EIGHTY - FOUR

ARABELLA.

We walk back into the house with our intertwined fingers and I pass Alexander a smile when Dex sees him calling out his name from the sofa.

"That’s you?" Dex stands from the couch and strides toward us. His hands are in his pockets and his gaze is on Alex, who pushes out his other hand, refusing to let me go. "Hey, dude."

Dex looks at the outstretched hand, and his face hardens. "Are you back now after almost breaking my best friend’s heart?" He throws the question at Alex, who looks down at me before tightening his hand against mine. When he looks away, I try to meet Dex’s eyes, but he’s too busy glaring at Alex. The tension in the air rises as Alex’s hand stays in the air while Dex looks like he’s just two seconds away from punching him.

"You should know I’d never intentionally do that. They were stuff back at my home that needed to be taken care of and there was no avoid—"

Dex’s face suddenly breaks in a smile and before Alex can finish, he slaps a hand on his shoulder. "