“But I didn’t say this.” He gave me a long look. “My brother didn’t cheat on you. He had a moment of weakness ‘cause that club was sinking you both and he was half out of his mind and fucking stressed out ‘cause you two were at each other’s throats. Right?”
Whatever.
“And he didn’t sleep with a guy. He slept with a woman. Doesn’t that make a difference to you? I mean, doesn’t it?” Boone blew out a sharp breath. “To me, it seems, that it should make a difference. It feels like it’s not cheating.”
Yes, Bump, I know. I know. Terrible
“This is your argument?” I said, raising an eyebrow. I stood and picked up our empty bottles. “Thank you for coming and for dinner and—”
“You said you’d listen.” He shot me a sad look.
How could I resist? I sat again. “What.”
“When my brother—” Boone stopped, frowned. “Man, I’m no good with words.” He sighed.
He’s such a good and sane man. I don’t know why he’d choose me as a best friend.