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Victor huffed. “Seems like a pretty fucking straightforward question. Are you sleeping with my sister? All I need is a yes or a no.”

Dean wasn’t sure how to respond, because there was nothing simple about that question. Vivian had specifically asked that they keep this thing between them, and he was pretty damn sure that Victor—after Pip—was on top of the list of people Vivian didn’t want to find out about their affair.

Besides, he wasn’t sure if Victor was fishing or if he knew for a fact what was going on.

“Why would you ask that?”

Victor drew in a deep breath, as if to steady himself. “Belle overheard Viv canceling lunch plans today with someone named Dean. She also mentioned Viv’s been glued to her phone lately and that she wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Viv FaceTiming with a guy one night when she stayed over. Then there was a man’s Stingrays sweatshirt in the laundry the other week. Vivian said she’d borrowed it from you at the firepit a few weeks ago because she was cold and forgot to give it back. Belle accepted that lie at the time, even though she knew Vivian wasn’t wearing that sweatshirt when she left that night. She was wearing one of her own. So I’m asking you again. Are you sleeping with my sister?”

Dean rubbed his jaw wearily, aware he was skating on very thin ice here. “Vic,” he started. “It’s complicated.”

Victor’s expression turned murderous. “Are you dating her?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Is she your girlfriend?”

Dean shook his head—instantly aware that he’d made one hell of a mistake.

“So she’s what?” he yelled. “Some kind of fucking booty call?”

Dean scowled. “No! She’s not a booty call.”

Victor straightened, his fists still clenched. Dean suspected that if he was any other man, Victor would have already laid him out on the ground. It was only the fact that he was Victor’s coach and a friend that had his buddy holding back. For now.

“What the fuck is she if she’s not a booty call and not your girlfriend?”

“Complicated,” Dean replied, because that was the only word he could come up with that worked in this situation.

Victor raked a hand through his long hair roughly. “Yeah? Well, you need to fucking uncomplicate it. Jesus Christ, Dean! You know what Viv has been through. How the hell could you use her⁠—”

“Goddammit! I’m not using Viv,” Dean snapped. “I would never use her. Never hurt her.”

The vehemence in his tone took some of the wind out of Victor’s sails. Dean wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Never, huh?” he said, more to himself than Dean.

“I’m pretty sure Viv doesn’t want more from me than…what we have.” That was nice and vague, but it was the best Dean could come up with.

“Which is?”

Dean shook his head, unwilling to go there. He’d already said too much. “Maybe you should have this conversation with Viv.”

Victor’s shoulders fell as he dropped down in the chair opposite Dean. That change in position didn’t mean he was relaxing. If anything, Victor looked even more keyed up, perched on the edge of the seat, his hands clenched in his lap.

“Believe me, Viv and I are going to talk,” Victor said.

Dean would have to text her after this to warn her. “Pip’s sick, and it sounds like Viv had a rough night last night. Maybe you could…” He let his words fade away, aware he had no right to tell Victor what he should and shouldn’t do in regards to his own sister.

Victor leaned back, crossing his arms. “You’re going to have to make a lot more sense of this, Dean. Give me something more than it’s fucking ‘complicated.’”

Dean wasn’t sure what else he could offer. He’d just been sitting here himself, questioning the wisdom of this relationship.

He wanted Vivian, that much was clear. But was he good for her? She deserved a man who would be there to carry the load with her, to help take care of Pip when she was sick, to share in every aspect of her life—all the good, bad, and ugly parts.

Victor sighed as he continued. “We’ve known each other twelve years, and never once in all that time have you ever been in a real relationship.” Victor closed his eyes for a moment, changing course slightly. “I know you like your affairs casual, but Vivian isn’t a woman you just sleep with, Dean. She’s been with one guy her whole life.” Victor’s jaw tightened, making it clear he understood that was no longer an accurate count. “She’s already had her heart fucking shattered twice—first when we lost our folks and then when Phil died.”

“Vic, I know⁠—”

Victor held up his hand, on a roll. “You’re a good friend. Probably one of my best friends. And on top of that, you’re my coach and my mentor. But none of that will matter at all if you hurt Viv and Pip.”

Dean nodded, his throat too tight to respond.