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And based on his expression, he truly did find it odd.
“Why? We take our cues from Astrid and what makes her happy.” I shrugged. Her recent induction into anything sexual also played a role into what we have and haven’t done, but that wasn’t information Angel needed to know.
“Ah, so that means you do want to cross swords.” He snickered, letting me know he was also joking.
“You can believe what you want.” I rubbed my palm down my jeans. I was glad I’d gotten to see Astrid and the guys this morning. I slept like hell, woke up way too early, and with everything going on, I should have had the apartment cleaned up three times over by now. “What’s up?”
“Dad wanted to know what time you’re coming by. He mixed up the days and thought it was yesterday.”
“Oh shit.” I didn’t want to see a disappointed Graves if he thought I stood them up. “He’s cool now?”
“Yeah,” he said as he waved a hand. “When he mentioned it, I set him straight. Also, not cool that you guys went to the pizza place without inviting me. I’m there almost every evening at least checking on things and you bastards go the one night that I was off.”
I laughed. “Sorry, man. It was a last minute decision. We didn’t end up staying too long. There was…I guess you could call them paparazzi…in the parking lot and it was making us antsy.” It felt weird to call them that, but hiding in bushes and behind cars in hopes of getting a money shot meant that was exactly what they were.
“You have got to be shitting me.” Angel snapped forward in his seat. “A paparazzi? At one of our places?”
“Uh…yeah?” He got angry quick. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with his reaction.
“I’ll tell Dad and we’ll take care of it. When you’re on one of our properties, you won’t have to worry about anyone getting dirt on you guys. Did they get any pictures?”
“Yeah, but not there.” I pulled up the articles. In all honesty, I’d never closed them out of the browser. I wasn’t sure why I was keeping them at my fingertips, but I was.
He stretched forward to grab the phone from my hand. His face turned redder with each passing second of reading the article. Then he handed the phone back. “You know, I just don’t understand people. Maybe I think differently because I had an unconventional childhood, but who the hell cares who people date. So what, his dad’s a rich prick who made terrible decisions. That has fuck all to do with Rhys. And goodie, they caught a few pics of him. Who the hell pays for that? Outside of you guys, who would even care?” he shook his head in disgust.
This time when I laughed it was a nervous titter. “I wish everyone thought like you. That would make our lives a lot easier.”
“How’s everybody taking it?”
I blew out a breath. “Well, surprisingly good. Astrid was almost nonchalant about it. Rhys is the only one worked up, and that’s probably because he feels like all this is because of him.”
“It is because of him, but it doesn’t matter. You all should give zero rat’s asses about what other people think." He glanced down at the scratched-up coffee table, then back up. “Jonah’s doing okay with everything? I know we haven’t been in his life the way we wanted to, but we checked in from time to time. He always struck me as someone who wanted to be anyone else.”
That was…eerily accurate. If I didn’t know Jonah, I wasn’t sure that was something I’d pick up on. It took a few times for me to be in his presence for longer than two minutes for me to come to that conclusion on my own.
“He’s fine. Since he started getting serious with Astrid, I think a bomb could land on his head and he’d smile through the whole thing.” I grinned. It was heartwarming watching him go through so much self-growth. I’d have to document it in portraits.
Hell, with the way I had painted the entire group for Christmas, and the side pieces I’d sketched, and in some cases started working on, I was essentially capturing our lives together in the form of artwork.
A warm trill climbed up my spine.
I’d never, not in a million years, would have thought this was a way I’d be using my art. Although, I wasn’t complaining.
Like most artists going through college, I had wanted the dream on the horizon that was just out of reach and a little too blurry to make out. The infamy of creating something heartbreaking, moving, thought provoking, or a combination of any of the above. Instead, I found more pleasure in art I’d most likely never show the world because it meant something different to me.
“Why are you smiling? You’re giving me weird vibes when we’re talking about my cousin.” Angel shivered but there was no seriousness in either his tone or body language.
“That did seem creepy, didn’t it?” I laughed, and it felt good on a day where so much of it had already been shit. Here was hoping the rest of the day was on the up and up. “I got lost in my head for a moment. I’d painted some pictures for Astrid at Christmas and I was thinking how I’d inadvertently taken over as the memory keeper.”
He whistled. “Damn, between you and Astrid, your family isn’t going to be able to forget anything. That sounds like a blessing and a curse.” Then he snickered. “You’ll paint it, Astrid will photograph it, Beck will write songs about it. I don’t know what Jonah would do.”
“He’d write it into a biography.” I slapped my leg, amused at how similar but different we all were. The odd one out was Rhys, but he was a talent in his own right.
“No shit? He writes?” His pulled his head back in surprise.
“It hasn’t been a burning lifelong passion, but he has recently found he’s great at words. Ask him to let you read his scholarship submission. You’ll see.”
I glanced at the clock again. “I need to be going.”
