"It's certainty," Ramsey says carefully, like he's explaining something simple to someone who should already understand. "You don't wait around when you're this sure."
"When you know, you know," Rome adds with little drama.
I don't have a response to that. I don't know what knowing feels like. I'm not sure I want to find out.
A while later Rome checks his phone, types something, sets it down with a sigh that tells me exactly who he's texting.
"Lily?" Ramsey guesses.
"She found another spider."
"Same one?"
"She says it's bigger." He sounds exasperated. "I think she's lying."
"Send Erin again," I suggest.
"Erin's in the bath. I'm not interrupting that." He pockets the phone, sweeps us both. "Anyone else want to volunteer? Anyone other than Holt, that is."
How casual. Almost throwaway. But I catch the way my name lands with slightly more weight than it should, and Rome knows I catch it. For a second we just hold eachother's gaze across the table. Him with that flat, unreadable expression that isn't a threat but isn't not a threat either. Me glaring at him.
I set the glass down. "I wasn't volunteering."
"Good."
"But it's interesting that you felt the need to specify."
Rome holds my eyes one more second, then turns to Ramsey like I hadn't said anything. "Well?"
Ramsey is suddenly fascinated by the bowl of chips, picking one up and examining it like he's checking for quality control issues.
"Cowards," Rome mutters, but there's no heat in it.
"You're her brother," Ramsey points out, popping the chip in his mouth.
"You're her friend."
Ramsey reaches for his beer and takes a long, deliberate sip. "I have a thing."
Rome eyes the glass in his hand. "You have a beer."
"The beer is the thing."
Rome shakes his head, pulls his phone back out, types something. Probably telling Lily to put a glass over the spider and go to bed. Or maybe telling Erin to get out of the bath. Either way, it's not my problem. I'm not going to think about Lily alone in her apartment with a spider she's scared of. I'm not going to think about the fact that I know exactly where she lives.
”I should go," I announce. I've been doing this a lot lately. Leaving places before I say something stupid or think something worse.
"Tell your dad I said hi," Ramsey offers.
"Yeah."
"Tell him I said thank you for the bookshelf," Rome adds, eyes still on his phone. "The craftsmanship is excellent."
"He'll like hearing that."
I stand, pull on my jacket, leave a bill on the table. Rome nods, turns back to his phone. Ramsey waves, already typing, probably texting Poppy something that would make me roll my eyes if I saw it.
I push through the door into cold air and stand on the sidewalk, taking a much-needed breath.
