And when he thought it couldn’t get any better, she shifted so she was straddling him, and if he hadn’t invited so many damned people, he would have flown her straight up to his bedroom and proved exactly how he felt about her.
He’d missed her and he hadn’t even known what he’d been missing.
And now that he’d found her . . . he wasn’t letting go.
Seeing his mother looming over his bed on New Year’s Day did nothing to help the aching in Deacon’s head. “Deacon Elias Ashford, I swear, if you step out of line even one more time, you’ll be shipped off to London so fast…”
“It was just a harmless prank.” The pounding only increased when he thought of the state his house was currently in.
She threw a newspaper on top of his duvet. “When are you going to grow up?”
“Never. That’s kind of the point.”
“Do you realize how suspicious outsiders can be?” she said, stalking toward the window and back again.
As he’d suspected, the headlines were full of theories from his excursion with Ethan to Pennsylvania. “I hardly think their go-to theory is that Peter Pan is real and his descendants must have purchased Christmas lights at a very reasonable price to illuminate a few church steeples.”
She massaged her temples. “What about HOOK?”
“You think outsiders will suspect HOOK did this?”
“Stop being a smartass.” She tore the paper from his grasp and rattled it in his face. “You’ve drawn their attention once again.”
She really needed to lighten up.
He laced his fingers behind his head and settled deeper under the covers. “If anything, I’ve moved dear Lawrence’s focus toward Pennsylvania.”
“That’s not how I see it.”
“Grandad has done much worse. Do you remember the time he and Curly went to the Tower and—”
“What happens in London is your grandad’s concern,” she snapped, clenching her free hand in a fist at her hip. “What happens in Kensington is mine. And I hear there’s been a lot happening when I go out of town.”
“Like what?” he asked with a lazy yawn.
“Fist fights, rebellious meetings, ghosts, Christmas lights…” Her eyes narrowed. “Kissing new recruits.”
Good news traveled fast in Neverland.
“So that’s what this is really about.” Deacon threw the covers aside and dragged his shirt from the night before over his head. It still smelled like lilacs from Vivienne’s perfume. “We have this exact argument every time you think I’m interested in someone.” And none of those arguments had made a blind bit of difference.
“Only because you never seem to learn your lesson.” His mother poked him in the back. “It’s like you hear, ‘Relationships between PAN are discouraged,’ and think, ‘Nah. Doesn’t suit me. I’m not going to bother with that one.’”
His eyes met hers in his mirror’s reflection. “Hmmm…Perhaps you really can hear my thoughts.” He collected the rubbish from his dresser, tossed it into the bin, and went downstairs to survey the damage. It was freezing. Someone must’ve left the window open.
The stench of cigarettes clung to the cold air. The sofa and chairs that had been relocated to make way for the dance floor were covered with damp stains, upturned plastic cups, and discarded jackets and jumpers—none of which belonged to him.
His mother was on his heels the entire time. “All I’m going to say on the subject is that you need to be careful.”
He offered her a look of pure innocence. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
His mother’s pinched expression lasted for all of ten seconds. “You know Vivienne is linked to HOOK somehow. And for your own safety, I think you should leave her be until we figure out what the link is.”
“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Mother.” The empty trays Nicola had used to collect champagne flutes after the midnight toast were scattered on the island.
“That remains to be seen.” His mother stepped over a pile of discarded metallic hats on her way to the kitchen. “But that’s not why I came over.”
“Is it not?” He navigated the disarray, found two bottles of water in the nearly-empty fridge, and offered the second one to her.
“Ever since that fight a few months ago, your antics have caught the attention of Leadership.” She plucked the bottle from his hand with a sigh. “And if you don’t stop this reckless behavior, there will be consequences.”
That probably should have worried him, but Leadership’s penchant for inaction was legendary.
After a century, HOOK continued to terrorize the PAN, the Mermaids were demanding seats in the Leadership Chamber, and memory loss was becoming more widespread. He was the least of their worries.
“I appreciate your concern, Mother,” he said, lifting to sit on the edge of the sticky counter and closing the window over the sink. “But I’ll be all right.”
“I’d prefer if you’d say you’ll be good,” she muttered, tugging the string of one of the few balloons still milling around the ceiling.
“All right, all right.” He slid off the counter, accidentally crushing a plastic tiara. “I’ll be good.”
“Thank you.” She went around the room collecting the balloons. “Whose idea was it for all of these?”
Deacon found a roll of rubbish bags beneath the sink and set out the tub of cleaning products. This was going to take ages. “How do you know it wasn’t mine?”
“You’re my son. I know you better than you think.” She opened her arms to him, and he went to her without hesitation. “I love you. You make me want to rip out my hair most of the time. But I love you.”
With balloons banging against his head, he said, “I love you too.”
“For once, will you please do what you’re told before I’m forced to do something that would make both of us miserable?”
He picked up a wine key from the counter and popped the first balloon. “I’ll certainly try.”
Max was already in the Aviary when Vivienne and Emily arrived for their first class of the new year. Vivienne waved at him. He returned the gesture, then continued stretching his hamstrings.
“How was England?” she asked.
“Harrow’s pretty awesome, but I was only there for a day.”
“Where else did you go?” Emily drew her arm across her chest. Her cheeks were pink from the biting cold outside.
“There’s a mansion in Scotland where they bring PAN with Alzheimer’s. It’s kinda like a fancy hospital but doesn’t have that weird smell.”
“Your dad isn’t the only one?” Vivienne held onto her ankle with one hand and steadied herself on Emily’s shoulder with the other. She swore she could hear her quad muscle sigh as it stretched.
“I counted ten other PAN. And there are nurses round the clock.”
Vivienne switched legs. “What was it like meeting your dad?”
“Like meeting a new friend. We even played a bit of soccer when it wasn’t raining. They closed for visitors when it got dark, which is crazy early, like three thirty in the afternoon. When I got there the second day, it was like someone had pressed reset on Dad’s brain. He couldn’t remember a thing from the day before. I had to reintroduce myself and everything.”