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"Misha?" Aidan asked, clearly sensing that I knew something he didn’t.
I cleared my throat. "He's friends with Maxim."
His eyes flared wide. "Are you kidding me?"
"No, I'm not."
"You know him?" Dad asked carefully.
"I do," Aidan growled, storming forward without waiting for an invitation into the house.
My husband was oddly polite, and beyond respectful with my parents, so his behavior was out of character and definitely protective.
Touched that he was trying to defend Aspen, I rushed after him and found him calling out, "Misha, where the fuck are you?"
The brown head I'd seen back at Aoife's bakery poked out of a room.
He frowned at Aidan. "I mean no harm."
"What the hell does that mean?" I grumbled. What kind of a greeting was that?
"How dare you talk to my boyfriend that way?" Aspen was sniping, darting around Aidan like a pesky poodle intent on biting his ankles.
Aidan ignored her, so did I, and he stalked over, grabbed Misha by the collar, and shoved him into the wall.
As Aspen squeaked and squawked, my parents watched on in bewilderment as Aidan snarled, "You fucking hurt her, I'll bring the might of the Points down on your head. Do you hear me? She’s goddamn family."
Trying not to shiver, I shot Mom and Dad a look. Both of them looked a combination of amused and concerned, whereas Paris, who was leaning over the railing, drawled, "I can see why you like him, Savvie. You always did get boners for power."
"Do you remember when she had a crush on Gorbachev?" Mom inquired with a soft chuckle.
Misha and Aidan didn't hear me whine, "Shut up, Mom!" They were, thank God, both in a world of their own.
"I mean her no harm," Misha was telling my husband on repeat while Aspen was dragging on Aidan's sleeve like she could get him off her boyfriend.
I could have told her that there was no moving Aidan unless he wanted to be moved.
When she shot me a pleading glance, it resonated with me.
More than I’d like.
I’d been second-guessing myself since Cassie had left, a lot on edge, and that resulted in me questioning my reactions and interactions with people.
Namely, what had I said or done to make Cassie run away? If anything happened to her, it was my fault. So, softly,doubtfully, I said, "Aidan, maybe he means well."
Aspen, for the first time in fucking years, shot me a grateful look.
"You can kill him if he fucks up," I offered next, earning myself a glower frommy sister.
"What a promise," Camden taunted, stepping into the room with a bottle of milk in his hand. "Hey, sis. Hey, insane brother-in-law."
"Aidan isn't insane," I argued before, deciding to change the topic and hoping to calm Aidan down, I pointed my finger at him. "I need you to do me a favor."
"Me? What do you want?"
"I need backstage passes for your next concert in New York."
Warily, he asked, "Is that all?"
"Well, that and something else. But we can talk about that later."
Though he narrowed his eyes at me in suspicion, he just drank some more milk. "Okay, I'm going to the recording studio, Dad. Want to come strum some tunes with me and escape…" He glanced over at Misha and Aidan and waggled the bottle. "…whatever this is?"
Dad nodded but asked Mom, "Everything okay here?"
Her gaze on Aidan who was still holding Misha against the wall, Mom shot a smile at him and patted his chest. "I think we'll be fine."
