Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Felix
Ari straightens his shirt and then smooths his hair for the third time. It hasn’t moved from the sleek, low ponytail he put it into an hour ago, but if it makes him feel better to fuss, who am I to stop him? Greta’s going to think it’s adorable.
“Ready?” I ask him, taking mental notes for when Dáithí asks me for the details. He nods like he’s not nervous at all.
“Of course.”
Uh-huh.
I grab the door handle and have the door open only two inches when he grabs my arm and hisses, “What are you doing?”
Maybe his ponytail is too tight?
“Going inside,” I explain patiently. “That’s where the rest of my family is. They’re waiting for us.”
He stares at me, then flicks his gaze to the door. Is he having some kind of traumatic event? Is it the door? But I’ve seen him use doors all the time.
“We’re having dinner with my parents, remember? Did you want to portal inside, is that it?”
Horror crosses his face and seemingly jerks him back to the present. “No, of course not! That would be unforgivably rude. It’s… We’re just going to walk in?”
Ahhh. “Mom would be mad if we didn’t. This is my childhood home, and she gets weird about it if any of us kids ring the bell.
It doesn’t matter how many times we explain that we don’t live here anymore.
” I shrug. “Nobody wants to make Mom mad, so…” I step around him, shoving the door wider, and call, “Hello?”
“Living room,” Kyle yells, followed by, “Ow! What was that for?”
Mom appears in the front hall just as Ari steps over the threshold and carefully closes the front door.
She’s smiling wide, but it’s her pleased-to-meet-you smile that she uses on strangers.
I distract her with a hug and kiss and resist the urge to roll my eyes.
Ari needs a minute to get himself together.
“Hi, Mom. How’s work?” I say into her hair.
She draws back enough to see my face, studying it the way she always does before she’s satisfied that I’m hale and whole. “You look well, Fe. You’re following the diet and exercise plans the trainer set up for you? I’ve been doing some reading, and—”
“I’m following everything, and I feel so much better. I can still tell that my hormones are different from before puberty started, but it’s kind of muted. I’m more in control now.”
Her face softens. “I’m so glad. My baby… If I’d had any idea it was—”
“I know, Mom,” I interrupt. “None of us knew. But I’m good.
Now, come and meet Ari.” I take her arm, and we turn toward my friend.
I recognize that expression on his face—it’s the one I remember from our first few meetings, the one that somehow manages to be expressionless and also disdainful.
Ari’s got an incredible resting bitch face, the kind that doesn’t look like he wants to kill you, just that he thinks you’re garbage he has to scrape off his shoe.
Not the best first impression to give my mother.
“You must be Ari,” she says, pasting the smile back on and holding out her hand. “I’m Shayla Ansas, Felix’s mother.”
Ari shakes her hand and also does this awkward bow over it. I don’t know why he’s so nervous—it’s not like I told them I was bringing home a boyfriend. He’s my friend, and all of us have invited friends over for dinner throughout the years. We’re that kind of family.
“It’s my pleasure to meet you, Dr. Ansas. Thank you for having me in your home.”
Mom flicks me a glance, eyebrows raised, but her smile becomes a little more genuine. She’s used to dealing with nervous people—nobody’s ever super calm when they meet the surgeon who’s going to cut into them.
“Felix’s friends are always welcome here,” she says firmly. “Come and meet the rest of the family. I’ve warned them to be on their best behavior, but most of us haven’t met an elf before—that we know of anyway.”
I fall in behind them, enjoying the way Ari glances over his shoulder to make sure I’m following.
This is turning out to be a huge surprise—according to Dáithí, the only time Ari was less than polished and PR perfect was when he and I were clashing.
He’s not like that with me anymore, but then, he’s also not Mr. Face of the DEA around me, either.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I shoot off a quick text to Dáithí.
Ari is not good at meeting parents.
Even as I put my phone away to accept the onslaught of familial hugs, I can feel it vibrating with a reply. Too bad—poor Dáithí has to wait until later.
Riley is, as usual, in felid form, stretched out on one of the sofas and taking up far too much space. I pause beside him long enough to ruffle his fur in a way that has him hissing, then go say hi to my dad, who looks morose.
“I’ve been banned from my own kitchen,” he announces as I give him a hug. “Your mother decided she wanted to cook today.”
“It’s only fair that she gets a turn sometimes.” I manage to keep a straight face while I say it. “Plus, this way you’ll get the chance to talk to Ari about the physiology of his species. Oh—and dragons. Did you know that they’re not actually shifters at all?”
Dad’s whole being lights up. “Yes! I heard something about that, but I never managed to get any details. Do you think Ari would know?”
I shrug. “We can ask.” I turn just as Mom leads him over. “Ari, this is my dad, Claes.”
Once again, Ari awkwardly shakes hands and bows. I don’t know enough elves to know if that’s some kind of formal ritual. Dáithí could tell me, but he’s probably mad right now about me not replying to his message.
