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11
Jocelin
Dinnerisaraucousaffair, with lots of laughing and stories from when the Osoufs were kids. Even Jules joins in, sharing a few adventures of camping with Stef and Erik that had us all in stitches. We consume copious quantities of paella, and I follow it up by eating my weight in flan and Mrs. Clarke’s butter cookies. By the time we’re done with dinner, I’m ready to burst but very satisfied. “Erik, the meal was amazing. Thank you so much.”
“Yes, thank you.” Bjorn leans over and kisses his head, and Erik nudges him, pretending to be annoyed but smiling. “If everyone’s finished, why don’t you head into the living room and relax?”
We all get up to begin clearing the table, but as I grab my plate, Astrid takes it from me and hands it to Gunnar. “Here, I need to borrow your boyfriend for a minute.” I’m about to say we’re not boyfriends, but we’re practicing for the party at Alistair’s. And thisisa kind of date. I know he’s attracted to me, but even if this is a legitimate date, it certainly doesn’t equate to boyfriend status, much as the idea appeals. “Come on, Jocelin. I have something to show you.” I glance at Gunnar, who protests, but Astrid holds up her hand. “Bjorn, come corral your brother. Jocelin needs to see some family photos.”
Gunnar groans. “Astrid! No!” She laughs and steers me toward the living room.
“It’s a family tradition. I have the albums right here.” She winks conspiratorially and pulls me down the hall into the enormous room. The decor is ultra-modern, with three long cream-colored leather sofas arranged in a “U” shape and a huge dark brown square coffee table in the center. Directly across from the sofas is the largest television I’ve ever seen, set flush into the wall.
“Holy huge television.” I stare at it, transfixed.
Astrid laughs. “Ah, that’s Bjorn’s baby. You have no idea how much time he spends in front of that stupid thing, playing video games and watching movies. Well, in fairness, it’s mostly video games. Anyway, come on. Let’s sit down, and I’ll show you things Gunnar wishes you’d never see.” She grins wickedly and pulls me onto the nearest sofa. I’m barely settled when she plops a thick photo album onto my lap and starts flipping pages.
We look through the typical newborn pictures and photos of a first birthday party. I grin at pudgy baby Gunnar, hands and face full of birthday cake, looking so proud of himself. “Awww, he was adorable.”
Gunnar pokes his head into the room. “I still am.”
Astrid snorts. “Eavesdrop much?”
He nods his head in my direction. “I need to make sure you’re not ruining my chances of keeping him around.”
That makes me blush, and I can’t help the goofy smile I know I’m wearing. “Not possible.”
Astrid puts a hand over her heart. “Oh my god, you guys are too cute. Now, go away, Gunnar. We’re busy.” She turns the page past photos of a family outing at the zoo and starts laughing. “Oh he’s going to kill me for this one.”
“Hey!” I look up to see Gunnar halfway down the hall, turning back toward the living room. “Astrid, what are you showing him?” His voice is annoyed and a bit panicked.
“Nothing Gunnar. It’s fine. I’m definitely not showing him any naked baby pictures of you.”
Gunnar scowls. “Oh, come on Astrid! You’re killing me!”
I know this is their dynamic, and they do truly love each other, but as an only child, I’m not used to this kind of arguing. It’s stressful, and I’m worried we’re really upsetting Gunnar. “Maybe we should stop if he doesn’t want me to see.”
She waves away my concern. “Nonsense. He’s just being dramatic. He really doesn’t care.”
Gunnar sighs and meets my gaze, his glower transforming into a sheepish smile. “It’s fine. Just don’t judge me too harshly.”
I shake my head. “Never.”
Astrid mutters something about being too sweet under her breath as Gunnar wanders back into the kitchen. I return my attention to the album as Astrid flips through the next few pages of school photos and birthday party pictures of the two of them. Bjorn and Erik are in a few shots, looking adorable, with their missing front teeth and big brother pride clearly on display. We get to a picture of Gunnar dressed in a white T-shirt, denim jeans, little biker boots, and a pair of mirrored sunglasses that are obviously far too large for his face. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and it’s so close to the outfit he’s wearing today, I have to laugh. I point at the picture. “So, not much has changed in the fashion department.”
“Astrid, whatever you are showing Jocelin, just stop.” I snap my head around to find Gunnar lounging against the doorframe, arms crossed. He looks more amused than upset, and I feel the weight of my worry lift.
I wave him over, and he sits behind me, on the back of the couch, his hand resting on my shoulder. Leaning my head on his thigh, I look up at him. “If you’d rather I didn’t see these, we’ll stop.”
He brushes his knuckle along my cheek and smiles down at me. “Nah. It’s fine. I just like to give Astrid shit.”
She snorts. “It’s his thing. He gives us all shit.”
Bjorn comes in from the kitchen and nudges Gunnar’s shoulder as he walks past and plops down on the couch. “And then he wonders why we all give it back.”
Laughter from the hallway precedes Erik, Jules, and Gary. They join us in the living room, and now the massive seating arrangement makes sense. Gunnar kneads my shoulder and the muscles melt under the pressure. I hadn’t even realized I was tense. He leans down, his whiskers tickling the edge of my ear, as his warm breath ghosts over my skin, making me shiver. “Are you okay? You’re so tense. I’m not really mad about you looking at the pictures. I promise.”
His proximity is too tempting. I turn my face into his and lean closer. “I didn’t want to upset you.”
