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“Coworker?”

“No.”

“Prostitute?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “What the fuck?”

“I'm brainstorming.”

“Brainstorm somewhere else.”

I reach the porch. Roman looks down at me. I look up at him.

“You have to tell me eventually.”

“I absolutely do not.”

“I know where you live now.”

His eyes narrow. “That sounds like a threat.”

“It’s a promise.”

His mouth twitches.

“You think this is funny?”

“No.”

“You almost smiled.”

“No, I didn't.”

“You did.”

“Go home, Chaos.”

I grin. “Okay, Hot Lips.”

He closes his eyes.

I turn and head down the driveway.

“Callie.”

I look over my shoulder. “What?”

He stands there in his bare feet and gray sweatpants, looking annoyed enough to murder someone.

But he's not distant. He's not shutting me out.

I soften. “Are you okay?”

The amusement disappears.

There’s that damn wall again.

“I'm fine.”