From Lukov with Love

The slow smile that crept over my brother’s face told me he’d heard everything. Or at least mostly everything. “I wasn’t trying to listen, but I couldn’t help it. If you’re both too scared to call Karina, why don’t you just video call her while you’re here, so she can’t get mad, or if she does, it’s at both of you at the same time. Eh? Eh?” he offered, like him listening to something that had nothing to do with his life wasn’t a big deal.

And it wasn’t. I expected no less from him or from anyone else I was related to. I didn’t think my dad was nosey, but… I didn’t know for sure, and honestly, it didn’t matter. He was never around anyway.

What I did focus on was that Jojo had a point. And Ivan must have recognized that he did because he glanced at me and raised his eyebrows. Did I want to worry about Karina getting mad because neither one of us had told her something pretty important? No.

But…

“It’s a good idea, if you ask me,” Jojo mumbled before walking past us to keep going to the seat he’d left at the island.

Ivan moved forward in the line and immediately got busy scooping food onto his plate when he said, just loud enough for only me to hear, “It’s not a bad idea.”

“It’s not, but don’t let him hear you say that. He’ll write it down in his journal and bring it up for the next five years if you do.”

The tall man in front of me handed me the serving knife for the lasagna. I grabbed the portion I wanted that would fill me up but wouldn’t be so much it made me gain ten pounds after watching my diet for the last few weeks. After that, I picked two slices of garlic bread and a small portion of salad because, even though it was a cheat meal, I still needed vegetables.

By the time I turned around, there were only two mismatched stools that didn’t have an ass in them, and they were beside each other; Ivan took one and I took the other, sandwiching myself in between him and Ruby. I eyeballed him as he reached for the paper towel roll someone had left in the center of the island. He ripped off one, let his hand hover there for a moment and then ripped another one. Just as I started to cut into my lasagna, something white dropped onto my lap.

It was one of the paper towels.

“I wasn’t sure if you could reach them,” he whispered, being a smart-ass.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, my hands still above my plate of food.

“You know, because you’re short.”

Biting the inside of my cheek to keep from physically reacting, I muttered, “Yeah, I know what you meant.” But mostly, I looked at the napkin and told myself that he had done something nice for no reason. He hadn’t spit in it. I’d watched. But I still didn’t know what to do with the gesture other than say, “Thank you,” that alone almost hurt. Just almost.

He must have known it because out of the corner of my eye, I saw his upper body turn, and I was pretty sure he raised his eyebrows like he couldn’t believe that I’d just said the t-word.

I couldn’t believe I had just said the t-word again either. I’d already said it once today. I didn’t want to hit my quota.

“So, Ivan, how are practices going?” my mom asked from her spot across the table while I was still trying to figure out what was happening and what I was doing and what Ivan’s game plan was for this “friends” shit. “All Jasmine tells me is that they’re going well.”

Shoving a forkful of lasagna in my mouth, I shot my mom a look. Crybaby. She wanted a report, but there wasn’t anything to tell her. She just didn’t believe me for some reason. She knew I usually always ended up telling her everything.

“They’re going well. We haven’t started any choreography yet; we’re still trying to get other kinks worked out. We’ll more than likely get the choreographers out the first week of June,” the man beside me replied easily, his hands resting on each side of his plate, one holding a knife, the other a fork.

There were a few nods around the table, so I bit off a piece of garlic bread and watched my family members to see who was going to continue giving him the third degree. Because that’s what this was, and that’s what was going to happen. It’s what I’d been trying to avoid. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t my boyfriend; he was just of an important figure in my life, if not even more important. Actually, he was definitely more important than any of those wastes of time.

“That’s good,” my mom replied when I was halfway done chewing my food. Then she smiled, her face eerily calm and pleasant, and I knew whatever was about to come out of her mouth was going to be something off. I’d swear even Ben beside her must have seen it or sensed it because I was pretty sure he muttered, “Oh no,” under his breath.

“Why are you only pairing up with Jasmine for a year?” she asked with that creepy-calm smile.

I snorted, which made the bread in my mouth fly to the back of my throat, and I started choking as Ruby hissed, “Mom!”

I choked some more, the wet grain stuck right fucking there in my windpipe or wherever the hell it was and not going anywhere. Something heavy and big slapped me on the back hard, loosening up the bread. Grabbing the paper towel Ivan had just handed me, I spit the clump of food into it and wheezed, then coughed. My eyes watered just as someone shoved a glass of water into my chest, and I took it almost blindly, gulping it down then coughing into my hand some more until I had it under control.

What had to be Ivan’s big-ass hand smacked me on the back again, just as hard as he had the first time. “I’m fine,” I coughed out.

I wasn’t surprised when he gave my back another hard smack.

“You okay?” Ruby asked beside me.

Taking another sip of water, I nodded, blinking away the tears that had popped into them while I’d been choking.

“So?” my mom asked, with that way of hers that didn’t surprise me.

“Ahh—” Ivan started to say before I held up my hand and shook my head.

Did I want to hear the answer? As much of a coward as it made me, no, I didn’t, at least sure as hell not in front of my family. “Nope, you don’t have to answer that.” I glanced at my mom and shrugged my shoulders. “No, woman. It’s his business.”

Mom made the same face she always did when she thought I was being a chicken. Turning her head back to face forward, she decided to go a different route. “How are your parents then, Ivan? I haven’t seen them since their Christmas party a few months ago.”

“They’re visiting family in Moscow, but they’re doing great,” he answered.

“Your grandfather is doing better? Your mother had mentioned that he’d had a heart attack last fall.”

Those wide shoulders went up half an inch. “He’s doing better, but he’s a stubborn old man who refuses to accept he’s in his eighties and has people that run his companies for him now. He isn’t supposed to be under stressful situations anymore but—” The warmest smile came over his face, and I didn’t know what to do with that either. “—no one can really tell him what to do.”

Across the table, I heard Jojo mutter, “We have one of those in the family,” which was followed by James turning to him and shaking his head to get him to shut up.

Me, on the other hand, I just let the comment go. We had more than one of those in the family, and he damn well knew it. Starting with the woman asking all the questions.

“Some people don’t know how to retire or take it easy, that doesn’t surprise me,” my mom responded.

Ivan nodded.

“They told me he wanted you to move to Russia,” she threw out.

And I stopped the cutting motion I was doing with my knife to take in her words.

Ivan move to Russia? My mom hadn’t told me about that.

Then again, why would she? Before all this, there had been no reason for us to bring Ivan up. She knew I wasn’t his greatest fan. She also knew he wasn’t my biggest fan.

But…

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