid show.
He didn’t mind too much when he had Misha draped half on top of him like a blanket, from time to time laughing or making disapproving noises at whatever was happening on the screen. TV was good for his English; that was JT’s excuse for being such a sucker. He played with Misha’s hair and vegged out. He had a lot on his mind, and it was soothing to stare at the TV for a while and think about nothing in particular.