Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(104)

Dimitri cocks his head. “You’re anti-Kotova?”

(She wouldn’t be the first. Some of us are annoying as fuck.)

“Today I’ve decided I’m anti-drama, which means I’m anti-Kotova. At least for the next half-century.” She forces a smile at a customer at the end of the bar and waves.

“I’ll wait for you, princess.”

Camila actually smiles. I think she’s surprised by her own reaction. Dimitri does well enough with women, but he also ends up with drinks thrown in his face as often as he gets a phone number. Sometimes those are the same girls.

I’m not the cock-blocker.

Bay is.

“Can you get Luka a beer?” she asks Camila.

My lips curve upward.

Dimitri looks at Baylee like she’s causing him erectile distress.

Camila frowns at me. “Do you want a beer? I’m serious about those shots.”

“By far the worst policy I’ve ever heard,” John interjects. “Sad people don’t need more liquor, let alone free liquor. Bitter people, on the other hand, could use some free shots.”

“A beer is perfect,” I say, and I sense Baylee’s burgeoning smile not far from me.

Camila nods, looks between us with a knowing grin, and she searches for a bottle that matches my empty one.

I’d like to say it’s all easygoing from here, but even with house music thumping, a really awkward silence starts stringing across the bar that begins with Kat, John, Timo, Sergei, Baylee, Dimtiri, and me—all in that order. Some of us sitting.

Others standing.

Sergei rotates on the stool and stares past Timo. “You’re John?” Oxygen is vacuumed up. I thought this moment would be uncomfortable. Uneasy. And maybe more awkward than all else.

I didn’t think it’d feel this unpredictable.

Like anything can happen.

Timo lifts his mask to his head, but John already rises from his stool.

His scowl dark, he outstretches his hand to Sergei. “I’m John Ruiz. Timo’s boyfriend.”

Sergei remembers that he’s cuffed to Baylee, and he carefully stands without pulling her off the stool. But to give him more room to move, she stands too. The chain to their handcuffs isn’t longer than a few inches.

They’re literally that close. Her shoulders lock, uncomfortable, and she tries not to bump into his side.

I abandon my new beer and stand up too. Dimitri is distracted by Nik and Thora, and he ends up joining their deep conversation a few feet away.

Quickly, I come up behind Bay, my hands lightly on her hips. “You okay?” I ask in the pit of her ear before I step around her frame. I want to fucking hold her. Wrap her up in my arms.

Squeeze her tight.

Instead, we’re left doing this.

Her fingers brush mine, and our pinkies hook for a brief second before falling to our sides. “Yeah.” Bay lets out a deeper breath. “Do you have anything small or sharp to pick the lock?”

I dig in my pocket: gum, Tic Tacs, a few buttons, and actually something of use. I flash a safety pin to Bay, and she plucks it out of my fingers.

“Some hope exists after all,” she says seriously.

I almost smile. (Luka Kotova: pockets full of hope and shit.)

Bay untwists the safety pin, and she elbows hair out of her face.

My eyes flit up to Timo, and my face falls. He bites his pinky nail, and now that we’re all standing, he can’t shield Sergei from John or vice versa. They’re both taller than Timofei.

Sergei reaches out and shakes John’s hand, cordial enough, but I study my little brother, his expression contorting like he teeters on the precipice of a cliff.

Timo.

(Look at me. Everything’s going to be okay.)

His eyes dart to John and Sergei, and he says, “Great, you’ve met. Now never meet again.”

Sergei sighs heavily. “You’re being dramatic. We’re getting along fine.” He motions from his chest to John’s. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” Timo touches his own chest.

My bad feeling—it’s starting to catch up to me. I immediately walk forward. Towards Timo.

To reach him. And then Sergei extends his un-cuffed, free arm across my chest, stopping me next to him.

Like he needs me to be his advocate.

I glance back at Baylee, but she’s urgently trying to pick her lock. I’m about to tell Sergei to let me through, but he speaks again.

“You’re the only one with a problem, Timofei,” Sergei nearly yells out of frustration. “Do you realize that?”

(No.)

Timo’s face breaks into painful fragments. When people hurt him, it’s not snuffing out a light. It’s taking the heel of your foot and smashing a lantern to a million shards. You wonder how he can ever be lit again.

I duck beneath Sergei’s arm, and I almost pass through—but I’m jerked back. Sergei fists my shirt, yanking me beside him.

“Stop, Serg.” I push him once, my shirt out of his possession, and his eyes narrow and soften like help me.

I can’t fucking help him be friends with Timo! I wish everyone would leave me out of this and just let me be there for my little brother.

I look back at him.

John has his arm draped around Timo, hugging him to his side, but Timo doesn’t tear his shattered gaze off our oldest brother.