Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(101)

“One song,” Camila says with a smile.

And I already reach out to my little sister.

Katya smiles big, and I help her up onto the bar.

Timo is beside us in less than a second, scepter in hand. As an upbeat Saint Motel song plays, the club’s energy livens like fireworks blasting off in three-hundred-sixty degrees. The three of us dance with silly throwback moves: the windshield wiper, the sprinkler, checking out groceries.

I pull my baseball hat out of my back pocket and fit it on backwards. Timo tosses me the scepter. I spin it like a baton and then throw it to Kat.

She lip syncs into the staff, and Timo and I do a dance from The Breakfast Club, one of his favorite movies.

We all clap at a heavy drum beat, even Bay and my family down below.

I think I was worried for no reason.

I think the bad feeling is me being overly paranoid.

Because everything is great right now. We’re all having a good time. That’s what birthdays are about, right?

As the song changes, Camila lets Kat sit on the bar, and I drop onto my stool, catching Bay’s rising smile before Dimitri’s body blocks us again.

Timo stays standing and raises his glass of whiskey-bourbon. “Listen up!” he shouts jubilantly, stealing the attention of more than just our family and friends.

We all grab hold of our drinks.

Timo points his scepter at our sister. “To Katya Kotova.”

Kat cups a vodka soda, her gaze lit up at Timo.

“I wouldn’t choose any other sister but you. May your seventeenth be the best it could ever be.” Everyone raises their drinks in agreement.

“Thanks, Timo,” Kat breathes, eyes welling in happiness.

“And to Nikolai.” Timo spins his scepter towards Nik.

I look back at my older, stoic brother who holds onto Timo’s gaze. In the creases of Nik’s no-nonsense demeanor, there’s light. I can’t say these two have always gotten along.

They haven’t.

But some sort of peace hangs in the air.

Resolution between them. And love.

Timo says loudly and deeply, “You’re the brother we all don’t deserve, but I’m damn happy I have you. You’re irreplaceable to us. I hope you know that.”

Nikolai nods, telling him he feels the sentiment.

Timo raises his glass higher. “Happy Birthday to Nik and Kat…” His voice trails, and his eyes widen, lips down-turning at someone in the distance.

I can’t see from the ground, but I know who it is.

Timo collects his thoughts and repeats the same phrase and cheers in Russian. Then we all drink. I already finished off my beer, so I set my bottle down and keep an eye on Timo.

He hops off the bar and then tries to stand behind John’s stool, shielding his boyfriend from the incoming person.

Sergei.

My older brother squeezes between jam-packed bodies and somehow reaches the bar. Of course he chooses the only free stool, which happens to be in the middle of Baylee and John.

(I’m not happy.)

Timo tries to wedge himself between our older brother and John. The same tactic Dimitri is using towards Bay and me.

It literally only causes Sergei to focus entirely on Baylee.

I rest my elbow on the bar and peer beyond Dimitri, who’s busy waving a hundred dollar bill at Camila. With the strobe lights, the music, and the chatter—the chaos should disorient me, but I hone in on Sergei.

“Can I buy you a whiskey?!” he asks Baylee over the commotion. I remove my hat, just to run my fingers through my hair.

“No thanks!” she shouts back.

Sergei scoots closer to Bay like I had done. “I always find you sitting alone.”

(She’s not alone.)

Baylee shrugs, tensed. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” She eyes his Black Sabbath T-shirt and the leather bracelets on his wrist. He’s definitely dressed differently outside of work.

“Other than it being lonely.”

Dimitri shifts forward, obstructing my view again. “Bartender girl, I have a hundred dollars for you!”

I grab his shoulder and pull him back slightly.

He doesn’t even notice.

Baylee flashes her phone at Sergei. “I have baseball streaming to fight boredom. I’m good.”

Sergei laughs. “Why even stay here if you’re just watching baseball?”

Because she can. What other fucking reason does she need? I shake my head a couple times, my muscles more constricted than normal. Nik said there aren’t teams concerning Sergei, but I instinctively feel Team Baylee. I can’t help it.

Baylee shrugs again. “Says the guy who hates baseball. I don’t think you’d understand.”

Sergei goes quiet instead of becoming defensive like I assumed he’d be.

I edge forward more and wave my empty beer bottle at Sergei, catching his attention. “Where’ve you been?”

My brother rotates towards me. “Convincing Geoffrey to return our act’s music to the original tempo.”

My brows knot. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did,” he says. “You couldn’t keep up.”

I almost laugh, and my smile stretches very wide. It’s ridiculous how easily he can blame me and think it’s a constructive critique. I’ve been trying. I practice for twelve hours a day. I can do more within the fast tempo than I could days ago, and he missed a rotation in his triple-full yesterday.