"So, when are you going to ask him the big question?" Dante's voice drifted into the living room, cutting through the warmth of the evening as I was trying—unsuccessfully—to concentrate on my book.
I glanced up, caught off guard by the unexpected inquiry. Dante leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a playful glint in his blue eyes.
"What?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat.
"You know," Dante said with a shrug, looking far too smug for my liking. "The one that's been hanging in the air since high school graduation. 'Are you going to marry my sister or what?'" He tilted his head, smirking as if he had all the answers.
I felt my face flush as I closed my book a little too forcefully. "Dante, that's not funny."
He raised his hands in mock defense. "What? It's a legit question. You've been living with the guy for what? Almost a year now? At some point, you're going to have to put your family out of its misery and answer it."
