Dammit. I need sleep. If Henneman keeps me up tonight, I’m going to smother him with that stupid teddy bear.
“Gotta agree with Merci.” Viktor picks up his Red Bull again and takes a swig. “Knight’s a dick to him, even though the guy works his ass off and never complains. Even made sure Feisty Mouse and Merci got home safe from that frat party disaster last semester.”
Merci blinks like he's malfunctioning. “I'm sorry, what? Did you just agree with me?”
Viktor rolls his eyes and huffs. “Becks has been on this ‘be nice to people’ kick. Annoying as hell how much sense he makes sometimes. And we agreed to call a truce.”
A laugh breaks out before I can stop it—first one in weeks.
I've missed this. Missed them.
Alexei stares at me, drumming his fingers on his thighs. “You should've told us.”
“Alexei—”
“No.” He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Didn’t you learn from Zach? No more secrets. It stops now.”
“I can handle—”
“Bullshit.” He crosses his arms, neck muscles bulging. “And it doesn’t matter what you can handle. We're family.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” His eyes narrow. “Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you forgot.”
I grunt, staring him down.
Viktor claps. “Great, now that we've had our feelings circle, can we eat? I'm starving.”
Eli lets out a breath. “Yes, please.”
I pull out my phone while they set up, angling the screen away from Viktor’s nosy ass. Time to see what Henneman’s up to. The feed shows him at his desk, laptop open, the stupid bear off to the side.
But every thirty seconds, his eyes dart to the door. To my bed. Back to the door.
It’s fucking exhausting to watch. So, I close the app and lock the screen, then shove the phone back into my pocket.
Pizza boxes are open on the coffee table. Bottles of water and cans of soda are on the floor next to them. Everyone’s already digging in, Viktor even complaining that nothing has pineapple.
Merci grabs two olive slices, then resumes lounging against Zach as he eats.
I take a slice of pepperoni and sit on the floor near Alexei. “How's the NHL?”
A savage grin spreads across his face. “Is beautiful chaos. Everything's faster, more intense. Like controlled violence every night. Media obligations though . . .” He makes a disgusted sound. “These reporters, they ask stupid questions. 'How do you feel about the win?' I feel like crushing more skulls, obviously. But can’t say that.”
I snort. Leave it to my friend to give politically correct answers to reporters while fantasizing about violence.
His grin fades. “Schedule’s shit. Sometimes we're on road for three weeks straight. Being away from my Solnyshko for so long is fucking torture.”
Eli stares off, mouth tightening at the corners as he picks at the crust of his slice of pizza. Same look that stared back at me in mirrors as a kid whenever my parents would disappear for months.
Alexei pulls Eli into his lap and presses a kiss to his temple. “I know, Solnyshko. I hate it too.”
Eli melts against Alexei's chest. My parents never touch affectionately. Not with each other. Not with me.
Whatever. I don't need that shit.
Merci tosses his empty plate on the table before dropping onto Zach's lap. Zach grunts, water spraying as he chokes mid-drink. His hands clamp on Merci's hips, thighs tensing.
