Well, that was just mean, but maybe he deserved it. He was poking his nose into things that weren't his business, and now she was doing the same, just to prove a point. Her question, however, could not possibly have been asked in good faith. His grip on the glass tightened.

"Eight months next week," he said with a frown. "And no, before you say something snippy, they're not supposed to last that long."

Fucking Evander was engaged before him, which, aside from being terribly unfair, said everything anyone needed to know about the timeline.