Chapter 21
LOCHLAN
“What are you doing here?”
I grin at the diminutive blonde blocking the doorway and scowling up at me.
“Good to see you too, Demi.”
“Dammit, Lochlan!” My little sister squeals and tries to dodge away as I reach out to mess up her hair.
She’s not fast enough.
More screams and curses and laughter tumble out as I wrap my arm around her neck from behind, pin her to my chest, and give her a noogie.
“You asshole!” she giggles, finally wrenching herself free and jamming a poorly aimed kick at my shins. She misses.
She steps back into the house, finally allowing me inside.
“MOM!” she yells over her shoulder. “DAD! YOUR SON IS HERE!”
A squeal of excitement that could only come from Callie Kildare, née Drakos, explodes from the upper levels of the six-story Upper East Side brownstone.
A loud “Which one?!” accompanies the sound of feet rushing down the stairs.
“The dickhead!” Demi yells, grinning like a little shit at me.
“You gotta be more specific, hon.”
I look past my sister to my mother standing in the doorway to the living room.
“Hi, Mom.”
She grins, her bright blue eyes shining. “C’mere, you.”
Demi dives out of the way as our mom rushes over to throw her arms around me. I feel myself smiling widely as I hug her against me and lean down to kiss the top of her head.
“What are you doing here?!”
I sigh. “Second time I’ve gotten that since I walked in the door. Should I call next time before I come home?” I say sarcastically.
Mom rolls her eyes and laughs as she tucks her long dark hair behind her ears.
All three of us ended up getting Dad’s sandy dark-blond hair, and Ronan got his lighter, Irish complexion. Demi and I got mom’s more tanned, Greek skin tone.
Mercifully, Ro and I both got Dad’s height.
He’s six-foot-five. Mom is well over a foot shorter.
“One sec,” Mom beams. “I'll call your dad.” She walks over to the main staircase in the open foyer and cups her hand to her mouth. “CASTLE!!” she bellows. “LOCHLAN’S HERE!”
She turns around and shrugs. “We were just…cleaning out the closet.”
I chuckle. “Yeah? That why your shirt's on inside out?”
Mom jerks her gaze down to the t-shirt she’s wearing, which is indeed inside out and backward. Then she looks up, grins, and shrugs sheepishly.
“EEEW!!” Demi blurts, looking ill. “I thought you guys were up there reorganizing!!”
“Pretty sure they were reorganizing something—”
“Lochlan!” Mom huffs, slapping my arm. “Rude!”
I laugh loudly as my sister dry heaves.
Footsteps thunder from above, and I look up just in time to see my dad jog down the stairs, a big, shit-eating grin on his face.
“Hey, kid,” Castle Kildare rumbles. He throws both arms around me and yanks me into a big bear hug.
“Hey, Dad,” I smile as I hug him back, clapping him on the shoulder as we pull away.
“Well well,” he grins as he reaches up as if to cup my face. “To what do we owe this—”
He frowns when I pull back from his outstretched hand.
“What—”
“Did you wash those hands?”
He looks confused for a second. But then he notices the way his wife is hiding her face and trying not to giggle, and the way his daughter looks like she wants to vomit.
Pretty sure that’s the moment I can see the pieces click into place.
He chuckles loudly.
“First of all, I apologize for nothing.”
Mom snorts a teary-eyed laugh as Demi groans.
“Second of all…” he waves his fingers in the air. “Yes, I washed my hands. I’m not an animal.”
“Agree to disagree,” Mom mumbles under her breath.
“MOM!” Demi and I blurt at the same time as our parents roar with laughter and snuggle up to each other.
“You two are fucking gross.”
Dad rolls his eyes. “What, that?” He blows air through his lips. “That was nothing.”
Mom immediately yelps as Dad’s hand swats down on her butt.
“Yeah, could you restrain yourself?” I say, my face souring.
“Probably not,” Dad winks. “Great timing, by the way. I was about to make some lunch.”
“Ooo, perfect. I’m starving,” Mom groans as they turn and start to walk toward the kitchen, their arms around each other's waists.
