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He glances over at me and smirks. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
I huff out a breath. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“Bullshit.” He takes another deep drink, emptying his wineglass and grabbing the bottle in the middle of the table to refill it. “I know something went down.”
“Went down where?” I play aloof.
“With you and my boy.”
I roll my eyes. “Your boy? Seriously?”
“What? He’s been my boy since we were kids.”
“I know,” I reply softly, letting go of the joke I was going to say. It hurts to just talk about him.
“Just tell me what’s going on. He’s acting like a wounded puppy, won’t stop working or working out and you’re faking sick, missing Graham and Quinn’s announcement and moping when Mama made you your favorite dish. Something’s wrong.”
I sigh, thinking about Quinn. Turns out, the reason Graham was acting off was because he was gearing up to ask her to marry him. And his “date” with Alex was to go ring shopping. I was impressed the little lady could keep such a big secret. I was bummed thinking about missing them announcing it, but I didn’t want to bring down the mood, and I wasn’t ready to see Archer in person. Not yet.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Bullshit,” he repeats. “Tell me.”
I eye my brother and he eyes me right back, unblinking. I stare until he breaks and then laughs. “You were always really bad at those.”
“I don’t want to play games,” he says, almost angrily and I stare at him in confused amusement.
“You sure you don’t have something to say?”
“I have plenty to say, so I’ll start.” He clears his throat and I note that everyone around us is ignoring our conversation, thank God. “I think that you are in love with my best friend.”
I audibly gasp and stare at my brother in shock. “What?”
“Yup.” He pops thepand takes another sip of wine. “I also think he’s in love with you.”
My eyes water and I clear my throat, trying to compose myself. “Th-that’s not—”
“Don’t lie to me.” He glares at me, his features softening when he sees a tear slip from my eye. “Don’t lie, Viv. I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
“No,” he replies, taking my hand with his own. “I don’t know why you two are so sad about it though.”
“We… we broke up.”
Enzo rears back like he got slapped and I’d laugh at the comical look on his face if I wasn’t so heartbroken. “You broke up?”
“Who broke up?”
Of course… ofcoursethis is the moment my mama interjects herself into the conversation.
“No one, Mama,” I reply, giving Enzo a look.
“You said she broke up with someone.” Mama points an accusing finger at Enzo and he sinks into his chair. Honestly… he’s thirty.
“I—I—”
“Man up,” I hiss at him.
