Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(126)

We bypass the in-pool bar. Bay switched her antidepressants, under advice from her therapist, and the new kind have bad side effects with alcohol, so I don’t ask if she wants any liquor.

Baylee drapes her arms over my shoulders. “I want to be happy.” She tries to release a heavy breath. “I just can’t stop thinking about what happens if Marc says Infini is done. It’s not just the music and my mom. It’s so much more.”

I frown. “Like what?”

She shrugs. “Where do I go? What do I do? It’s the only show I’ve ever been in.”

“Krasavitsa.” I give her a look like it’s obvious what would happen.

“Don’t say what I think you’re going to say. It’s so farfetched.”

I say it. “AE will hire you for another show, and it’s only unbelievable to you because it hasn’t happened before.”

She seems uncertain.

“They will hire you again.”

Baylee leans her head back like her head weighs a million pounds and groans. “You don’t know that. I’m not a Kotova.”

“They will,” I say again, my lips rising.

She smiles off of my smile. “I’m being realistic here.” Her smile leaves really fast. “All so when I’m without a job and a roof, I’m not crushed to pieces.”

“Look.” I cup her face in my hands, and her worried eyes meet my assured ones. “That’s not going to happen. I’m not letting Corporate crush you. I’m not, okay?”

She nods, and I wonder if she really believes me.

Do I even believe I have that kind of control?

For now, I’m going to pretend to.



*



I thought I picked a somewhat quiet cabana to disappear into with Baylee. Not to screw around, we’re literally sleeping. I wake to familiar voices.

“My quota of drunk old men has been reached, surpassed, and pissed on profusely,” John says.

I open my eyes and make sure they haven’t woken up my girlfriend. My arms are around Baylee while she sleeps on my chest, head tucked in the crook of my arm to block out the sunlight. She’s practically passed out, needing this.

“Old men must attract more old men,” Timo says, his smile breathing inside his words.

They walk into view and nearly approach my cabana, but they’re distracted by each other’s presence.

(I’m not kidding.)

Timo is checking out John like he’s not his boyfriend that he sees every day. And John is fit. I mean, a six-pack, toned, and he’s bigger built than my little brother who has lean muscles. His dark trunks contrast my brother’s neon-orange Speedo.

Most Kotovas are in Speedos. Mine is blue. Be warned: Dimitri will show off his muscular thighs to every woman he passes. He thinks they’re god’s gift to humanity.

(They kind of are.)

John sips his beer and then says, “What kind of schooling does AE give you? Twenty-six is nowhere near fifty—and I don’t know why I’m asking. You believe you’re twenty-one.”

“Remind me, what am I, John?” Timo tilts his head, his cross earring swaying.

“You’re nineteen, clearly delusional because you’re dating me, and you hip-hop-around like a frog with ten legs.”

Timo’s smile bursts. “I must have weird taste when I go for the guy that calls me a frog over the one who calls me ‘Adonis’ incarnate.”

“I’m honest to you. The other guy just wanted to fuck you.”

“So you don’t want to fuck me?” Timo questions.

“Please,” John says dryly and then kisses my brother strongly. He urges Timo’s mouth open with smooth force, his arm winding around my brother’s waist. Subtly drawing him even closer.

Timo flushes while smiling, and he clutches the back of John’s windswept hair. Lip-locked for a while, they only break when John pulls back.

“Hold still, babe,” he tells Timo, his dark scowl trained on Timo’s hair.

Timo stiffens, more uncertain than usual. He clutches his boyfriend’s waist, stepping closer to him.

John wraps one arm around Timo’s shoulders in comfort, and then he picks some sort of beetle bug out of my brother’s hair.

It flies off immediately.

“Seriously!” John yells at the departing bug. “I was going to fucking stomp on you!”

Timo laughs and then he notices me out of the corner of his eye. He breaks apart from his boyfriend. “Hey, brother.”

I wave with a smile.

He bounds over at first like a ball of lightning, but then he slows at the sight of Bay sleeping. “I’ll be quiet,” he whispers and stands on an ottoman with a bow.

He’s taller than John now.

John eyes Baylee. “How is she sleeping? I can barely hear myself over the shrill music. I almost enjoy my own voice.”

I give Timo a look like: you tell him something. I’m too tired.

Timo swings his head to John. “Magic.”

John pauses for one beat. “I never thought I’d be with a dork for this long.”

“I can expire our time,” Timo banters. “Just tell me, John. I’ll end it—”

John covers Timo’s mouth with his hand. “Stop talking nonsense, babe. That’s my job.” With Timo taller on the ottoman, John draws him down some, just to kiss his forehead.