I reach under to move Draven’s hand and lean a little closer toward Alex. “Honestly, I’m not sure what I like. I know that’s a boring answer, but I buried my nose in books when I was in high school and went immediately into St. Andrew’s. I’m not sure it would be appropriate for me to tell you the things I know I like here at the dinner table.”
His gaze finally flicks to mine, the shock in his eyes evident, but he’s saved by the staff bustling in with our cakes.
Mr. and Mrs. Creed both have chocolate, Alexander and I lemon, and Draven is the only one to have chosen pineapple.
I watch him pluck a piece of fruit off the top and pop it into his mouth, licking those sinful fingers clean before he brings us right back to the conversation we all thought we’d escaped. “I think we’re all adults here. Let’s hear those things you like, little keeper.”
“Draven,” Ephraim hisses. “I think that’s enough of you tonight. You’re excused.”
“I’m not done eating.”
He picks up his fork like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but Ephraim slams his fist on the table so hard, his drink spills. “Get. Out.”
Draven’s jaw is so tense in their stare down I think he’s about to challenge his father right here, but instead he catches me by surprise when he relents. “Welcome to the family, Miss Harbough.”
Shoving his plate away, Draven takes his leave without another look back.
The door shuts so lightly it’s jarring. I was expecting it to slam, but the breeze seemingly omnipresent in the house catches it just right. It shuts as quietly as a mouse.
“I’m sorry about that,” Alex says quietly. “You’ll get used to him.”
I doubt that. You don’t get used to men like Draven, the loose cannons with big dreams and enough audacity they might actually achieve them.
Those men don’t allow you to get comfortable. Their patterns change too much, their desires shift like the seasons.
And Draven Creed, well... he doesn’t seem to be an exception.
Six
By the time dinneris over, I’m ready to hide under a pillow. I didn’t realize how badly Draven would be missed until all the attention was on me — and now that everyone else has excused themselves and I’m sitting alone, I let my mask drop.
I’ve never had to deal with families before. I never knew my mother, and my dad has always been more of a guardian than a parent. The Keepers never introduce their subs to anyone at all, and Jacob’s family was overseas the entirety of our relationship.
These people are... flawed. Chaos trapped in pretty, pristine suits and hair pomade. They hate each other, but they agree to pretend not to. For what? No one sees their family dinners. No one even knows the boys exist. And Verna, well... no one would ever expect her to love anyone.
This is my future.