I drop a pin, my thumb hovering before I add the kicker.
 
 Me: I want to introduce you to my brother.
 
 I hit send before I can chicken out.
 
 Then I stare.
 
 And wait.
 
 The screen stays blank.
 
 No reply. No dots. Just the harsh glow of expectation burning into my retinas.
 
 Maybe he’s just busy, I lie to myself, heart pounding like a drumline. Maybe his phone’s dead. Maybe he’s?—
 
 …
 
 I suck in a breath, not realizing I’d been holding it.
 
 Then the dots disappear.
 
 Pop back up.
 
 …
 
 Disappear again.
 
 My pulse pounds in my ears. “Answer me back, you motherfucker,” I hiss at the phone like it owes me something, frantically waving my hand through the lingering weed smoke like that’ll help.
 
 Finally—ping.
 
 Bane: I don’t know. I might have to be on a call with the worship committee tonight. Can we have your brother over for dinner another time?
 
 I blink.
 
 The worship committee?
 
 WORSHIP COMMITTEE?
 
 Me: Lie
 
 My thumbs type furiously.
 
 Me: You just said you were free.
 
 He tries to call me, but I silence it. More fucking smooth talk isn’t going to cut it. I’m seeing red. The petty, righteous kind that demands satisfaction. My thumbs fly over the screen.
 
 Me: I’m at work
 
 I type, fingers hitting the keys like they personally offended me.
 
 Me: And maybe I’m done with your secrets. Meet me tonight where I said or we’re over.
 
 Send.
 
 The second it flies off, regret crashes into me like a freight train.
 
 Fuck. Did I just ultimatum him?