The slight smirk pricked like that unsuspecting needle prick. “Well?”

He inhaled like a long suffering sibling; adding that slow eye roll as he moved away; his hands tucked casually in his favorite worn jeans.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Flicking tone like ashes between us, he snorted, “You think I’m really going to discuss this? With you?” The smirk returned. “Are we hangry? We can stop at Ritter’s if you’d like…”

“I saw you! I saw him! I know!”

“You don’t.”

He spoke as if placating a child, which, I admit, I felt like one… because I wanted to wring his neck. Given his six-two foot build, my own five foot frame wouldn’t do much damage. I could drive my heel into his sneaker… but I loved my heels too much.

“I know what I saw, Marcus Pete.”

A flicker of annoyance met my words; he hated that middle name but the unbothered look returned.

“I’m not going to deny what you saw, Darlene. They’re your eyes. That’s all I plan to say on that because frankly, I don’t care about what you saw. I know the truth and that reality trumps your viewpoint.”

Slowly, he rolled his neck.

“ I’m heading inside. You can stay outside enjoy the chill of September or head inside with me and act like my sister who has more common sense than dropping accusations gleaned from some late night crime drama.”