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“What is it?” Bryce’s voice is low. He dips his chin to view my expression.
“Maybe we should have warned them. I haven’t seen your parents in years. Sergei has no idea. This feels like a lot while we’re surrounded by screaming seven-year-olds.”
His thumb and finger lightly pinch my chin to tilt my face up. “This is about us. If they needed a warning, that’s on them. Besides, Alec and Cale won’t let anything distract from the party. It’s their birthday, and that’s what matters. If things get weird, just scream like a seven-year-old.”
“Thanks, Bryce.” I snicker. “I needed to hear that.”
I’m about to walk ahead of him, but he hooks his finger on the belt loop behind my jeans. I’m pulled back against his shoulder. He tilts his head to kiss me.
“What’s taking you so long! I saw the Suburbans pull up and—” Maeve stops in her tracks, her mouth open and staring at us.
“Hey, Aunt Maeve,” Bryce says with a boyish grin. I smile and wave, not quite trusting my vocal cords. I feel the heat of Bryce’s kiss throughout my flushed face.
She comes closer and hugs me before opening her arms wider to get Bryce into the huddle. Then she says the last thing I expect.
“You two waited long enough to make each other happy. Finally!” Maeve exclaims.
“What?” Surprise makes me croak.
“Ana!” My brother’s voice booms over the buzz of excited kids. I’m pulled into the center of a lobby while Sergei, Cale, and Alec welcome me with boisterous cheers. Skinny arms wrap around my waist, and I kiss the top of two sweaty heads.
If Cale didn’t follow Alec out of the womb two minutes later, you’d hardly believe they were twins. Cale is dark haired and has brown eyes, the miniature version of Sergei. Alec is blond with the MacElroys’ light eyes. One time, Maeve showed me a picture of Bryce as a baby alongside a picture of Alec. Those two looked identical.
The twins are beautiful, healthy, boisterous boys. Perfect nephews I intend to spoil for the rest of their lives.
I get a full minute of hugging before the boys launch themselves at Bryce. “Monkey attack!” Bryce yells, setting Cale on his shoulders while swinging Alec who is clinging to his arm. Bryce’s contracted muscles and megawatt smile are breathtaking to behold. I’m not the only one who notices. A group of mothers are practically salivating, openly staring at my man’s butt. I glare past his shoulder.
“Give your cousin a proper hello, boys! He isn’t a monkey bar, you know,” Maeve scolds.
Although Bryce is older than me, he’s technically the cousin because his father is Maeve’s much older brother.
The MacElroys are a tight, affectionate clan. My last year of high school living in Columbus was an astonishing glimpse of what a family should be. But the experience was also bittersweet. It was a reminder of what my childhood lacked.
Sergei and I were kept apart for years. Our parents provided materially but were emotionally absent. They could barely see past their personal agendas to sit down and have dinner with us.
I shake off the thought and wrap my arms around Sergei’s waist. His arm over my shoulder is a familiar comfort. What a great dad he’s turning out to be, emotionally and physically present for his family every day.
“No need for the gifts,” he says, gesturing at the bags and boxes Kina and Louis are carrying to a table that’s already overflowing with presents.
“Oh, those are all from Bryce. I got the boys drum lessons. Already have the drum sets delivered and set up at your house.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Why not? Did you prefer bagpipe lessons?”
“Ana,” he growls a warning.
“Drums it is. They could start a rock and roll band. Don’t you want to be Mr. Cool Dad?”
He smirks. “I’m already Mr. Cool Dad.”
“Yeah? Is that why you cried during their kindergarten graduation?” I tease, having snapped the visual evidence of Sergei’s coolness: a massive hockey player with tears flowing as his boys march across a cafeteria stage.
“You cried too,” he says with a squeeze of my shoulder. That I did.
“We’re gonna need some socks over here,” Sergei yells over my head.
“Did you say socks?” I ask.
