Emma’s face goes red as a tomato. “You know. Big. Scary-looking.”
I hear shuffling from the room Emma just left, and a second later, a scrawny kid appears. He takes one look at me, and his eyes bug out like he’s seen a ghost.
“Holy shit,” he wheezes. “Are… you a hitman? Or, like, Wren’s…boyfriend?”
Lenny’s eyes are practically bugging out of his head, darting between me and Wren like he’s watching a fucking tennis match. Emma’s trying to stifle a laugh behind her hand and failing miserably.
And Wren. She looks like she’s about two seconds away from shoving me out the nearest window. Her fists are clenched at her sides, knuckles white, and there’s a vein throbbing in her neck that I kind of want to bite.
Nakhuy,this shit is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.
Wren’s face twists like she just bit into a lemon. “Hell no, he’s not my boyfriend,” she spits out. “And he’s not a hitman either, you little twerp.”
I can’t help the smirk that tugs at my lips. “Nah, kid. I’m just the guy who keeps your sister out of trouble,” I say, throwing Wren a look that makes her cheeks flush red. “Most of the time, anyway.”
“I’m Dimitri, but you can call me D,” I say, walking straight up to the kid. He cranes his neck, looking up at me like I’m a fucking skyscraper.
“Woah… you’re like, three of me stacked on top of each other!” Lenny blurts out.
I size him up, nodding approvingly. “You’re not doing too bad yourself, kid. Bet you’re the tallest in your class, yeah?” I hold out my fist. “Keep it up and you’ll be breaking hearts in no time.”
Lenny’s face splits into a grin so wide I think his face might crack. He bumps my fist, then puffs out his chest. “Yeah, I’m already taller than most of the girls!”
Emma rolls her eyes.
I chuckle. “Nothing wrong with a little confidence, kid.”
Lenny’s face lights up like I just handed him a bag of cash. Emma looks like she’s trying not to piss herself laughing. And Wren… she looks like she’s seriously considering where to hide my body.
“Okay, show’s over,” she says, grabbing my arm. “D was just leaving. Right, D?”
I look down at her hand on my arm, then back at her face. She’s trying to look all tough, but there’s a flush creeping up her neck that says otherwise.
“Right,” I say, but I plant my feet. Instead, I turn back to the kids. “You two eaten?”
Emma shakes her head. “We were waiting for Wren. There’s leftover pasta on the table.”
Lenny shifts his weight, eyes darting to the floor. “I… ate a little,” he mumbles, guilt written all over his face as he glances at Wren. His fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt.
I catch the way Wren’s jaw tightens. Pain.
Kid’s probably used to going to bed hungry, splitting every scrap three ways.
I nod, looking at the covered plates. Probably cold by now. “How about I order some pizza instead?”
Lenny’s eyes light up. “Really? Can we get the one with the stuffed crust?”
“Absolutely not,” Wren cuts in. “D’s leaving. Now.”
But I can see the way she’s eyeing the sad little plates on the table. The way her siblings are looking at her, hopeful but trying not to push.
I lean in close, my voice low enough that only she can hear. “Let me do this, Wren. For them, if not for you.”
She stares at me for a long moment, her jaw clenched. Then, finally, she sighs. “Fine. But you’re not staying.”
I grin, already pulling out my phone. “Whatever you say,printsessa.”
41
