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“Miami.”

Of course they were in Miami. The story practically writes itself.

“Were you working?”

Roman and Beck exchange a look.

“Sort of,” Beck says.

“What's sort of?”

“Not important.”

Fine.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“No,” Roman snaps.

“Did she want to sleep with you?”

“Probably,” Beck says.

“I'm going to fucking kill you.”

I slap my hand on the counter. “I knew it.”

“You don't know anything.”

“She kept looking at him,” Beck continues.

Roman stares at him.

I stare at Beck. “Why?”

“Because of his lips.”

Roman closes his eyes. “Oh my God, Beckett.”

“She was very concerned about them.”

I’m thoroughly confused.

Roman's eyes open. There is murder in them.

Beck finally loses it.

I look between them. “What?”

Roman says nothing.

Beck is laughing too hard to answer me.

“What happened?”

Roman rubs a hand over his face.

“He burned his mouth,” Beck says.