Caleb let out an exaggerated sigh, eyes rolling like he was putting on a show. “Come on, Dari. Seriously? Still hung up on her? Man, you’re better than this.”
Darius’s jaw clenched tight, arms crossed, standing firm like a wall in the doorway. He could smell Caleb’s nerves — that unmistakable scent of panic — but he stayed put. “You dug your own hole, Caleb. And I’m not spending a single night with a bullseye because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”
Caleb, never one to appreciate a locked door—or locked hearts—tried to play the old card: mischief and brotherly loyalty. He slung an arm around Darius’s shoulders, forcing a grin. “Hey, I was only trying to help. You know, loosen things up.”
Darius shrugged him off. “This isn’t you helping. You’re not spending the night here.”
