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Well. That’s one way to introduce them.
“Dad.”
“Son.”
Rowan looks like he’d rather throw himself out the nearest window. Which, considering his injuries, would be ambitious.
Dad closes the door behind him and takes in the room with one slow glance. “I see the patient is awake.”
“I’m fine,” Rowan says, planting a hand beside him and attempting to haul himself out of bed.
Before he gets very far, I press a hand against his shoulder and guide him back down.
“What? I want to introduce myself to your father.”
“Not like this. You’re injured.”
“I’m capable of saying hello while injured.”
Dad’s mouth twitches. “Good luck, Rowan.”
Rowan blinks. “With what?”
“With getting him to stop fussing. Didn’t know you had it in you, Ciaran.”
Traitor.
Rowan rolls his eyes, and Dad clears his throat, making no effort whatsoever to look innocent.
He stops beside the bed and looks Rowan over for a moment. “Anyway, it’s good to finally meet you properly. I’ve heard your name often enough.”
“Sir,” Rowan begins, but Dad waves him off.
“Christian.”
Rowan glances at me before looking back at him. “Christian.”
“Much better. You’re settling in?”
“I think so.”
“Good.” His gaze dips to our joined hands. “Now, no more disappearing, son. You scared us all.” The words might be directed at Rowan, but somehow I know they’re meant for both of us.
Rowan squeezes my hand. “We’ll do our best.”
“Anyway, I just came up here to say hello. Your mother has spent most of the evening trying to keep me away from both of you. Good thing I’ve spent most of my life doing exactly what she tells me not to.” Dad pushes away from the bed with a sigh. “I’ll let you rest. Your cousins are already waiting downstairs to drag you back to the mansion, and your mother expects both of you for dinner tomorrow. Don’t keep her waiting.” He glances between us. “Take care of each other.”
Then he leaves, holding the door open just long enough for Rafe and Marius to wander in carrying jackets, datapads, and entirely too much confidence.
Marius points at Rowan. “And before you argue, Damaris has already taken over the campus mansion.”
Rowan groans. “Damaris doesn’t live there.”
“Try telling him that.”
Rafe looks far too proud of himself. “Everything’s set up. Food, blankets, rooms. The whole disaster.”
“You’re moving back tonight,” I tell Rowan.