I squeezed my eyes shut. “Yes, I’m going to deny it.”
“Okay. You do you,” he retorted. “Did you get those dates?”
“Oh, yes, thank you. They all work except Sundays. Family dinner happens every Sunday, rain or shine, sleet or snow.”
“Right. Okay, we’ll find an alternative,” he said.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
I sighed. “I’m really sorry I was short with you earlier.”
“It’s all good, Breezy.”
I ran my hand over my comforter as I shook my head. “No, it’s really not. My brother was over, and I guess I just let my frustration get the better of me.”
“Yeah? Did you get the information you wanted?”
“Sort of.”
“Do I want to know?” he asked.
“Probably not. Plus, I don’t know how much I can share. I’ll ask Luca and get back to you.” He sighed and I wrinkled my nose. “Look, Noah. Either you start answering my questions, or I’m going to get the information in ways you might not approve of.”
“You doin’ that thing with your nose right now?”
I rubbed my nose and frowned. “Stop it.”
He chuckled. “I told you I’d answer any question you had, provided it’s not about my club and I want to answer it.”
“Did your president kill someone?”
“Your brother tell you that?” he asked.
“He suspects it, yes.”
“Well, that falls under club business, Breezy, so I’m not answering it.”
“So that’s a yes,” I sassed.
“Swear to God, Sabrina, you can’t assume that it’s a yes or a no based on me sayin’ I’m not answerin’ it. Because, for instance, if you assume this question is a yes, and you tell someone else that, you could bring a world of hurt down on me and my club and that will not stand.”
“I would never, ever, share any of that to anyone,” I said. “I would never repeat anything you told me, either.”
“Not even with your brother?”
“Especiallynot my brother,” I avowed.
“I’d like to believe that, Sabrina, but you’ll have to excuse me for being leery.”
I chewed on my thumbnail. “I get it.”
“You still pissed at me?”
I dropped my head back and stared at the ceiling. “I wasn’t pissed at you.”
“Bullshit.”
