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Luca nodded and started away, but he hesitated. “My brother and Noah are coming into town for Noah’s birthday. You should come to the dinner.”
Dmitri’s cheeks flushed, and he shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Raphael’s coming,” Luca said, and there was something in his tone Dmitri couldn’t quite read—or more accurately, didn’t want to. He was tired of false hope. All the same, he knew what Luca wasn’t saying.
“I’m sure I’ll be there.” A concession, which was enough to pacify the other man.
Giving the counter a quick double pat, Luca headed to the office, and ten minutes later Dmitri heard the back door shut and lock. His shoulders lost some of their tension now that he was alone, and he heaved the mixing bowl over to the counter where he began to meticulously scoop and pour until all the trays were filled.
He didn’t enjoy this job more, but he appreciated the routine of it when things felt off kilter or overwhelming. Knowing what to do, relying on muscle memory instead of needing to think, allowed him to breathe a bit better. Life was changing, but he didn’t need to bow under the pressure of it.
Just as the oven beeped to let him know it had reached temp, there was a soft rapping at the back door, and Dmitri didn’t even need to check the security cameras to know who it was. He slipped the trays in, then set the timer before hustling down the corridor and turning the knob.
Raphael was there, leaning on his crutches with a paper bag dangling from his teeth, and Dmitri took it as he stepped aside for the other man to enter. “It smells so good in here. I hope you have something to feed me.”
Dmitri frowned, following him back into the kitchen. Raphael wasn’t particularly a fan of sweets—his diet was incredibly specific and very low in sugar. Wilder usually kept at least two flavors of sugar and gluten free for him on hand, but Raphael rarely ate them. Sugar cravings usually meant stress for Raphael though, and Dmitri let out a tiny sigh as he laid the bag on the supply table.
“Are you here to talk about it or eat your feelings?”
Raphael lifted a brow at him. “I’m here to bring my very good friend some dinner because I haven’t seen him in nearly a week and he’s not having cupcakes to sustain him.”
Dmitri sagged forward a little, then pulled open the bag. Familiar scents from Adam’s restaurant floated out, and it warmed him slightly. TheLofty Latkewas still around, but now thatL’Chaimhad opened its doors, people spent more time there. It was hard to pass up the waterfront views and the quiet atmosphere, and Adam’s food had always drawn crowds.
But Dmitri rarely had time or money to indulge, and his mouth watered now at the sight of the two plastic containers filled with rice and chicken. “Shawarma?”
“There’s falafel in there too,” Raphael said, digging around in one of the drawers. He produced two forks, then leaned on one crutch as he dragged a stool over to sit as Dmitri cocked his hip up against the counter. “So, you eat, and then you tell me everything.”
Dmitri pried the lid off and took a whiff of the rich spices before looking at his friend. “There’s literally nothing to tell.”
“University for the first time,” Raphael started, but Dmitri scoffed.
“It’s community college.”
“I don’t know why you insist on that. What’s the word,” Raphael said, his brow furrowed. Dmitri noticed he looked tired, and a little far off, which meant he might have seized—or might be close to it. Worry gripped him, but he knew Raphael wouldn’t appreciate him fussing. “You talk down about it,” he said after a moment, waving his hand. It wasn’t often he had trouble with English, but sometimes Dmitri kind of liked the reminders that he wasn’t from Savannah. That he’d lived a rich, full life long before he set foot there.
“I’m not doing that.” Dmitri took a bite, then moved to the walk-in to grab a couple of waters Wilder kept stocked. He cracked the tops on both, then passed one to the other man. “I just mean it’s not the same. It’s a tiny campus, and the classes are super small. I couldn’t get lost if I tried.”
“If anyone can,” Raphael said, then he winked and Dmitri flushed. “Have you made any friends?”
At that, Dmitri rolled his eyes. “No,Dad, but I’m sure there’s still time.”
Raphael’s cheeks pinked, and he opened up the falafel container, handing one over before taking a bite of his own. The teasing settled into comfortable silence, then Raphael sighed. “I worry, of course. I don’t want you to be alone and miserable.”
“I’m not miserable when I’m alone,” Dmitri argued—and it was a half lie. His brain wasn’t always kind when left to its own devices, but a few months working at the ranger station had helped him find a sort of inner peace he hadn’t been expecting, and that carried itself to campus. “I have two hours between my morning and afternoon classes. The campus is pretty, and there’s shaded tables. I can eat, read, do homework. Trust me, it’s a lot better than high school.”
Raphael set his elbow on the table and leaned his chin into his hand. He looked even more tired then, the bags under his eyes more pronounced, and Dmitri didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled. “And your professors?”
“Normal,” he said. “There’s a couple of boring ones and a couple of nice ones.”
“And Roman’s going to give you the time off when you need to study?”
Dmitri set his fork down and crossed his arms. “Seriously, what is going on? I have my aunts and Jayden to give me this talk.”
Raphael passed a hand down his face. “Dmitri,” he started, grinning when Dmitri’s eyes narrowed. “I want you to be happy. You could make friends there and not be tied to some miserable old secretary…”
“Jayden would kick your ass if he heard you call the position a secretary,” Dmitri warned, but Raphael looked unrepentant.
“Savannah hasn’t always been kind to you, but it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve kindness.”
