“He helped train you?”
“It’s usually the older siblings who do the training if they’re around. If it’s an older sister, she’s the one to raise the younger Neph. Kope and his brothers were raised by a sister. She’s gotta be pretty old, too, by now.”
“Who else has siblings?”
“Not Kai. His last sister was killed when he was real young. She was in her thirties, and some stalker dude she was dating murdered her. I’m not sure, but I think Pharzuph’s kid before her was a sister, too, and she got pregnant.”
I didn’t need to ask what happened to her or the baby. It put my stomach in knots to think of the cruelty of the Dukes.
I didn’t ask any more about siblings. In my mind family should share a certain bond, but we clearly weren’t dealing with the same dynamics as human brothers and sisters, with the exception of Marna and Ginger.
“So . . .” I cleared my throat. “You have a girlfriend, huh?”
He sniffed and switched hands on the steering wheel.
“Yeah. Kai’s always busting my balls.” He tried to keep his voice light, but I sensed the slight falter in his words. “It’s something to do, you know?”
Something to do. Right.
“You love her?”
“Nah. I mean, she’s cool. She’s got issues, but she can be sweet. We have fun.”
“But . . . why not just date? What made you decide to be with one girl all this time?”
He took off his hat and rumpled his shiny black hair, driving right-handed.
“It’s the only thing my pop’s ever demanded.” He sighed, a sad and defeated sound. “He says I need a trophy wife, and it has to look perfect to the outside world. I’ve been dragging my feet about it, but I can’t put it off much longer. After ten years or so, he’ll want me to trade her in for a younger model. My brother’s on his fourth wife now.”
I closed my eyes, shaking my head.
“Don’t say anything to Ginger,” he said quietly. “I want to hold off as long as possible.”
That, I could understand. Even if the marriage was forced, it would still change things. Knowing Blake was attached to another girl in such an intimate way would drive Ginger insane.
“Well,” I said, needing to lighten the mood for him, “next time Kai tries to, um, bust your balls, you can give it right back to him, because he’s got a girlfriend now, too.”
His almond eyes rounded for a moment and he held out his fist.
I bumped his knuckles with mine and he started snickering, bringing that same fist to his mouth.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“You said balls.”
“Shut up.” I hit his arm, unable to keep the smile from my face as he cracked up.
“For real, though,” he said. “I’m glad you two are together. He’s been such a punk, all heartbroken and shi—iiiz.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not this again, Blake.”
“I’m tryin’ to be good! Consider it a personal challenge to myself.” He grinned. “And I meant what I said about you and Kai. You just gotta be careful. I worry about him when it comes to . . . you know.”
“What?” I asked. “Work?” Or lack of . . .
He nodded, appearing serious.
“I know,” I agreed. “Me, too.”
We made it to Kaidan’s apartment in record time. Part of me wanted to curl up in his soft sheets and nap, but Blake wasn’t having any of that. He went to the entertainment center and when he hit the power button we both jumped back at the ear-blasting, screaming lyrics: “Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage . . .” Blake fumbled for the volume control while I winced. “Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved . . .”
He finally figured it out, cutting off the jarring song.
“Dude,” Blake mumbled to himself while he sifted through the music, “someone’s got anger issues.”
He found something with a techno beat. The sound of it immediately started his feet moving, followed by his arms and hands in smooth motions.
“That’s more like it. You ever dance, Anna?”
Oh, gosh. I liked to dance, but I remembered Blake breaking it down on the dance floor at that New Year’s party in Atlanta. He had definite moves that put my hip-shaking, arm-waving “dancing” to shame.
“I don’t know,” I said as he moved closer, taking my hands. I wanted to pull away and break into giggles. Jumping from a plane might be less embarrassing than this.
He moved one hand around to the small of my back, bringing us closer. When our thighs and hips met, it felt unnatural to stay still while he was in motion. My body tried to match his, which matched the beat of the song. The next thing I knew, we were dancing. It was sexy, but not sexual. It made me feel good to move, but I knew his intentions were only friendly.