Page 7

I do my best to release the sigh slowly so no one thinks I’m bothered by Sam’s request that I tell them about my parents.

I’m not, I know I’m not. It’s just... new.

It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about them to anyone who isn’t my therapist or Milton—even my friends. They didn’t know them, and even with Ru, who did meet my parents a dozen times, I couldn’t speak about them.

But these are practical strangers; they don’t know me.

Well, Ed Trent clearly had a bad impression of me when he met me at Mike and Theo’s wedding—and who could blame him—but now I think we’re on way better terms than when he first recognized me.

I have to hand it to him, he didn’t have one ounce of hesitation when he confronted me on my drinking. I like that in a person.

I go to sit only after everyone left standing is by their chairs, and I end up between Ed and London with Liam right in front of me.

As far as I can tell, he’s wearing the same white button-down he was wearing at the airport.

Unlike London and me, he hasn’t changed, but his light brown hair—the exact same shade as his brothers—looks unrulier than before, like he’s finger combed it a lot.

That’s the only visible sign that he’s maybe not had the easiest day, but otherwise he looks perfectly put together.

I can tell he’s like me and has to shave every morning if he wants to remain clean shaven, because like me, he already has a little bit of scruff covering his cheeks and around his mouth.

For the life of me, I can’t figure out what he’s thinking, though. He stares at me with a tilt to his head. I can’t blame him for his reaction to me at the airport. I understand perfectly well how protective older brothers can be, I’ve seen it firsthand with a bunch of my friends.

But ever since I got here he hasn’t said a word, he’s just been staring impassively at me, and I can’t figure out if that’s good or not.

“Sure,” I finally answer Sam—and honestly having Samantha Sawyer ask me to call her Sam is a life highlight for sure. “My father worked for a consulting firm,” I start out while I put the napkin on my lap. “And my mother was an opera singer.”

“That’s amazing,” Sam says, and I can tell she means it.

“She was,” I agree wholeheartedly. “She performed with the London Opera for many years.”

“Was your mother Sana Din?” Liam asks, finally speaking and drawing my eyes back to him. This time it’s easy to interpret his expression—pure awe .

“She was,” I answer in a low voice, but there’s emotion in my words, which is something I was hoping to avoid.

Bloody hell, get your shit together, I tell myself.

Without meaning to, I press my left thumb to my right palm, focusing on that instead of the ball that appeared suddenly in my throat. But I make myself keep looking at Liam, even while he won’t quite meet my eyes. He’s looking in my direction, but I can feel that he’s not making direct eye contact.

“That was Mum,” I whisper, hoping to fill the once again awkward silence—some dinner guest I am. Jesus.

“I love her voice,” Liam says vehemently, and his eyes shift to mine just for a fraction of a second.

I see the caramel in the center of his irises, surrounded by that brilliant blue.

They really are striking. “And I got to meet her once when she came to give a visiting workshop on opera for the singers’ class at Juilliard. ”

“You studied at Juilliard?” I ask, seriously impressed now, though I have no idea what I thought he did for a living. But now that I think about it, being the son—and he was the only son for many years—of two musicians as successful as his parents, that makes perfect sense.

Liam’s eyes aren’t even close to me then, though. He focuses firmly on the roast being carved by his father as he nods.

“Piano and sound production,” Ed pipes up, with his mouth twisted in a concentrated grimace, but the pride rings true in his words.

“Wow,” is all I can say. I don’t know a lot about the music industry, and less still about Juilliard, but I know it can’t be easy to get in, let alone to study two different subjects.

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” London pipes up. “Let’s get back to where we left off on the plane. Is Rupert Cardew really your best friend?” she asks while she hands her plate to her father.

“He’s one of them,” I confirm with a nod, and the soft smile as I look at her is inevitable.

She clearly cares more about lords than athletes.

“I hadn’t seen him since we graduated school—high school you would say here—but we’ve known each other since we were eight, so we picked right up where we left off when we bumped into each other. ”

It’s way easier talking about Ru and any of my friends than it is to talk about my parents, and it’s definitely easier looking at London than Liam.

“Is he really that handsome?” she demands.

“London,” Liam chides her from across the table. She doesn’t even acknowledge him, just keeps interrogating me.

“Is his hair as soft as it looks in pictures?” There’s a low, unashamedly fanatical tone in her voice this time, and despite myself, my lips twitch.

