Calm, Angelika, calm. Just put on a friendly face until Lyosha goes back to Berkeley. He’s not a target for Roy. Don’t do anything to turn him into one.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tolyan
“I don’t like her,” Lyosha says in a low voice the second the little fawn’s disappeared into her room. His green gaze holds mine.
“I would’ve asked if I wanted your opinion.”
“You slept with her!”
“And?” My lip curls with amusement. “Do you think I’ve been living like a monk all these years?”
He gives me an ugly glare, full of teenage bravado and angst.
“Lyosha, I am a man of discipline, but I’m not dead.”
“I don’t need to know about your sex life! It’s disgusting.”
“Then don’t barge into my bedroom. You weren’t dropped off by a stork.”
He looks like he wants to throw up.
“We could’ve given you a brother, although I would prefer a girl,” I add. I’m feeling sadistic enough to torment my son for ruining what would’ve been a lovely, intimate morning. “Girls are softer, prettier… More fun to protect.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Agreed. Now shut up and be nice to her.”
“Make me.” He bares his teeth.
Being away on campus probably made him forget what I’m capable of. Not that I’d use violence against him. But there are other ways to make him obey.
His posture shifts as though he’s just remembered all those ways. He sniffs. “I just don’t like it that you’re forgetting things.” His tone is mulish. Resentful.
I really need to teach this child not to be so easily read. He’s a walking neon sign. “You’re upset because you think I’m getting myself a serious girlfriend, which means the promise I made when you turned ten is no longer important for me to keep.” Ridiculous. He should know better than to think that. “But I haven’t forgotten anything. The Dealer will pay before the year’s over.”
His head snaps up. “Really?”
“Really. But if I’m too busy having to console her because you can’t be a polite, decent human being, I might not have the time.”
He clears his throat, shifting on the stool. “Okay.”
His objection to Angelika isn’t personal, so this should smooth things out. I take out bacon and eggs. Lyosha leans forward.
“But… Dad. Don’t you think she’s too young?”
I stop, then slowly turn to face him. Is this little brat judging me?
“I mean… She barely looks old enough to be a TA,” he says.
“Your point?”
“I’m just saying—”
“Your point?”
He opens his mouth, then thinks better of it.