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“What do you want me to say?” he asked.

I lifted a shoulder. Tried to make it appear casual. “Don’t know.”

He finally looked at me. “You said yes?”

“I didn’t say anything,” I explained. “You’re okay with it if I did say yes?”

He forced out a laugh. “Why wouldn’t I be, Alvin?”

I swallowed. “You tell me, Darius.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything.”

“You’ve spent all morning telling me I’m jealous.”

“Because you are,” I said. He opened his mouth to argue and I cut him off. “You are.”

He yanked his leg away. I went still, but the hope bubble I’d held on to was nearly iridescent by this point.

Dee looked furious and his voice dropped until it sounded absolutely menacing. “Fine. You want me to say it?”

My heart started pounding. “Yes.”

His eyes met mine. “I don’t like him around you.”

“Why?”

“You fucking know why, Alvin.”

“No.” I scooted closer. “Say it.”

His face twisted. “Jesus Christ,” he grunted, his eyes immediately bouncing over to the giant cross in front of the church before returning to me.

“Say it, Dee.”

“You want everything dragged out of me.”

“Because you never give me anything voluntarily.”

His mouth clamped shut. We were close now. Too close for a damn church. The exact kind of close we’d spent years insisting didn’t mean anything.

“You’re jealous,” I whispered.

His eyes dropped to his lap. “Yeah.”

One word. Barely audible. Still. Everything inside me stopped. I should’ve smiled. Should’ve teased him. Should’ve celebrated finally winning the argument I’d been having with him for days. Fuck that, for years.

Instead, my throat tightened. Because suddenly the answer I actually cared about knowing was right there. “So?” I pressed.

“So what?”

I stared at him. Surely he knew. He had to know. I gave him another chance. “You think I should go on the date with Omar, Darius?”

Something broke across his face. Quick pain… and fear. I saw both before he buried them. “Yeah. I do,” he said.

I blinked. “Wait… What?”