Micah stiffened at the reference to drugs, but Joelle merely rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to him. I don’t do drugs – well, nothing besides a little ganja here and there, and who doesn’t do that? The only thing I’m high on is life.”

“It’s scary, but true,” the man agreed, offering Micah a little wave. “Hi, I’m Fernando.” So this was Joelle’s on-again-off-again boyfriend. “I’d offer you a handshake, but since Joelle seems intent on suffocating you with her admittedly impressive breasts-”

“That’s enough,” Damon interrupted, rubbing the column of his nose like he was staving off a headache. “Joelle, can you release Micah, please? He hasn’t even had the chance to take off his coat.”

Joelle huffed, but complied. “Sorry about that, Micah. I was just so excited that my brother has finally brought someone to these family dinners, that I forgot myself for a second.”

“That’s alright,” Micah said, “I don’t mind.” And surprisingly, it was true. Sure, Joelle’s greeting had been a bit much, but Micah was an only child who’d always wondered what it would be like to have siblings.

He shrugged off his coat, and Damon hung it up before reluctantly leading him into the living room, where the rest of the party had seemed content to sit back and watch the scene in the entryway.

Damon waited until Joelle and Fernando followed them into the room before introducing Micah. “Good evening, everyone. As I’m sure you heard Joelle exclaim, this is Micah.” He placed a burning hand on the small of Micah’s back. “I expect you all to treat him with the utmost respect. Any slight against him will be viewed as a slight against me, capiche?”

It was an enhanced version of “be nice or else”, which Micah hadn’t been expecting. He couldn’t help but notice that Damon’s eyes had remained locked on one specific person throughout the little speech. Classically handsome, but with gray sprinkled in his hair and beard, he was probably a decade or two older than everyone else gathered, and could only be Damon’s Uncle Marco.