“Well alrighty then,” Ella said, breaking the ever-lengthening silence. “I think, Mr. Rosetti, that you need to let us get back to our driving.”
They were sitting dead still. But yeah, it was without a doubt time for Rio to exit their ongoing call.
“Let me know when you reach the Del,” he said. “And oh, if Casey wants me to text with updates about Jon, she’s going to have to unblock me.”
“Or you could leave her out of it, and just text me directly,” Ella suggested.
“I’m still right here,” Casey said. “And no, that’s stupid. I’ll annoy the crap out of both of us, wanting to know if there’s any word about Jon, asking every ten seconds.” She knew herself too well. She’d end up staring at Ella’s phone instead of her own. “Might as well just let me stare at my own phone, so yeah, I’ll unblock you. In fact, I just unblocked you. Text me updates. Please. Thank you.” Shit. She’d gone from blocking him to hoping he’d text her, like, soon.
“He’s gonna be okay,” Rio said, his voice gentle. Luc-like.
It made Casey want to cry. Instead, she tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Yeah, sorry, but you don’t know that.”
“Yes,” he said, with that same quiet certainty. “I do. Be safe. I’ll text you as soon as I see him.”
With a click he was gone, leaving a silence that settled thickly around her as she sat in Ella’s SUV, inching forward along the Five.
I know that you’re scared, and you gotta know that I’m scared, too...
Any other man would’ve run away screaming. Anyone, that is, except for the man she’d first come to know as Luc.
“You okay up there?” Ella finally asked.
“Yep, I’m fine,” Casey said, although now she was the lying liar.
Casey was terrified. Rio saw that clearly now.
Beneath her anger was a huge, yawning pit of genuine fear. Fear that she’d somehow let her guard down and made herself vulnerable to someone who, yeah, admittedly, hadn’t been honest with her in return. In truth, it seemed a little ridiculous that she was so upset by something as insignificant as his name. Rio was Rio—whatever he was called. Mr. Rosetti. Mario. Shithead. Luc.
But she didn’t know that.
And it wasn’t up to him to decide what should or shouldn’t upset her. He knew enough to recognize that, for Casey at least, a lie was also a lie, and it made her uncertain and mistrustful of everything he’d told her and every action he’d taken. Every move he’d made and every word out of his mouth could well have been fiction, even though it hadn’t been.
And it was going to take a little time to regain her trust and convince her that he was still himself. That he’d always been himself.
Time—plus Dave.
Dave—when he finally returned—was going to help. Tremendously.
At least with part of her fear.
There was also, Rio suspected, a different and far-less tameable fear hidden behind her scathing anger. Luc, who’d been in a relationship with Dave, had been safe for her to have a crush on. And even if Dave ended up running back to Jon, the fact remained that Luc was safely, unattainably gay—but Rio wasn’t.
He suspected that Casey was scared that she’d accidentally let herself get attached to a man with whom she might actually be able to have a real relationship—which again opened her up to a boatload of hurt.
But that was true of any relationship. Wasn’t it all about saying “Hey, here’s my heart. I have no idea what you’ll do with it—you could crush it into a thousand pieces. But you also might hold it close and cherish it, which would be amazing, so I’m willing to take that risk.”
Casey was hardcore risk averse, even while yearning for emotional connection with someone who saw her clearly.
After this morning’s sucker-punch of a blow-up, Rio sure as shit saw all of her. And even though he was scared, he wasn’t scared by what he saw. Far from it. In fact, he related. Deeply.
And he hoped his maintaining a respectful distance yet refusing to abandon her brother gave her a chance to see him clearly, too.
He took a deep breath and continued down his mental to-do list.
Calling Tasha was next, but he went straight to her voicemail. “Hey,” he said, “I’m back in San Diego and I want to drop off your car—thank you again for letting me use it.”
Although now he had to figure out how to get his car, which was still in Palm Springs. Fuck. Okay, this wasn’t hard. He’d rent something one-way, San Diego to Palm Springs, then get a Lyft to the resort where his car was still parked. Done and done in half a day, rental availability and spiteful traffic gods willing. But not until this bullshit with Jon was handled, and both he and Casey were safe.
