“The Arsenal game.”
“You don’t follow Arsenal.”
“Luis said they’d win. I said they wouldn’t, so he owes me a quid.”
“He doesn’t even like football.”
“No, but his dad did.”
It bothered Paolo that Toni knew that and he didn’t. They’d had so many heavy conversations recently, the small stuff, like learning what the other liked, outside of epic blowjobs, had fallen by the wayside. “Fine. I’ll tell him when I see him.”
“When will that be?”
“Tomorrow. At work.”
“He’s not staying over?”
“No. He doesn’t do that every night.”
“Why not?”
“Why would he?”
Toni gave Paolo the kind of look that would’ve been better coming from Nonna. “I thought you two were courting?”
“What? When have I evercourtedanyone? Have you regressed to your childhood?”
“I don’t know what else you would call it, boy. He didn’t talk about you like someone you’d meet on that sex app on your phone.”
“Grindr isn’t a sex app,” Paolo lied for the millionth time. “And I don’t have it on my phone anymore.”
“Because you’re courting Luis?”
“Because I don’t use it anymore.”
“Because you’re—”
“Stop saying that.” Paolo reached for a biscuit and pretended to shove it in Toni’s mouth to shut him up. “I don’t know if Luis is staying over tonight, okay? He left work early.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. He might’ve gone to see his brother.”
Toni sobered. The playfulness in his old eyes dulled. “His brother? He told me he didn’t want anything to do with him.”
“I don’t think he does, but Dante came looking for him today.”
“Where?”
“At the cafe.”
“Oh.” Toni sat back in his chair. “That’s not good.”
Paolo sighed. “I was hoping you’d think it was nothing to worry about.”
“Of course it’s something to worry about. That brother is scum. We don’t want his kind in our place or around Luis.”
“We don’t get to pick his family for him.”
