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He says nothing.
I lean over to speak closer to his face. He smells fresh with that hint of mint and bottomless ocean. “I’m talking to you.”
“And I’m not,” he says ever so casually.
I’m about to say something else when Lewis Knight comes down the stairs. I wince, realising Xander and I might have been loud while his father is here.
Then I recall how Kir walked in on us – which was way worse. Wrestling? Really? Surely I could’ve thought of something better. I hope we didn’t scar my baby brother for life and he believes the wrestling story.
Lewis is about to head straight to the door but stops when he notices us. A rare smile lifts his face as he approaches us.
“Hey, young man.” He snatches a tissue and wipes the chocolate on Kirian’s cheek.
“That’s right, Uncle.” Kir grins, showing his growing teeth. “I’m a man. Tell everyone else.”
Both Lewis and I smile.
Xander doesn’t. He gives us his back as he fusses with the coffee machine. His rigid, stiff back that seems about ready to burst out of his T-shirt.
“How are you, Kim?” Lewis asks me with a warm expression, another thing that’s so atypical of him to show.
He’s known as a powerful politician with strict decisions. That’s why he gets along so well with Silver’s dad.
Despite his average appearance, he has an eloquent tongue and a charisma that makes up tenfold for the looks. Xan only took after him in the shape of the eyes, perhaps. Which is also similar to Kirian’s.
I always joked to Xander when we were kids that Kirian looks like him, not me.
Wait.
No. I shake my head. That’s absolutely not possible.
Go away, stupid thoughts.
I fake a smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“How are Calvin and Jeanine?”
Why the hell are you asking about them? I know why. Because they were always some kind of friends, especially Dad and Lewis; they sort of grew up together, went to the same school – RES – the same university, and the same damn world.
However, my mind is spiralling to a completely wrong direction right now.
“T-they’re good.”
Xander glances back at me as soon as I stammer, his brows drawn together, then reverts his attention to Kirian, who’s completely oblivious to the tension brewing in the air.
Lewis wipes Kirian’s cheek again. I try to unsee the scene in front of me, of Lewis’s doting gesture or his smile that’s as extinct as a passing unicorn, but I can’t. It’s impossible.
It’s all that’s brewing in my mind right now.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Lewis tells me.
“What do you mean?” I try not to sound spooked or on the verge of blurting these thoughts I don’t completely understand myself.
His expression returns to normal as if realising how many times he slipped, smiled, appeared damn doting. “With Kirian or anything.”
“Okay.” No way.
He throws a disapproving glance at Xander, then his bandaged hand. It’s uncanny how much he can communicate with only his eyes. He was welcoming with Kirian and me, but he’s obviously pissed off with his son.
