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I looked back at him and grinned. “Yes, I know. Hence, horrible.”
He nodded. “Oh, I see. Horrible in the sense I do it a lot, rather than describing my ability.”
I shook my head at his mockery. “Yes, Lombardi.”
He sat up and bumped my shoulder with his. “Is that you admitting my flirting is fantastic?”
“That is me agreeing that we’re on the same page with that you flirt…” I stopped, realising that any way I ended that sentence would be a compliment to his flirting. “I’ll admit a lot of girls seem to think you’re good at it.”
“But, not you?” He sounded like he didn’t believe me.
“I wasn’t aware you actually tried to flirt with me. I’m not sure that mentioning you wanted to get into my pants one time counted as flirting. I assumed you were stating fact.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
He snorted. “Well, I suppose that’s not wrong.”
“Of course, your being here instead of using said flirting skills could be a testament to the fact all those stories about your flirting are trumped up exaggeration?” I hedged.
“Is that what you think?”
I shrugged, thinking whatever this was it was weird behaviour. “I can only call it like I see it, Lombardi.”
He scoffed. “Yeah, righto. I suppose Carter’s full of witty flirtation.”
I looked over the lake, my fingers finding my shoelace to play with. “Mason’s sincere–”
“And, you think I’m not.”
“I never said that.”
“You were thinking it.”
“I assume it based on how many girls you seem to get through.”
“Just because I share, does not make me insincere.”
“How sincere can you be when you move on right away?”
“I live in the moment, Barlow. Something I feel you need to learn more about.”
“There will be no inappropriate touching or fondling, Lombardi.”
“How about appropriate touching and fondling? I do a very good appropriate fondle.”
I looked at him, incredulous, and the smile he threw me no matter how small was completely infectious.
“I can never tell when you’re being serious or not.”
“Really?” he asked.
His tone was still light, but his eyes had gone serious.
And, that was one problem. I’d lied; I somehow did know when Roman was being serious and when he wasn’t. I knew what was intended as a joke to cheer me up, what was him being…well, Roman, and what was a combination of both.
“Really,” I replied as I wriggled guiltily.
“All right, then.” I was pretty sure he didn’t believe me either.
Like the night before, we hung out for a little while longer, sometimes in companionable silence, sometimes with bits of conversation and laughs until he walked me back up to our houses and said goodnight.
