Seraphina’s POV
Damien stood there like a marble statue of masculine territorial fury, his jaw clenched so tightly I was genuinely concerned about his dental health. His silver-blue eyes were fixed on Caleb.
anwhile, Caleb was maintaining his perfectly polite.
Ophelia nudged Damien with her elbow in a gesture so casual and familiar that it would have been sisterly if not for the mischievous glint in her brown eyes.
"Damien," she said in a stage whisper that was absolutely ant to be heard by everyone present, "are you jealous?"
He didn’t acknowledge Ophelia’s question. Didn’t even look at her. Just continued glaring at Caleb like he was personally responsible for every inconvenience that had ever occurred in the history of the world.
The awkwardness reached new and previously unexplored heights.
Adrian, who had been remarkably patient with all the adult weirdness swirling around him, finally decided he’d had enough of being ignored and tugged on Damien’s pant leg.
"Are we still having dinner?" he asked with the kind of practical five-year-old logic that cut straight through all the emotional nonsense. "Because I’m really hungry, and the pasta slls really good."
Caleb imdiately stepped forward, that easy smile returning to his face as he focused on Adrian rather than the adults who were apparently incapable of normal social interaction.
"You know what, buddy?" he said, his voice warm and genuinely friendly. "I think I should probably find a hotel for tonight anyway. I don’t want to impose on your family dinner any more than I already have."
The guilt hit like a physical blow. Here was this man who had driven ho safely, helped cook dinner, chard my son, and sohow managed to remain pleasant despite Damien’s barely concealed hostility, and now he was gracefully trying to remove himself from a situation that had beco uncomfortable entirely because of our relationship drama.
"Caleb," I started, but he held up a hand to stop .
"Really, Sera, it’s no trouble at all," he said, and I could tell he ant it. "I saw a few decent-looking places on the way into town. I’ll just grab a room for the night and head back north first thing in the morning."
"This is ridiculous," I said, my frustration finally bubbling over. "Caleb, you drove ho safely, helped carry my things, cooked dinner with us, and were nothing but kind and helpful..." I gestured helplessly, searching for words that could adequately express how wrong this felt. "It’s not fair."
“ I think that’s a wonderful idea!" she said with far too much enthusiasm. "Damien, you’d be happy to have Caleb stay with you, wouldn’t you?"
The look Damien shot her could have lted steel. "Ophelia—"
"I an, it’s the neighborly thing to do," she continued, completely ignoring his warning tone. "And Caleb seems like such pleasant company. I’m sure you two will get along famously once you get to know each other better."
Finally, Damien turned to Caleb with what could generously be described as resigned acceptance.
"Of course," he said, his voice carefully controlled. "You’re welco to stay in my guest room tonight."
The words sounded like they were being extracted from him with pliers, but at least he was saying them.
Caleb studied Damien for a long mont, and I could practically see him weighing his options. He could gracefully decline and remove himself from this obviously uncomfortable situation. Or he could accept the offer and spend the evening in what would probably be the most awkward sleepover in the history of adult male friendships.
To my surprise, he smiled—a genuine, warm expression that sohow managed to be both friendly and slightly challenging.
"I appreciate the offer," he said. "And I accept."
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably only twenty minutes, Damien and Caleb were ready to leave. They stood by my front door, Damien looking like he was facing a root canal and Caleb looking like he was finding the whole situation far more amusing than he probably should.
"Thank you for dinner," Caleb said to , his smile warm and genuine. "And for the company. It’s been a long ti since I’ve had such an enjoyable evening."
Then he turned to include Adrian, Ophelia, and in his final farewell, and the words that ca out of his mouth were so perfectly, charmingly ridiculous that I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud.
"Good night, two beautiful ladies and one talented little boy."
Adrian giggled delightedly at being called talented, Ophelia practically preened under the complint, and I found myself shaking my head in amused disbelief at the man’s sheer audacity.
And then they were gone. Ophelia and I stood in the doorway, watching their retreating figures disappear down the hallway toward the elevator. The silence stretched between us as we listened to the faint ding of the elevator arrival, the soft whoosh of doors opening and closing, and then nothing.
"Well," Ophelia said eventually, her voice rich with amusent, "that was certainly educational."
I snorted with laughter, all the tension of the evening finally finding an outlet.
"I give it about two hours before one of them kills the other," she continued thoughtfully. "Though I’m not sure which one my money should be on."
"They’re grown n," I said, though even I could hear the lack of conviction in my voice. "I’m sure they’ll be perfectly civil."
Ophelia turned to look at with one eyebrow raised in the kind of expression that suggested she thought I’d lost my mind.
"Sera, sweetie," she said gently, "the sexual tension in that room was so thick I’m surprised we didn’t all suffocate. And I’m not talking about the romantic kind."
We stood there for another mont, both of us staring down the empty hallway like we expected to hear the sounds of combat echoing from the elevator shaft.
“Hope they will not kill each other.”
Finally, I sighed and closed the door.
"Co on," I said to Ophelia, "let’s go have so wine and pretend we didn’t just unleash the most awkward sleepover in the history of adult masculinity."
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