d Elsa is into architecture. Considering I’m a designer, too, I give them pointers about some useful classes I took back at uni.
They’re fun to talk to, and soon enough, none of us are cautious or awkward around each other.
I don’t know how long we spend in my room. But it’s long enough that Levi and Aiden come searching for them.
I make plans to meet Elsa and Astrid for lunch next week, and soon after, they all leave.
I change into my pyjamas and slide under the covers. After checking my emails and texting Layla for a bit, I’m ready to sleep.
Today exhausted the hell out of me. First, work. Then, Alicia’s message. Ending the day with dinner.
The door opens and I know who it is before even seeing him. He’s the only one who barges in uninvited.
His woodsy scent conquers my space before his presence comes into view. My muscles tighten like every time he’s in my vicinity. It always feels like I need to be prepared for him.
“Forget about Aiden.” Jonathan sits on the edge of the bed. He’s in black cotton trousers and a T-shirt. It’s one of the rare times I’ve seen him in house clothes.
“What do you mean forget about him?”
“You’re making plans with Elsa to try to get close to him, aren’t you?”
Yes and no. I do like Elsa’s company, but I also hope I can approach Aiden in the future. Considering his reaction, let’s make that the distant future.
“You don’t want me have a good relationship with your son so that we can’t plot against you?”
“I don’t want you disappointed, because he’s hot-headed.”
My heart thumps. Shit. How can he move me with such simple words?
I clear my throat. “You mean like you.”
“Kind of. It comes with the family name.”
“If I can handle you, I guess I can handle Aiden, too.”
“You can handle me?” He stares down his nose at me. “Where did you get that idea from?”
“Elsa and Astrid think I’m doing it just fine.”
“Elsa and Astrid are still kids.”
“They’re not kids. They’re married to your son and nephew.”
“Who are still kids themselves.”
“By the way. You don’t have to be a dick towards them. They don’t really like you either.”
“I don’t care about being liked.”
“Really?”
He pauses, throwing me an indecipherable glance, then nods. “Being liked doesn’t get things done. Fear, on the other hand…”
“This is your family, Jonathan. They’re not supposed to be scared of you.” My voice raises and I realise I’ve let my own anger get in the way. I whisper, “I didn’t mean to yell.”
He reaches a hand to my hair and I freeze as he strokes it away from my forehead. “Maxim was not your fault, wild one. Tell that to your reflection in the mirror every day and you’ll end up believing it.”
Fat tears fill my eyes and it takes everything in me not to let them loose as I fall into the gentle but firm way he’s stroking my hair.