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“I’m sure you will have fun.”
I hoped so. That wasn’t what I wanted to discuss, however. “Apparently, you have a brother you never told me about.”
He stiffened. Finally, a reaction from him.
“Who is he?” I asked when he kept silent. “You know I’m going to keep pestering you about it until you crack, right?”
A lopsided grin was his answer. “That doesn’t work on me like it does on Viking and the twins.”
“Perhaps,” I conceded, “but you’d still find it annoying nonetheless. I’ll follow you all over the house until I get answers. You’ll end up wanting to pull out your hair…or mine.”
His hand shot out and caressed the curls falling around my shoulders. I didn’t know which one of us was more surprised by the gesture.
“I’d never pull out your hair.”
If I were to equate a voice with chocolate, Kristoff’s would be the dark kind. Simply decadent and delicious. My eyes landed on his firm lips. I remembered their scent, their touch, as if our one and only kiss had happened just yesterday.
“Hector.”
“Hmm?” I wanted to close the distance between us. My blood heated, urging me to lock lips with him.
“My brother’s name.”
I forced myself to look into his eyes. It wasn’t easy. His hand was still in my hair, softly massaging the back of my head.
“How come you’ve never mentioned him before?” If this place was like a fortress, Kristoff’s background was an impenetrable vault.
He pulled his hand back, and I immediately missed the contact.
“We didn’t grow up together. I only learned about him after my mother died.”
“You don’t have the same mother,” I guessed.
His lips thinned. “We share a sperm donor.”
Another thing he’d never discussed: his father. “And who is that?” I asked carefully.
“No one important.”
Now that sounded like a can of worms I didn’t want to touch. Not yet at least.
“When am I going to meet your brother?”
“You probably won’t. Hector execrates me.”
“Execrates?”
“It means to hate.”
“You could’ve just said that,” I grumbled. “There’s no need for fancy words.”
“And deprive me of the chance to use the word of the day?”
I groaned. “Not you too.” The word of the day calendar had been a continual object of conflict between the twins.
“You should join in.”
“As if I could,” I said. Angel and Damon didn’t recognize anyone else who dared try to play with them. Their competition went so far sometimes that they instigated scenarios just so they could use a certain word.
