"You want me to answer my crazy ex?" Chris asked dryly, thumb still hovering over the screen.
Dax's brows lifted a fraction, violet eyes glinting with amusement rather than judgement. "Ex?" he echoed, slow and warm, as if tasting the word. "I don't want you to do anything, Malek. But ignoring forty calls while you drink my wine is going to eat holes in your stomach faster than the alcohol."
He reached lazily for the decanter, refilling Chris's glass without looking away. "If she's really crazy, you can hang up after the first sentence. If she's not, you'll know what the emergency is and stop chewing on it in your head."
Chris let out a small, humorless huff. "You sound like my older brother."
"Older brothers are usually right," Dax murmured, tilting his own glass in a mock salute.
