“Yes, it is. You never let Sullivan sit on you.”
“Maybe I’ve changed.”
“Have you?” Gianna turned to face him. “Did something happen with Mickey?”
Benito blinked. “Mickey?”
“Mum said he was in a funny mood too.”
“That’s not what I said.” Rosetta came back with bowls of steaming pasta. Gianna took one.
Benito waved his away.
Rosetta set it on the coffee table. “I didn’t say Mickey was in a funny mood. Just that he wasn’t himself. Then I wondered if it was me. I haven’t seen him in person for a while.”
Benito said nothing.
Gianna ate spaghetti while they all gawped at him, even the cat.
He shifted on the couch, dislodging Sullivan. “Stop staring at me.”
Rosetta took a seat in the armchair closest to the TV. She wasn’t eating either, but her gaze was steady. Kind, almost. “Did something happen between you two?”
“Who?”
“Mickey. I thought you liked each other.”
“What made you think that?”
“I saw you,” she said. “Out of the window. I thought maybe...”
“What? That he had the power to evict you from your home and I was chatting him up so he wouldn’t?”
“I thought you might be seeing each other.”
“Are you?” Gianna asked. “Because he’s really nice. If you were going to have a boyfriend, I’d pick him for you.”
Benito’s head suddenly felt so heavy he could hardly hold it up. He slow-blinked again, denial blooming on his tongue, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out.
He shut it again.
Rosetta nodded to herself.
Gianna went back to her dinner, leaving Benito to reel in peace. He’d never told them he was bisexual, and he’d only ever brought one person home—a girl who Gianna had idolised and Rosetta had ignored. Had they known all this time? Or had the show he’d apparently put on for Rosetta in recent days, weeks—however long it had been—been her first clue?
What about Gianna?
Did it even matter?
“Benito,” Rosetta said. “Are you sure you won’t eat something?”
“What?”
“Your dinner. It’s getting cold.”
Benito shook his head. “I fucked it up.”
“It’s fine. I was cooking anyway.”