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“Do not make me invoke the full name.”

Sloane cringed. “Mama.”

“Don’t you ‘Mama’ me. You tell me what’s got you in such a foul mood.”

“It’s nothing, Mama,” Sloane protested.

“You got to the count of five.”

Sloane tightened his grip. “I don’t negotiate with terrorists.”

“One.”

“Mom, seriously.”

“Two.”

“I’m not ten years old anymore!”

“Three.”

“It won’t work.”

“Four.”

“Mama…”

“Fi—”

“Dean and I had a fight!” Sloane finally snapped.

There was another pause, followed by a sigh. “Well, that explains why you’re not talking about this with him, at least.”

Sloane slumped onto his couch. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“Honey, you two have been friends since you met, what, six years ago?”

“Sounds right.”

“It’s honestly a surprise you haven’t fought until now.”

Sloane frowned. “Thanks, Mom.”

She huffed. “You listen to me. I’m not saying that as anything against either of you, but let’s be honest, people fight. It’s what they do. Personalities clash, people get ideas stuck in their heads and let them fester, and sometimes, we say the wrong thing at the wrong time. Any of those things and more can make even the best of friends turn on one another and have it out. It’s a sign of how well you get along that it hasn’t happened till now, but it was bound to happen.”

“Especially when you think about how pleasant I am,” Sloane huffed.

“Hard to love isn’t the same as not worth being loved, and you are.”

“You’re my mom. You’re supposed to say that shit.”

“Dean obviously thinks so, too.”

Sloane closed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. Apparently, Dean thought Sloane was worth loving in a way he’d never expected. Dean’s words echoed in his head, and Sloane felt another headache coming on.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“There’s no guessing about it. He loves you, just like we do. Now, you want to tell me what the fight was about?”