Infini (Aerial Ethereal #2)(95)

Thora scowls darkly, but Nik is by her side, his hand on the small of her back. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile all night.

“Luka,” Bay calls from inside her room. Sticking her hand out, she waves me over, and I’m there in a flash.

I peek into the barely ajar door, and I think I’m supposed to be fixated on Camila—who flings a fuzzy lilac blanket over her head—but I’m entrapped by Bay.

It’s not just because of her sparkling halter dress that hugs her hips. Or the glittering red and pink sequins. It’s not just her curly hair that’s let loose, because she’s also gorgeous tired and sweaty.

It’s how she tilts her head and shrugs at me.

How she struggles to suppress an overwhelmed grin.

It’s who she is.

I breathe deeply. She takes a bigger breath.

“Luka,” Katya calls, breaking my trance. She waves a hand in my face. “Did you hear me?”

“What?” I blink a few times. “Sorry.” My sister wears that Calloway Couture charcoal-colored dress, glitzy and shorter than I thought it’d be.

“Can you make sure no one hassles her?” She motions to Camila, who’s hidden by the blanket.

“I have you covered, sister.” That’s Timo, poking his head inside the room from behind me. Beneath the blanket, Camila raises her hand and high-fives Timo.

“I’m heading out with her,” Baylee tells me. “I’ll meet everyone at the club.”

I frown. “You sure?” I fight the urge to reach out and draw her to my chest. Maybe that’s the problem.

Baylee shrugs. “We’ll see each other, right?”

“Right.”

“Then I’m sure.”

Timo and Katya study my interaction with Baylee way too keenly, so I don’t press onward or try to convince her to stay.

My brother and I back up, and together, Bay and Camila slip into the living area, and we walk them to the door while our cousins go wild, almost all of them shouting, “What’s your name?!”

A few try to follow, but I push them back and Timo spins his scepter on them. “I’m the royal guard of the princess. Step back, you fiends.” He hisses.

My smile explodes. It’s impossible not to love Timofei.

Baylee disappears out the door faster than everyone probably realizes. She’s invisible. Like me, but I see her.

I’ve always seen her.

Camila stops by the door frame, sticks her hand out of the blanket, and waves everyone goodbye. She puts her palm to her blanket-covered lips, miming a kiss.

“I love you, princess!” Dimitri shouts from the bar counter. “Thank you for calling my dick massive!”

“TINIEST!” she shouts before darting out of the suite. Timo and I hurriedly shut the door and block about five cousins from chasing after Camila and Bay.

“No,” I repeat in a bored tone. “No.” I push a few off, and they curse at me in Russian. I don’t care.

In a split-second, they all forget about Camila. Their attention swerves onto Katya who comes out in full makeup and a long-sleeved, short dress with a plunged back.

The room falls so quiet that if I shut off the music, you could probably hear a pin drop. No one knows how to react. If they should compliment her or tell her to go change or feel wierded out. She’s the only girl in this generation by blood. And there are very few marriages and even less current relationships.

It’s different for everyone.

Before Katya gets frustrated or annoyed by the silent reaction, Timo and I start dancing our way over to her—which is more like jumping up and down to the beat of a new song. As soon as she sees us, her lips pull in a huge smile.

We reach Kat, and she starts jumping with Timo and me. We sing-song, “You’re seventeen!” And she sing-songs back, “I’m seventeen!”

The music cuts off, but we’re still jumping. Timo flashes Erik his middle finger for silencing us.

I laugh.

Kat laughs, and we only fall to our feet as the chatter escalates and our cousins start tearing at the wrapping paper of the gift they bought.

She already rolls her eyes. “You can open it.”

Thora sidles to Katya and gives her a side-hug. “You look so pretty,” she tells her, which I see makes her light up.

I nod. “You do, Kat.”

“You really think so?” Her voice spikes in surprise, and I wonder…maybe none of us have ever told her how pretty she is. I know our mom never did.

“Really,” I say.

“Thanks, Luk.” Katya laughs at a thought. “You know the funny thing? I don’t think I needed to hear it. I already believed it. Rose Calloway taught me that.”

I smile and nod repeatedly.

“Oh my God,” Katya groans at the sight of the unwrapped gift.

Dimitri motions to a giant gumball machine, and in Russian, he says, “Happy Birthday, Katya.” Our cousins already bombard the machine, and they bemoan at the realization of needing quarters to get a gumball.

I look to Katya. “It’s better than the tennis rackets.”

Timo spins his scepter. “And the Santa statue.”

“Definitely ranks over the boys underwear,” Kat says.

“I don’t know,” Timo says, “I took a pair of those.”