"My body's just fine, thank you."
He regrets it as soon as he says it. My eyes drop along his body before I can stop them. I fold my hands in my lap and say nothing. No matter how much I want to.
He casts a glance at me before returning to the road. "Wow. I fully expected a smart-ass remark there. You're more mature than I gave you credit for."
Callahan, you innocent lamb.
"Don't tell me you're disappointed I didn't jump at the chance to sexualize you." I let it hang there. "Or just jump you."
His head turns toward me, just barely. In the dashboard glow I catch his eyes go dark and his grip tighten on the wheel before he faces the road again.
"You're trouble," he grits out. "You know that?"
"Only with you."
I hadn't meant to whisper it, but it was true. He made me want to push, to see what lived underneath all that restraint. The more he pulled back, the more I leaned in. I wasn't sure that said anything good about me, but I couldn't seem to stop.
The car slows and stops in front of my building. His hands are still on the wheel. We're sitting in his car in the dark and neither of us is reaching for the door handle.
"Thank you for the ride." I make no move to leave.
"Any time."
I study him, but he's staring straight ahead, at anything that isn't me. Thumbs pressed into the steering wheel, both hands sensibly occupied.
"Goodnight, Callahan."
I bite my lip hard to keep the giggle in when I hear his sigh.
"Goodnight, Lily."
I open the door and step down from the satellite into the cold. The door closes behind me with a heavy sound. I don't look back, no matter how much I want to.
I walk to the building, unlock the front door, press my back against it and listen. The Escalade doesn't move.
I run up the stairs, not bothering with the elevator. No lights. Just me at the window, shoes still on, looking down at the street.
He's still there. I wait a few seconds, then I reach over and turn on the lamp. The headlights come on immediately.
I press my hand over my mouth. I watch the taillights disappear around the corner, slide down onto the sofa, and smile until my face hurts.
8
CAL
Ihear them before I open the front door and I shake my head. It’s normal for me to come home and find these two bickering about something.
"Will, you can't just write 'table for Dave' on an invoice. That's not how invoicing works."
"It's a table. Dave knows what a table is."
"Your accountant and the state need better information. An article number. This is a business document, not a Post-it note."
"It's worked fine for thirty years, angel."
I stop with my keys in hand. Angel? Since when did my father call her angel? And since when did he say it in the same voice he uses when he's giving me shit? The voice he only reserves for me. The same one he used when I was nine and still uses now at twenty-nine. Except now, apparently, it isn't just for me anymore.
"It has not worked fine for thirty years." Lily's voice cutsthrough the door, exasperated but warm. "It has worked in spite of you for thirty years, old man."
