He laughs. “I don’t have you on a pedestal. I know all about your chaos, babe. C’mon. You need to eat. You get like this when you’ve been without food for too long.”
I do? Can that be true? I eye him suspiciously. “Are you treating me like a grown toddler?”
“Aren’t we all? When I get hungry, I storm around like a prairie bear. You know that.”
He really does. “Okay.”
“And we’ve been away long enough, Gem will have dinner well underway. You’ll help him when we get back.”
“Yes, Sir.”
We climb out of the spring. He lets his star shine bright and hot enough that his pants dry. His shirt is dirty from cleaning me, so he’s nice and shirtless under that jacket, all the way back to camp.
* * *
I realize two things I didn’t before. One, my brother has no table etiquette to speak of. How will Gemini—the epitome of manners—stand him for thousands of years? Two, love really is blind, because see realization one. Gem’s doe-eyed and attentive like my brother hung both moons and it’s sickening.
Meanwhile, I can’t drum up one love-sick gaze. I brought Zhang his meal. I’ve mostly called him “Sir”, but we are with our casual company, so I haven’t been strict and neither has he, so I’ve made a home in his lap. Sitting in one’s husband’s lap is not protocol, but it’s freaking Atlanta out despite him trying to act otherwise, and I like that.
I also like Zhang’s lap.
I know I like Sir’s lap. I mentally add that to my growing list to tell him later.
“What’s your plan for the angel, Trey? Don’t say ignore the problem until it goes away,” Atlanta says, ruining our couples-in-lust vibe.
“But that’s exactly how you deal with a narcissist,” I counter.
“He’s not going to go away,” Atlanta says, pointing his fork at me. Food flies onto the table.
“As if I’d allow Treyu to do that,” Zhang says.
I use a piece of bread to sop up some of the juices from his plate. They’ve mixed with the butter and there’s lots of nice salt. It’s savory and decadent. “Where did you learn how to cook, Gem?” It wasn’t the palace.
“My time as a human.”
Looks like that’s the only way Centauruses learn domestics.
“Do you happen to have a plan, babe?” If they’re not leaving until the Merrick thing’s done, we need to get that done. As much as I don’t want them gone, they need to fucking go. They can’t hide here forever. Sooner or later, they’ll be caught.
“To use the political system. My father will go to the Guild. The Guild will explain to Merrick he can’t take you away on a whim.”
“Even my idea is better than that. He already knows he’s not following the law,” I complain.
“I know, but it will buy us time for my real plan,” Zhang says.
“I love secret-real-plan plan.”
“I’m going to have the guardians send him back to Atlantis.”
“Awesome! Love that for him.”
“See,” Atlanta chimes in. “You’ll need me for that.”
“You’re going to risk being seen,” I argue, though, I’m officially going to stop wasting my breath saying that. That was my last time.
“Doesn’t matter. Gem has the stargate. If I’m discovered, we book it out of here.”
“Gemini must know that Father’s negotiating a marriage for him,” Zhang says, all his darkness focused on Gem.
