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Summary
“Anthony, I know you have an opinion. If I pick, you’re gonna complain.”
“I mean, I don’t have to pay attention,” he replies. He stares up at Ian, heat roiling in his stomach. “You could put on whatever you want.”
Ian catches his drift and (unhelpfully) takes another sip of beer before answering. Even worse, his eyes don’t leave Anthony’s as he drinks. “I thought you wanted a chill night?” he asks, which isn’t a no.
Anthony turns over and pushes himself up to his feet. “It would help me chill out.”
The sofa isn’t far from where they’re standing.
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2016/2017 when everything builds up as it all goes downhill.