Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(105)

Timo passes me a fork. “Luka’s pie is the worst.”

Luka looks uncaring. “No one taught me how to cook.”

“No one taught me how to cook, but mine still turned out edible.”

Katya pushes the chocolate one towards me. “Mine is actually the best.” When I first met her, I doubt she’d ever consider herself better than her brothers, in any arena.

I believe it. I try a small portion, the taste richer than I expected, making me smile. It’s really good. I give her a thumbs-up, and her orb-like eyes brighten. After another bite, I ask, “So who’s this boy?”

She groans. “You heard that?” Her eyes flicker nervously to Nikolai. What is he going to do? I think about all his rules with me and training. Yeah—I’m sure he has an equally long list for Katya and dating.

“How old is he?” Nikolai layers on the no bullshit, no humor expression to the millionth degree.

“He’s no one,” Katya refutes. “I met him in the hallway.”

Nikolai almost chokes on a bite of pie.

“The hallway?” I say. I don’t get it. Is that a meeting spot for people in the circus—like code for under the bleachers?

“He was just here for the weekend,” she clarifies.

It clicks. “Like a bachelor party kind of thing?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

Nikolai starts, “You didn’t give him your number—”

“I know the rules. Okay? I wouldn’t do that.”

“And plus, she was oblivious.” Timo points his fork at Katya. “You need to take my class: Timofei 101. I’ll teach you the ways of men, little sister.”

I don’t see all three siblings together often, only because they spend more time together than they do with Nikolai. And I’m usually with him. So I eat silently, my eyes pinging between the Kotovas.

“She’s sixteen,” Nikolai says sternly.

Katya sighs like she’s heard this all before.

Luka rips open a packet of Junior Mints, exiting the conversation and stepping away from the spotlight that his little brother adores.

Timo gives Nikolai a look, as though he’s living in the wrong decade. “And I lost my virginity at fourteen.”

Nikolai pinches his eyes. “I don’t want to know this, Timo.”

Timo redirects his attention to me. “Thora James.” His grin seems to twinkle in his eyes, in a sprightly evil way. “When did you lose it?”

A piece of pie lodges halfway down.

Nikolai smacks the back of Timo’s head and says something in Russian that I’m almost certain has to do with tact.

Timo touches his chest innocently. “I’m friends with her.”

“That doesn’t mean you can ask her that.”

“Do you not know the answer?” Timo wonders with the tilt of his head.

I can’t let this progress any further. I simply say, “I was eighteen. But in all honesty, I wish I waited for the right person.”

“Nikolai?” Luka adds.

Nik is about to smack his head, but he sways out of his reach with a humored laugh. And with the extension of Nik’s arm, I notice his tattoo again: long black lines, inked on the inside of his bicep, creating trees at the end. I’ve never asked what it meant to him. There are questions that always sit on the tip of my tongue, but I struggle to let them out. Not knowing the perfect time. Not knowing the perfect way to ask.

I’m not good with words.

At least I’ve known that for a while.

Timo catches me scrutinizing Nikolai’s arm with confusion. He waves his fork at one of the shorter lines. “That’s me.”

My heart skips, and Nikolai meets my gaze with a nod, like he’s right. He motions to the other series of lines that form trees, starting with the shortest. “Katya, Timo, Luka, Peter, Sergei, and…my parents.”

His family.

The symbolism is sweeter than he realizes.

Katya asks softly, “What do you think they’re doing today?”

“Eating pie,” Luka states plainly.

“They don’t celebrate Thanksgiving,” Timo interjects, deconstructing any fantasy that Luka and Nikolai fog her in.

“You don’t know that,” Katya retorts with a frown.

“Ask Nikolai. It’s an American tradition. Dad hates that shit, doesn’t he?”

Nikolai has his eyes on me, more rigid. He sets down his fork. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Does she not know?” Timo squeezes my shoulder. “He didn’t tell you, Thora James?”

Chills snake up my spine. What am I missing? “Tell me what…?”

Nikolai runs a hand through his hair. “She knows, Timo. Let it go.”

“Then why are you being so weird about it?” Timo asks, his features darkening. “You’re keeping something from us then…?” They stare at each other for a long moment, both good at reading body language. Both superior at compelling one’s attention. Both exceptionally talented. And yet, it’s clear who’ll leave with the upper-hand.

Timo shakes his head first, more confused than before. Same. I sit in a mystery with the rest of them.

“Talk about something else.” Nikolai looks to Luka, to save him from this. His younger brother opens his mouth, but Timo springs to his feet, silencing Luka.