I left Smith chatting with my Dad, grabbed a stack of plates, and walked them over to the sink.
Dane came in, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned down. "Is he treating you right?"
I stopped my apprehensive mouth from chewing the inside of my cheek and supplied the most nonchalant face possible. "Of course."
Tension passed through us in waves.
He tilted his head to the side. "Good."
Had he wanted me to say no? Was it a game to him or did he want me to be okay? He was always so competitive. I lifted my chin and eyed him. "Care to explain?"
He blew out an exasperated breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm only checking to make sure he's not being an ass."
"Dane," I began, giving him a warning look. "Isn't it time for you to forgive and forget?"
He raised his hands. "Why are you telling He's the one that flies off the handle."
