Wesley was quick to answer. “Polish moonshine.”
“How do you know that, but you don’t know what poppers are?” Hendrix chuckled, letting himself relax for the first time since we arrived. His right hand fell between our thighs and I searched it out, threading our fingers together and bringing our hands to rest on top of my leg.
Grayson grinned, turning toward Wes. “You don’t know what poppers are?”
“Don’t tell him,” I warned. “He’s young and impressionable, and you’re a horrible and perverted old man.”
“I’m younger than you,” he shot back.
“I know, and I’m worse.”
“You are,” Hendrix confirmed.
My mouth fell open in shock, and I turned to him. “I just told Marzena I wanted to marry you, and this is how you repay me? This slander?”
“I’ll make it up to you later,” he promised.
“I think you mean I’ll take itouton you later,” I countered.
Hendrix’s cheeks darkened, and he gave a small shrug with his left shoulder.
“This is worse than the bus conversation, I think,” Wesley whined.
“Just wait.” I sidled up closer to Hendrix and offered his younger brother a lascivious smile.
“It’s going to be a long week,” Wes groaned.
“A week after all?” Hendrix had been quiet, so the gentle tone of his question caught me off guard. “You said you hadn’t booked a flight home.”
“I haven’t. I don’t know.” Wesley opened his mouth like he had more to say, but he quickly snapped it closed and looked down at his lap.
Before Grayson could tease or Hendrix could press for more, Marzena bustled over to the table with a plate full of steaming pierogi…and an extra plate of caramelized onions.
Just for me.
“Share,” she warned, setting the plate in the middle of the table.
“I don’t like to.”
“Learn.” She waved me off, spinning quickly on her heels. “More to come later.”
I made fast work of unrolling my napkin to get to my fork, stabbing one of the pierogi and shoveling it into my mouth before anyone could make a move. I scooped some onions onto my tongue, chewing in a highly dramatic and uncivilized fashion, considering Marzena had to have just taken the pierogi out of a volcano before bringing them to the table.
“Fucking hot,” I panted, dropping my fork and waving my hand in front of my mouth.
Hendrix looked at me, an expression in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before and couldn’t quite read.
“What?” I muttered, finally getting the pierogi insides in my mouth to a swallowable temperature.
“What what?”
“You’re looking at me weird.” I swallowed and reached for my water, suddenly nervous.
“Nothing,” he said. “I just pictured you as a kid and it was…”
“Terrifying?” Grayson offered.
“Inappropriate?” Wesley chimed in.
