Page 12 of Masked Sins
“And how’s ballet intensive?” my dad asks.
I can feel Orion’s eyes on me as I finish chewing. “It’s great. The kids are so grown this year, and they’ve improved a lot since last year.”
“They’re lucky to have you as their teacher,” my dad replies, smiling at me.
“Thanks, Dad.”
I avoid glancing at Orion.
“And when do you return to PBC?” he continues, referring to Pacific Ballet Company.
“In two weeks.”
“Well, put me down for a ticket for every Saturday show.”
I beam at him. “You know you don’t have to come every weekend, right?”
He scoffs. “Please. I’m retired now. What else do I have to do with my time?”
“And what will happen when I go somewhere else? Are you going to follow me?”
At this, I see Orion stiffen in my peripheral. I let my eyes rove over to his face for the first time since we sat down, and his eyes bore into mine with such intensity that I nearly choke on my mouthful of mashed potatoes.
He holds eye contact while he raises his water glass, sipping slowly so that I have no choice but to watch as it bobs down his throat. He has a bit of scruff shadowing his jaw and neck—much shorter than he used to wear it—and it takes me a second to realize he’s drinking water.Notalcohol.
In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw him with a drink. Even at Zoe and Liam’s wedding a few months ago, he had a bottle of sparkling water.
“We’ll see. Maybe Ri and I will fly out to whatever exotic place you’ll be next. Austria. France. Sweden.”
I huff a laugh as I sip my beer, finally breaking eye contact with the person I once considered a brother by circumstance.
“I think Orion has enough on his plate.”
I allow another look at him, and he’s watching me with narrowed eyes. He looks like he wants to say something—like he has a secret he’s dying to spill—but he shrugs and takes another sip of water.
“Whatever you want to do, Scotty,” he drawls, looking at me before looking at my dad.
They start talking about Orion’s newest bike—a sleek black something or other out front. My dad rode Harleys before I was born, so they’ve bonded over bikes. Once we all finish eating, and before I can protest, my dad stands up and begins clearing the table.
As he leaves the room, I feel Orion’s eyes on me again.
“Ice cream?” he asks, cocking his head. “I brought your favorite.”
He knows strawberry is my favorite and one of the only things that can win me over. Many of our childhood fights were solved with a sneaky cone of the creamy pink ice cream.
“Okay. Um, I’ll get it,” I say quickly.Anythingso that I don’t have to be alone with him.
Inside the kitchen, I pull down two bowls. “Are you having ice cream, Dad?” I ask, though I already know what he’s going to say.
“No thanks, La-La. Sugars are still on the downslide, so I’d like to keep it that way,” he adds, giving me a rueful but jaunty smile.
“You should be proud of yourself,” I tell him, placing a few generous scoops in each bowl for Orion and me. “I know how much you love sugar, so this can’t be easy.”
He walks over to me and kisses the top of my head. “I do, but I love the idea of watching my grandchildren grow up even more.”
I snort. “That’s presumptuous. I don’t even know if I want kids, Dad.”
“Orion does, so at least I’ll get some with him,” he adds casually.
