"Now, why do you assume I hate him?" I asked, curious and a little surprised because I thought I'd done a good job at keeping my reactions to a minimum.
"Please," Kayden said dryly. "There's only a few reasons you’d keep picking and poking at someone to make them madder. And that's siblings, exes, or you just straight up can't stand someone."
All right, so he was observant and had a good understanding of human nature, making him worth paying attention to. "Aw, maybe it's just because all these years I had a giant, gay crush on him."
Of course, again, that had the exact response I wanted out of Jace, who immediately forgot about his friend and whirled on me, nostrils flaring. "You son of a?—"
"Mom!" a new voice piped up, sounding indignant.
I glanced over to see my nephew marching up to us with all the dignity and indignation that an eight-year-old could hold. Once he reached Moira, his hands balled into fists, which he promptly shoved against his hips and stared up at her. “Yousaid we could go to the Natural History Museum today."
"Yes, Micah," Moira said, and I glanced at the odd note to her voice as she reached out to ruffle his dark hair. "I know, but you also decided to take your sweet time showing up today. Maybe you should figure out how to pull your nose out of whatever you're doing. I tried to get your attention three times earlier. You're old enough to know when you need to pull yourself back to the real world, or there might be consequences."
Micah gave another huff, now crossing his arms and scowling at his mother. "You promised."
"And you," she said, glancing up quickly and then back down to her son, "promised you would start working on listening to me. Now, can we talk about this later? I'm having a conversation at the moment."
"Sounded more like arguing."
"Sometimes they're the same thing. Now, can you go?"
He turned to me. “Mason, help me?"
The kid hadneverbeen fond of using the 'uncle' title for any of us, so I didn't bat an eye at the use of my first name. That he was trying to get backup against his mother was also completely unsurprising. He was a smart kid, too smart at times, and had absolutely no shame or hesitation in calling in backup if he realized he was outmatched. More curious was how desperate Moira was to get rid of him when normally she was so damned proud of him, deservedly so as far as I was concerned, that she loved having him around, no matter what she was doing.
"Not sure I’d be much help," I told him slowly, watching the outrage spread over his face as his source of aid completely failed him. It was such an adult expression that I started to smile until something seized in my head, and I felt my breath catch. I stared at my nephew's scowling face, still chubby from baby fat, but it would eventually shave off with age and leave behind harder lines and edges. Scowls and glares had always come easily to him, a product of what I assumed came from his serious mother.
My eyes slid up, seemingly of their own accord, and I stared at Jace, who was still glaring at me, but he had adjusted his features in the presence of a child. His expression flickered as he saw something in my face that gave him pause before I looked down at my nephew again, looking into eyes so dark that in the dim lighting of the bar, one could be forgiven for thinking they were black.
"I think you should...listen to your mom for now. I'll take you tomorrow, even if I have to pick you up and drag you out so you remember," I said, and my attention turned to my sister. To her credit, her expression didn't change, but I knew her better than anyone, possibly better than she did herself. If she could havesilently found a way to beg me to keep my mouth shut, she would have been shouting in my head.
Micah groaned. “Fine, you promise?"
"I promise."
"Even the dragging part?"
"Especiallythe dragging part. I might do it just for the fun of it and to hear you complain."
"Well...okay," he said, eyeing his mother and patting her arm. "That okay?"
"I don't have much say when it comes to your uncles, we all know that," she said, which was an outright lie. Not one of us would dare undermine her when it came to her son...not while both of them were in the same room. Now, if we happened to let him get away with things without her around to say no, or if she complained to us out of earshot of Micah and we dismissed her...well, that was just uncle privilege. "Now get going, and get something to eat on the way out."
Jace flashed the kid a smile as Micah turned to look up at him curiously, but not for a moment did I see the slightest flicker of recognition on his face. I wanted to laugh because, of course, he didn't see it. How likely was it that someone would recognize themselves in child form? I wasn't surprised, though, to see Jace's friend glance between the two of them and his eyes widen so far that I wondered if it might actually be possible for them to fall out.
"You look mean," Micah said, and I failed at choking back a laugh.
"Micah Renaldo!" Moira scolded. "What did I say about blurting things out without considering if it might be rude?"
"He's right," Jace said with a shrug, smiling down at the boy. "I get told that all the time. But your mom's right, not everyone is going to take it well when you say stuff like that to their face."
"People are sensitive. Too sensitive."
"They can be."
"It's annoying."
"Oh...it definitely can be."
