"She seems happy."
"Good." His voice softens, just a fraction. "I don't want anyone messing that up for her, Cal. She's had enough people let her down."
"So have you."
I mean it. The Morelands were raised by two people who bailed too easily. Rome spent his whole life making up for that. He's the only parent Lily ever had. He's not being anasshole right now. He's doing the only job that ever mattered to him.
He claps me on the shoulder. "I'll see you Saturday?"
"Yeah."
I watch him drive away, then get in my own car and sit there with both hands on the wheel, dash screen glowing, staring at nothing.
Nothing is going to happen. The problem is I've been saying that for months, and each time it feels lighter. Like a coin you keep spending until one day there's nothing left in your pocket.
I think about last night, handing her a plate of pasta. Nothing dramatic, just those gray eyes over the food and a quiet "thank you, Callahan" that made me forget how to let go of the plate.
I turn on the engine and sit another minute, listening to whatever playlist she left on before meeting Ramsey.
The pub is quiet for a Thursday. Ramsey is already at our usual table with two beers and his calm, unshakeable presence. He pushes one toward me before I even sit down.
"You look like shit."
"Thanks, Rams."
"Rome?"
I take a long pull of my beer. "How'd you know?"
"He called me this morning asking if I knew Lily was spending time at your place. When I said yes, he asked why I didn't tell him. I said because it wasn't my business and he could talk to his sister like a grown-up." He takes a sip of his own beer. "He didn't love that answer."
"He came to the firehouse."
"And?"
"And I told him nothing was happening and he believed me." I set the bottle down, start peeling at the edge of the label. "Because nothing is happening."
Ramsey watches me over his beer. He has all night and no intention of letting me get away with this. His silences are worse than other people's interrogations.
"Nothing is happening," I say again, as if repetition will make it true.
"Cal..."
"What?"
"You walked into a doorframe last week because she bent down to pick up her bag."
"Who told you about that?"
“Poppy. And everyone else."
I close my eyes, briefly consider moving to another country because anything else is still too damn close.
I had caught myself before actually hitting the frame. But yes. Lily had bent down to pick up her bag in the tightest jeans ever created by man, all that hair falling to one side, and I lost my fucking mind. Again.
"Ruth needs a hobby."
"Ruth's hobby is you. You're the most entertaining thing in this town right now and you don't even know it." He turns serious on me again. "So. Nothing is happening?"
