"I hear you."
I mean it. I just don't agree with it.
10
CAL
Rome is waiting outside the firehouse. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, wearing the expression that says he's not going to like anything I have to say.
He doesn't do casual drop-bys, never has. And the way he's positioned himself between me and my car tells me everything I need to know about how this conversation is going to go.
"Hey."
"Hey."
I toss my bag in the back of the Escalade, taking my time, letting him make the first move.
"We need to talk."
This should be fun.
"That's never a good opener," I say, leaning against the driver's side door, crossing my arms to match his stance, bracing for it.
"It's not meantto be."
"Alright. Talk."
"Lily's been at your house."
There it is. I've been expecting this conversation for weeks. Have rehearsed it while running, while driving, while standing in my kitchen watching Lily exist in every corner of my house like she belongs there.
This confirms what I suspected. She's been keeping the visits secret from him. Smart girl. Also, not my problem.
I meet his stare easily enough as my conscience is technically clean. Technically.
"She visits my dad. He broke his leg. She feels responsible."
Rome doesn't waver. "It does not take weeks and multiple visits to say I am awfully fucking sorry for breaking your leg."
He's not wrong. I've said the same thing myself. But talking to my dad about it is useless, and talking to Lily about it is worse, because she just looks at me and tells me she likes being there and what am I supposed to do with that?
"My dad enjoys her company, man. He's been stuck in that house for weeks. She comes over, she helps with his invoices, she keeps him from losing his mind, and he treats her like the daughter he never had." I hold his stare. "That's it."
Rome gives me the full Rome Moreland look. The one that makes architects twice his age stammer. The one he uses on contractors, city officials, once on a bartender who made the mistake of hitting on Erin. It's never been aimed at me with this much behind it.
"Cal."
I can see the restraint it takes him to just say my name.
I drop my arms, relax my stance. Rome isn't a contractor to stonewall. He's my friend and the crazy thing is, I share every one of his concerns. There's nothing between me and Lily. Nothing real, nothing I've let become real.
"Rome, relax. We've been through this and I told you it was nothing."
He uncrosses his arms, rubs a hand across his forehead.
"Cal, I like you, man. And I don't like very many people."
"Don't make me blush now."