“Hello, Ari.” Dad pumps Ari’s hand with both of his. “It’s so nice to meet you. Come and sit, and let’s talk. Did Felix tell you I specialize in interspecies neuroscience and how our brains differ from each other’s across species?”
Ari visibly relaxes, though the glance he casts me wryly promises retribution. “No, he didn’t. That must be fascinating.”
I leave them to it and go to say hi to my sibs and their partners, who have indiscreetly clustered together to stare at Ari and whisper to each other.
“You guys are so uncool,” I chide.
“Cool is a fallacy,” Greta tells me, not taking her eyes off Ari. “He’s super hot, Fe.”
“And put together,” Kyle adds. “Not your type at all.”
I sock him in the arm. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs sulkily, rubbing his arm, but Jory answers, “Just that you usually go for guys who are verging on disaster. Or creepy, some of your exes have definitely been creepy.”
I’m beginning to think this might have been a bad idea. “Okay, first off, I don’t date creepy guys”—I think—“and Ari and I aren’t dating, anyway. He’s not my boyfriend.”
Greta actually laughs out loud, but my sister-in-law grimaces. “Oh, honey. Don’t let another guy use you like that.”
“What? No! He’s not using me. If anything, I’m using him.”
“Oh? Do tell,” Kyle’s partner says silkily. “This is a side of you we’ve never seen before.”
“That’s gross,” Kyle mutters, “but yeah. What do you mean, you’re using him?”
Fuck. “It’s not… What I meant…” Damn, damn, damn.
I cast a desperate glance around the room, checking that my parents and teenage nephew aren’t listening.
This is not a conversation that I want them to hear, and we shifters hear nearly everything.
“It’s a mutual agreement,” I mutter, hating that I feel like the baby of the family right now.
I’m in my forties, for fuck’s sake. If I was human, I’d definitely be considered an adult—middle-aged, even.
Which, on second thought, makes me super glad I’m not human. Imagine if I was my age and already almost halfway through life. How do they get anything done?
“A mutual agreement,” Jory says delightedly. “Well, well.”
“Now who’s being creepy?” I accuse. “It’s not like that.”
“You don’t have sex with no strings?”
Oh. “It’s kind of like that. We’re friends, and he knows how hard the sexual hormones—”
“Hard,” Greta snort-giggles. “I bet it was.”
“—have been for me.” I never thought I’d be the mature one in a conversation with my high-achieving siblings. This is new territory for me. “He offered to help me, and I…” How do I finish that sentence without giving everything away?
From the way my siblings all sober and stare at me with varying degrees of concern and pity, I think it might be too late.
“We’re friends,” I repeat. “We’re helping each other out, and we enjoy spending time together. It’s been hard for me to keep friends, lately. Don’t make this weird for me.”
“Fe,” Jory begins, using his dad voice, but I shake my head.
“No. I don’t need rescuing. This isn’t a situation where I’m in over my head. Ari and I have talked about our expectations and needs, and we understand each other. I am a grown adult, Jory, so put your judgment away.” The last few words come out a little more heated than I planned.
My big brother holds up his hands. “I’m not judging you.
I’m not,” he insists when I narrow my eyes.
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want when it comes to your sex life—as long as it’s consensual on both sides.
I just find it… unusual,” he continues, pausing to choose his words carefully, “that you, the person who has always claimed to be looking for a committed, settled relationship, are okay with a friends-with-benefits arrangement.”
That’s so touching. And also… so misguided.
“I’m not saving myself for love, though.
Yeah, I want to meet the right man and live happily ever after, but as you all love to point out, I’m young.
What are the chances that I meet the love of my life before I even reach the century mark?
In the meantime, I can have sex and enjoy it.
I can even have relationships that might not work out. ”
He looks unconvinced, but Greta winks at me. At least my sister gets it.
And if I’m fudging the truth slightly, well, it’s not hurting anyone.
I know Ari cares about me, and maybe I’m deluding myself, but I think if he could deal with whatever the fuck it is that’s holding him back, he could probably love me.
Like, love me, love me. Be with me for real, as my boyfriend.
He’s not ready for that, and I’m not going to push it, but I can be here, and if my feelings get a little tangled up in him, that’s my business.
Maybe I’ll end up hurt, but I know Ari won’t hurt me on purpose. I’ve been hurt before by people who didn’t care about me, and none of them ever tried to warn me to guard my feelings. So for now, what we’ve got is good with me.
“Dinner’s ready,” Mom announces, and it’s a relief to escape my overprotective siblings. I join Ari, determined to sit next to him at the table, and he smiles at me, a lot more relaxed than earlier.
“Your dad is a very interesting and complex man,” he tells me, and his tone makes it a compliment of the highest order. I grin at him.
He’s going to fit in just fine here.