“Still?” Dad murmurs, making Mom giggle.
Demi and I share a grossed-out look as they disappear down the hall.
“Huh, so…” My nose wrinkles.
Demi shakes her head. “They’re getting worse as the house empties,” she sighs. “I sleep with earplugs these days.”
“Dude…” My face sours.
“Tell me about it,” she sighs. “I seriously don’t see why I can’t just graduate early.”
Us three kids have always been smart. But Demi is on another level. She's pretty much been finished with high school ever since she petitioned the school last year to let her take her senior level exams a full year early.
She aced them all.
She still goes every day, mainly to keep Mom and Dad happy. But they’ve also got her a tutor who’s teaching her college level material before she gets to Knightsblood next fall.
“So,” Demi eyes me. “What are you doing home?”
I sigh. “Can I not just be homesick?”
“You can, but we both know that’s not why you’re here.”
She's right, it’s not. I’m back in the city because I need to put some distance between myself and the Knightsblood campus.
More specifically, I need to put some distance between myself and one particular person ON the Knightsblood campus.
I saw the look in her eyes when they landed on the scratches on my hips earlier today. She covered quickly, but not quickly enough.
She knows.
Well, she might not know. But she at least momentarily wondered, and that’s not something that’ll just drop out of her head and be forgotten.
Fuck.
At some point, this whole thing is going to become untenable and I’m going to have to decide: tell Galina who I am, or end it all.
There’s no third option. Either this becomes real, or it stops. This make-believe world we’re existing in right now, where I’m this masked fantasy she gets to lose herself in, isn’t something that can be sustained much longer.
The problem is, I do want to tell her. I want this to become real. I don’t want to just keep watching her through my laptop screen. Or only to touch her while she looks into a masked face. I want to kiss her, I mean really kiss her, and to taste her lips bare against my own.
I want Galina in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. Entirely. Infinitely.
But every single fucking time I envision telling her everything, I see pretty plainly how it ends.
Spoiler: not well.
First, I started this whole thing with blackmail. Fake blackmail, but…still.
If we were to keep things strictly how they are now, just playing out this ongoing MaskTok fantasy, that might be fine. But it’s not how you normally start a relationship, and I don’t see a world where a girl like Galina just lets that go.
But the big block there?
I’m scared.
I’m scared about what happens if this becomes real. Right now, as a fantasy, there are no real stakes or emotions at play. No real consequences. But if I take off the mask, and I make what we have something real?
Reality can be ugly.
Reality involves flaws. It involves communication beyond spicy DMs. Reality involves problem solving, and sometimes having fights, and figuring out how to move forward from them.
But most of all, making this real could make it something she doesn't want.
Maybe all she wants is a masked fantasy that sweeps her off her feet and then utterly disappears when she needs to go back to her real life.
And if that’s the way things shake out, I’m not sure I’m willing to accept it.
I sigh, glancing at my sister. “Honestly, just needed to clear my head.”
Demi’s brows furrow. “What’s it currently fogged up with?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about—”
“Wait-wait-wait.”
There’s a gleam in her eye as Demi leans in close, peering up into my face.
“Is…” Her eyes widen. “Is it a girl, Lochie? Or—”
“Don’t call me Lochie.”
“Don’t interrupt, Lochie.”
I roll my eyes. “Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that I’ll have graduated before you get to Knightsblood?”
She rolls her eyes. “Fuck off. You’ll miss me. Plus, stop trying to change the subject.” She arches her brows. “Is there a girl?”
“No.”
“Liar.” She peers at me again closely. “I know I’m right. There’s something different about you.” She grins impishly. “Plus, you don’t smell like skank.”
“Yeah,” I grunt, rolling my eyes. “I think we’re done here.”
“How long are you staying?”
I shrug. “Maybe the night? At least through dinner.”
Demi grins. “Then trust me, we are definitely not done here.”
“Kids!” Dad’s voice booms from the kitchen. He sticks his head out the door and grins. “Bold move, leaving your mother and I alone in the kitchen after so rudely interrupting our grownup time. But anyway, lunch is ready.”
“Please take me with you when you go,” Demi groans.