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“He didn’t give me the itinerary, if that’s what you mean.” I let out a snort. “He seemed off, but that’s just Rocco.”
“And Nico had nothing to say about this meeting?”
“No.” I left out the part where I darted away as fast as I could even though Nico kept convincing me to stay and to give him a chance…to give us a chance. From the look on my brother’s face, I can tell that information wouldn’t bode well for Nico. Or me, for that matter.
He slams a fist onto the granite. “Goddammit,” he mutters.
“What’s wrong? Is there something going on?”
His dark brown eyes, the ones that spit fire only seconds ago, now just seem sad. “I’m really glad you got out, Shaye. I hate like hell that you’re not here, but you can make a great life for yourself down in Miami. Sometimes, I...” He rakes a hand through his hair. “I’d love the chance to take a breath, too.”
I tug on a long curl and wind it around my finger. He sounds pretty defeatist right now. Not at all like the Maximo who plans to conquer the world. “You’re not stuck here, Max. You know that.”
He nods. “I know that I have responsibilities, Shaye. And that I can’t just restart every time I mess up. I have to keep playing the game. I can’t get out.”
Funny how he thinks that my ‘getting out’ is as easy as hopping a plane to another state. I thought the same thing. I was so very wrong.