I nod as I take my fork and knife. “I don’t think I’ve ever combed his hair or... touched it for that matter, but it looks great in person.”

London smiles dreamily, and I look around to see everyone else at the table is eating already, so I dig right in and barely suppress a moan.

“It’s so good,” I tell Sam as soon as I swallow the first bite.

“I’m glad you like it.” She smiles warmly at me.

“Okay, my turn,” Larson, the second youngest I believe, says with wide eyes. “I think your other friends are far more impressive. Tell me everything about Adam Darnell,” he demands, or... begs? Maybe, I have no clue, but I don’t mind.

“Jesus Christ,” I hear Liam mutter, and see he’s frowning down at his plate.

I clear my throat, not knowing how to interpret Liam just now, but get back to Larson.

“Adam is the bravest person I’ve ever met.” I think that’s the most important thing I can say about him, and Larson’s smile and big eyes that are the same shade as Liam’s, but shine differently, tell me he wants more.

“He’s also the most talented football player ever,” he exaggerates, but I have to wince. “What? You don’t think he’s the best?” he asks, looking alarmed.

“I have way too many good friends who are football players to answer that. I think Derek’s amazing as well.”

“You mean Derek Johnson?” Ed asks. “He plays safety for LA.”

“That’s right,” I confirm.

“He’s married to Hawk Storm. Are you close with them too?”

“Oh, yes I am. I’ve known Derek almost since we all started at Cavendish.

He became quick friends with Adam because of football and I did the same because of classes.

He brought all his friends together, and so I know all of them pretty well.

Though I don’t get to see Derek and Hawk nearly as much as I’d wish, I’m actually flying to California tomorrow for another friend’s birthday and I’ll see all of them there. ”

“Wolf’s boyfriend, CJ,” Ed says. “London told us you went to pick up a gift for him. ”

“Yeah, I couldn’t think of anything and she helped me pick out the perfect gift.”

Because for... whatever reason I feel so attuned to him, I notice the second Liam’s body freezes, and then when his gaze lands on me.

It’s like a shot of attention straight to my veins, and a bit exhilarating if I’m honest. So I don’t look away from Ed in the hopes that Liam will keep looking directly at me.

“We’re also going,” Sam suddenly says, and it takes my brain a second to latch on.

“To CJ’s party?” I ask, just to make sure, and she nods. “All the kids were invited too, since we’ve been close to the Storm boys all their lives, but none of them can make it this?—”

“I’m going,” Liam interrupts his mother with a shout that finally makes me look at him again.

He’s staring intently at Sam who’s sitting next to him.

“What?” She reels back, a frown on her face. “But you said?—”

“That I’d go,” he interrupts her again. Then they’re staring at each other for a long time, and I go back to eating, hoping to figure out why I feel like shifting on my seat suddenly.

“That’s right, I’m sorry sweetheart, it must’ve slipped my mind,” I hear Sam tell Liam in a very motherly tone. This time there’s a different reason completely why I don’t look up, but something tells me I’m supposed to say something.

“Then I’ll see you on Saturday as well.” I make sure to infuse all the cheer I can muster in my words so it makes up for me not looking up and piling on food like a starving man.

“You will,” Ed says, and then he thankfully takes the attention away from me and asks London about her time in England .

She already told me all about it on the plane, so I use the time to get a good grip on my emotions. When I feel in control again and look up, it’s to see Liam staring right into my soul. This time he holds eye contact for two seconds, and then we both look away.

The sun isn’t even out yet when we take off on Theo’s dad’s private jet, and everyone is exhausted.

There’s complete silence in the cabin, and I don’t mind it one bit, though it was surprising when Sebas didn’t even ask me why I didn’t go to the gallery yesterday.

He told me it was fine when I texted, and assured me he never expected me to work after my transatlantic flight, just like Rachel, the other manager of CJ’s gallery told me she has everything under control.

But it is unusual for Sebas not to be nosy, and now that I look at him, sleeping with his mouth wide open and his head resting on Adam’s shoulder, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sebas so early in all the years I’ve known him.

I’m smart enough to know he’s going to interrogate the hell out of me when he’s feeling more human.

Their daughter, Daniela—Dani for short—is sleeping peacefully in the crib attached to the front wall, while Mike, Theo, and their two dogs, take up the back of the plane on the two couches.