"Because he is my fucking brother!"
The words hit the apartment like a thrown vase.
For half a second, Adam didn't breathe. His hand was still wrapped around the wine stem, knuckles pale, the glass hovering over the counter like he'd forgotten what he intended to do with it.
Max stood a few feet away with his coat still in his hands, shoulders rigid, eyes too bright - like he'd said something he'd been keeping buried for years and his body hadn't caught up to the fact that it was now out in the room.
Adam stared at him.
Then, very slowly, he set the wine glass down.
Carefully, as if he made a sudden movement, the entire situation might explode.
He blinked once.
Twice.
And then his mouth finally moved, the bite returning because if he didn't bite, he might do something worse like panic.
"What," Adam said, voice flat with disbelief, "in the name of the family circle is this?"
Max's jaw worked once. He looked like he wanted to regret it and couldn't afford to.
