Yeah, right. “Just be careful.”
“Always,” he whispered, eyes moving around the room and not staying anywhere in particular as I began guzzling my water. “So, my dad.” He cleared his throat. “Well anyway, he stopped by the kitchen this morning and asked if I’d join him and my mom for lunch. I told him I had plans already for brunch…”
I blinked, watching as his eyes flittered everywhere but me. “It’s alright if you’re cancelling. I can just meet with King Fergus earlier.”
His eyes did meet mine then. With a bit of irritation. “You’re still going to meet with him?”
My eyebrows rose, but I whispered, “He’s lonely. I was lonely. We’ve become…friends, I guess. I’m not going to leave him hanging when he needs someone.” I shrugged, drinking from my water bottle again. “Plus, it’s fun.”
His lips pinched, but he didn’t say anything further about King Fergus. “I wasn’t cancelling our brunch.” His fingers tapped on the bleacher. “My dad asked who I had plans with,” he paused, clearing his throat, “and I told him you.” Another pause. “He somehow manipulated the situation to where he and my mom are now joining us.”
I stared. “You didn’t.”
“Not on purpose,” he groused, sitting forward and rubbing his neck. “He got the better of me.”
Goddamn Cahal and his wily ways. “Well,” I guzzled the rest of my water, “I think I’m not feeling well.”
Ezra shook his head. “Don’t try to back out. It’ll only arouse his suspicion more.”
I groaned, chucking the empty water bottle into my bag, which I then zipped up. “I’m all disgusting and stinky. If I’m going to,” Christ, “have a meal with your parents, I would prefer to be clean.” I paused. “And possibly drunk.”
He glanced at his watch. “No time for either.” He stood, grabbing my bag and tossing it over his shoulder. “We’re meeting them in ten minutes.”
“Perfect,” I mumbled, walking with him as I tried to fix my ponytail, half my hair wet from sweat. “Maybe I’ll stink them out.”
He chuckled. “Vampires, sweetheart. Not Shifters.”
“Any clue why he wanted to have lunch with you?”
He peered at me, eyes roaming my face. “Just to have lunch.”
“Oh.” I glanced forward. It had been so long since a parent figure wanted to have a meal with me just for the mutual pleasure of it that I had forgotten families actually did that. “Right.”
I could still feel his eyes on me as we wound through the Mysticals, who were watching us warily since we weren’t arguing, and he finally asked, “Did you and your mom have a favorite place to eat?”
My smile was soft. The hurt of her death was no longer unbearable. “At home. She loved to cook.” My grin increased, memories invading. “She used to slap at Antonio’s hands when he tried getting to the food before it was ready.” I chuckled. “I remember a few times when he chased her around the kitchen while she held a bowl of cookie dough like it was a football. She would always threaten to beat him over the head with her skillet when it got to that point.”
“Sounds nice,” he murmured, standing close to me when the walkway became too crowded. “We ate out a lot since my mom could burn water she was so awful at cooking. Our favorite place was this little Italian restaurant with the most hideous red décor, but the food was amazing. We’d go there every Wednesday night for family night, no matter our schedules.”
I blinked. “Is it Wednesday?” Time had blurred here, days becoming weeks as we waited, at the brink of war, in this sanctuary.
“I don’t know,” he said absently. A pause. “We should get a calendar so we’re not oblivious.”
I nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly as we paused before the dining hall’s doors. “Show time.”
Ezra grunted and then inhaled deeply, opening the door for me.
It was deja vu all over again as the place went quiet when we entered. Ezra and I ignored them the best we could as we peered around the dining hall. Leave it to a scary-ass mom to embarrass her son fully by shouting from the far corner, “Ezra, dear!” She waved grandly. “We’re over here!”
My lips pinched in an effort not to laugh as Ezra sighed, giving her a little wave as everyone’s heads flew back and forth between mom and son, watching. He pointed at the buffet, and herded me in that direction, just as we heard his mom state loudly and gruffly to the entire packed dining hall, “Show’s over, people. Eat your damn food and quit gawking.”
A chuckle did escape me as Ezra sighed again, rubbing his face, cheeks pink. “Aw, she loves you.”
“Damn embarrassing,” he muttered, grabbing two plates. “I’ll never hear the end of it from the Vamps.”
I snorted, and whispered as the dining hall began to resonate with quiet chatter, “Just threaten to invite your mom to their gatherings and they’ll shut up.”