We watch as his mother sits beside Nikolai and begins with pictures from the day she found out she was pregnant with the twins. We didn’t know they were twins at that time.
I remember that day so well. The joy that washed over us at the thought of having our own family was so palpable, I can still taste it on my tongue. It feels like yesterday, but it isn’t, because one of my first babies has his own life now and probably won’t call or text me when he needs a pick-me-up.
As Astrid tells Nikolai the story behind every picture, he listens carefully while looking at the album on his lap with keen interest.
Fucking creep.
Bran steps closer to me, his expression sheepish as he rubs the back of his neck and then speaks low so that I’m the only one who hears him. “Do you hate him that much, Dad?”
“Oh my, what gave you that impression?”
“You kind of made it obvious and, well, you’re still glaring at him.”
I break my staring contest with Nikolai’s skull. I figured if I glared hard enough, it’d crack and we’d be rid of the nuisance.
“I thought you said you weren’t together anymore?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
“I…thought so, too.” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s impossible to stay away from him. Believe me, I’ve tried. Multiple times. Each time, it only got harder, not easier, and I really can’t imagine my life without him in it anymore. I hurt him enough by denying my sexuality and him. He was patient and even agreed to see me in secret although he’s openly bi. I can’t hurt him anymore, that would be worse than causing pain to myself. The idea of losing him scares the shit out of me, Dad.”
Bloody hell.
I see it again. That look he had earlier. This time, it’s more intense as he stares at him.
He’s not afraid for him, he’s afraid of losing him.
The delinquent gangster motherfucker.
I knew that bastard Killian was trouble. Not only did he shove his unwanted presence into our lives, but now, there’s his cousin.
Though I admit Nikolai is a lot more well-mannered than that psycho.
Bran slides his attention back to me. “All my life, I thought I was one of those people who was meant to be alone, but he changed that. Single-handedly. He chased me and made it impossible to ignore him. He’s helped me become a better man—more balanced, less…agitated and lonely. He’s the only one for me. So…if you don’t hate him a lot, can you try to accept him? I love you and respect you a lot, Dad. You know how much your approval means to me.”
“Come here, son.” I half hug him. “I don’t actually hate him. I just don’t like the idea of him replacing me.”
“That’s impossible. No one can take your role in my life.” He steps back. “You’re also my only worthy kitchen mate. Nikolai can’t cook to save his life.”
“Pretty sure he can’t do much to save his life.”
“Tell me about it. He’s so unorganized, it drives me bonkers. He’ll be throwing everything around, leaving milk outside the fridge, and meditating underwater. He can’t even tell the difference between basil, oregano, and coriander. ‘They’re all grass’, he says. He also didn’t know who Agatha Christie was until recently. He barely knows who Zeus or most historical figures are. He said the only superior one is Hannibal because he was a badass general who nearly brought down an empire, and the rest of them don’t merit a place in his head. Can you believe that?”
My sigh is deep and fucking defeated. “You love him that much, huh?”
“Yeah—” He cuts himself off and his eyes widen as he swallows thickly. “I mean… I…I…”
“It’s fine.” I clutch his shoulder. “Take your time to come to terms with it. I know it’s scary, but it’ll get better.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I smile. “Let’s join them before your mother embarrasses you any further.”
He grins in return and we walk in as Astrid says, “That’s Jayden, or Jay for short.”
“A relative?” Nikolai asks.
“You could say that. He’s my stepsister’s half-brother and was Bran’s first crush.” She winks at our son and he shakes his head.
“First crush you say?” Nikolai’s tone turns mysterious as he looks at the picture in which Bran and Jay are wearing Minion jumpsuits, clutching each other by the shoulders and grinning with glee.
“Yeah,” my wife says, completely unaware of the fire of jealousy igniting in Nikolai’s gaze. “Bran went through that phase of obsessing about everything Minion and Jay was his partner in crime.”
“Hmm. And where is he now?”
“In the States. He’s the youngest hotshot NASA scientist. I’m so proud of him.”
“Is he at the headquarters or one of the other field centers?”
“Headquarters, I believe.”
“Good to know. Is he Jayden Clifford?”
“No, Adler.”
“Jayden Adler. DC. Cool.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
He sounds like a damn mafioso who’s collecting information about a potential target.
Astrid keeps showing him other photos, but Bran definitely picked up on the energy, because he says, “Jay and I haven’t really seen each other much over the years. He’s a genius student and barely has time for anything but studying.”
Nikolai shows a poker face for the first time today. “Did I say anything?”
“Don’t even think about it,” Bran says low, but I hear him.
“No idea what you’re talking about.”
“Nikolai,” he warns.
“Yes?” He smiles and I want to punch him, but I can’t, because my son loves this twat.
Nikolai hides his yawn. “Excuse me. I came straight from the States and couldn’t sleep on the plane.”
“Oh my word.” Astrid closes the album. “Bran, you should take him to rest.”
“No.” Nikolai holds on to the album. “I prefer childhood pictures.”
“Nonsense. They’ll be waiting when you wake up, deal?”
“Deal.”
“I should catch a few hours of sleep myself.” She appears distraught as she tries to shake the exhaustion from her face.
Nikolai stands up and nods at me. “Thank you for letting me stay in your house, sir.”
I’m about to throw out a ‘No, I’m not letting you,’ but the expectation on Bran’s face forces me to change my mind, and I release a begrudged affirmative noise instead.
My son smiles and mouths a “Thanks” before he and the fucker go up the stairs.
He better take him to the guest room.
I’m about to remind him of that when Astrid shakes her head. “Don’t even think about being a dick. You did enough damage this entire morning.”
“I don’t like the idea of him in our son’s room.”
“He’s a twenty-three-year-old man, Levi. Stop treating him like a child. Besides, Nikolai is just so well-mannered.”
“Have you seen the tattoos?”
“You mean how beautiful they are?”
“How many there are, Princess.”
“So what? Those don’t make his personality. Since when do you judge a book by its cover?”