Page 138 of Say It Isn't So

Maria, eyes still on the road, asked, “Now that we’re all clear on what Frankie and Perla are doing in our house, can we please change the subject?”

“Prude,” I coughed, and Allie chuckled.

Maria peered in the mirror at Allie. “Am not. I have no problem with sex.”

“No, just discussing it,” I quipped. “But it’s okay. It’s like Allie, who won’t discuss that hunky new roommate of hers. Did I mention how glad I am that he came with us, by the way?” Don’t get your feathers all ruffled, Knox is still my man. But I did have eyes, you know? And my eyes weren’t unhappy when they saw Brady.

Allie wet her lips and began rubbing her hands on the top of her thighs. “I just thought inviting him was the nice thing to do since he took the time off. Let’s not read into it more than we should. He’s just my roommate. I don’t even notice his sex appeal honestly.”

“Really?” Maria asked. “Even I notice it. He’s Irish, right?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with anything?” Allie questioned.

I rolled my lips. “What Maria’s trying to say is that Irish men are known to have a crazy intense desire for sex.”

Maria shook her head. “No, that’s not what I was trying to say, Bibi. I was merely asking if he was Irish.”

“Oh,” I replied, laughing. Allie and Maria joined in as well. “So what do you think the guys are talking about?”

See, we’d decided to take two cars and split up—the sisters and the guys. Maria was driving us while Dom was driving his car—er, apologies, Spitfire (that was what he’d named the thing). Spitfire was red with black and red leather interior. It had nothing on the sports car he’d had before Isabella was born, but this one better suited the family lifestyle he had going on nowadays.

Allie leaned forward, looking up ahead at their car, which was in front of us and had been for miles. “I don’t know. They’re probably talking about guy stuff.”

“In other words?” Maria probed.

Allie shrugged, leaning back in her seat and adjusting her seatbelt. “Not a clue,” she answered, and we all laughed again.

* * *

Knox

“No way!” I refuted Brady’s statement that a 9.9 liter V8 engine that produced 855 horsepower was a moot point. “That thing goes from zero to sixty in seconds, man. You can’t beat that kind of speed.”

Brady replied, “Nah, the turbo V8 engine was literally designed for high speed.” He slapped the side of Dom’s seat from where he was in the back. “Back me up on this one. Isn’t that faster than Knox’s 855 horsepower theory? Has to be.”

Dom shook his head, keeping his eyes focused on the road the whole time as he answered, “I’m with Knox on this one. I think Knox’s is faster.”

I chuckled. “Are you ready to see who’s right?” I held up my phone and waited for him to answer.

“Go for it,” Brady responded. “I’m still right. I know it.”

I passed the phone back to him and snickered wryly. “Sorry, man, but you need to brush up on your engines.”

“Shit.” Brady passed it back to me and raked a hand through his hair. “I was so sure on that one.”

“As sure as Dom was that talking to Angelo would be a good idea?” I asked, eyebrow cocked as I looked at Dom, then turned my head to look at Brady. I’d met Brady a few times when the sisters got together, and I’d driven Bianca to or from Allie’s place. I liked him, he was a good guy. A guy who didn’t know lick about cars—seriously, not shit—but a good guy.

And apparently an amused guy, because he was cracking up. “Yeah, I heard about that. Dude, do you hate this one or what?” he asked Dom. “Angelo sounds intense.”

Dom shook his head. “Come on, Angelo’s not that bad. You just have to figure out how to crack his hard shell. Inside he’s just an old softie.”

I harrumphed. “Easy for you to say. You’re like the son he never had.”

“Yeah, what’s that about?” Brady asked from the back.

My eyes found his and I made mine go wide. “It’s too soon to ask, man, trust me. I’ve been with Bianca for months and I still don’t know.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dom returned. “I just get along with Angelo and I’m good friends with Maria, that’s all.”

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