Page 122 of Crazed

I shake my head at Pina, snapping, "Hope you enjoyed the show."

"I actually think Chanel is the most interesting character," she admits.

"What?" I ask in shock.

"Sure. She's into girls...but not. I wonder if she's ever been to the club. I bet she's watched a lot of things," Pina states.

"What club?" Katiya questions.

Pina dramatically opens her mouth then replies, "What? Massimo didn't take you to the club yet? Especially with what you're into?"

"Meaning?" Katiya pushes.

Pina's smirk grows, but it's also laced with disgust. She turns to Tristano. "Ask him. He was there just the other night."

"I told you I had to go for work."

She puts her hand on her hip. In an annoyed voice, she answers, "Sure. I could work on Fifth Avenue at two in the morning, too. Would you like that?"

He groans. "How many times—"

"This is the thing about men in their thirties. You only know how to play," she argues.

He slides his hands in his hair. "Are you kidding me? This is getting old, Pina."

Holy shit.

"Are you two fucking?" I ask incredulously.

They freeze. The color drains from their cheeks.

"You are!" I shout.

My brother sniffs hard.

Pina spins and claims, "I never confirmed that."

"You didn't deny it, either," Katiya mumbles.

"You don't have a place to talk. This is about you two and your issues. Not—" She snaps her mouth shut.

Katiya glares at them. "Not about you two?"

"Kind of hypocritical, don't you think?" I say to Katiya.

She nods. "Totally."

Uncomfortable silence fills the dock. I finally break it by saying, "Dante's going to kill you."

"Shut up," Tristano barks.

I chuckle. "Come on, dolce. We're on vacation. Just ignore them while they sit on their high horses."

She lifts her head higher, and we return to the bungalow. When we get to the end, I've cooled off. This new little revelation of my brother's is too good for me not to find out more. I glance back and ask, "Well? Are you coming for a drink or not?"

Pina shoots Tristano a look of death then marches toward me. He follows while scowling.

"Sit," I order, pointing to the chair.

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