Amour Amour (Aerial Ethereal #1)(52)

“Nothing,” Luka says. “Nothing happened.”

Timo points at Luka, about to share details that aren’t his. My interest has peaked. Curiosity—it’s a naughty, wicked thing.

“You said you felt lost. Don’t lie,” Timo retorts.

Luka removes his baseball cap, combing his fingers through his short hair. “Look,” he says to both his siblings. Then he struggles for the next words.

Like Katya, he turns to me for that same support. I almost wonder if Nikolai fills this role in their lives. I just nod to him in encouragement, internally saying you can do this, whatever this is.

His chest inflates, his shoulders rising. “…I thought I’d feel…home when I got there, but I didn’t. A lot was foreign to me. I felt foreign. Growing up here with part of the culture is different. We’re different, and we don’t fit in there…Kat.”

Tears well in her eyes, and her chin trembles. “But we don’t fit in here.”

Timo chimes in, “Yeah we do. Maybe what you’re feeling is internal, so don’t take it out on us.” He’s still trying to get her cash.

Katya flips him off.

I smile.

Timo groans. “Come on, Kat—” She dives underneath her comforter, physically icing him out. He sighs in frustration and turns to Luka.

“No.”

Timo focuses on me and presses his palms together, in prayer formation. “Please, please, Thora James. I’ll even take a twenty and pay you back fifty after I win big. You know I can.”

When I sat with him at John’s table, he won forty extra dollars, but he only left because he had to go prep for Amour. I tell him the truth, “I don’t carry cash on me.”

The door whips open for the third time, and I realize that the television is shut off, no interfering noise below. Everyone must’ve left. Nikolai stands strict in the door frame, and Timo and Luka go suspiciously quiet.

We can all hear Katya crying softly beneath her purple comforter.

“What’d you do?” He looks between both his brothers.

Timo rolls his eyes, but I see the remorse flood his features, his bright gray irises beginning to cloud. “I told her that I’m not going to Saint Petersburg.”

Nikolai glowers like why would you ever fucking tell her that? He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Everyone knew I was never going to go,” Timo refutes.

Luka whispers back, “You could’ve let her believe what she wanted, at least for two more years.”

Timo touches his chest. “I’m being criticized for telling the truth. Does anyone see how wrong this is?” He looks to me. “Thora?”

“Don’t bring her into your shit,” Nikolai cuts in. He gestures to me with two fingers, and when I approach him, he slips his hand in mine. I relax almost instantly, muscles loosening that I didn’t even realize were strained.

“She was my friend first,” Timo snaps. “Just think about that when you’re fu—”

Nikolai interjects with a bunch of Russian words. My eyes nearly pop out. He was going to say when you’re fucking. We’re not doing that. No. My neck heats.

No.

Timo huffs, more angrily, and then waves Nikolai off. If we’re being technical, I met Nikolai before any of them. I can’t say we were ever friends though.

Maybe a minute later, Nikolai disengages from his siblings, and I descend the staircase with him while they remain upstairs for a moment or two longer.

I can see the apologies in his eyes before he speaks. “I like your sister,” I tell him first. “She’s sweet.”

He’s taken aback, like no one has ever called Katya sweet before. “She’s still figuring things out,” he says.

“I get it,” I breathe. She’s trying to find herself. Some days I still wonder if I’ve found me. Maybe we never stop searching. Maybe we evolve the way seasons change, seamlessly without really knowing, not until all the leaves have fallen.

This is who I am today.

Tomorrow I may be the same.

But in years, I’ll be someone else. Someone I may like more. Someone I may like less. And that’s okay. Because I’m still living.

“What are you thinking?” Nikolai asks, lifting my chin as he stares down.

I just give him a weak smile. “What time should I wake up for training?”

“Early,” he says, dropping his hand. “I have a show at two tomorrow.”

I nod, knowing his schedule well enough. I’m about to go to the couch and plop down for the night when he catches my arm.

“About Dimitri.” He pauses. “I’ve known him since I was a little kid, and he’s always been this way. I just take him for what he is. I promise he won’t affect your training.”

I feel like we’re skirting around something deeper. It can’t be all about training. So I throw it out there, “No boyfriends, right?”

His features harden. “Don’t sleep with him.”

My eyes widen. “I wouldn’t…date your cousin.”

“I didn’t say date.”

“Nikolai—”

He turns his head from me, his jaw muscles contracting. “Never mind. I shouldn’t…I have no say in who you have sex with. You can do what you—”