“She told me about you, you know?”
Liam hedges, but it’s so smooth no one would know it. “The grumbly neighbor who doesn’t like her playing Madonna through the walls?”
“More like the neighbor to whom I owe a debt for saving my sister when I couldn’t.”
“Oh that…”
“Yeah,” my brother says to the car, but he’s staring at me. “That.”
“I have a younger sister, too, so I get it. No need for a marker.”
“Is your sister too naïve for her own good?” Strider puts it in reverse and backs out onto his street.
“That’s a loaded question that diminishes Lorien, so I’ll refrain from answering.”
Strider looks at me and smiles. “I like you.” He says to the car while adding to me, “I like him for you, Lolo.”
Kill me now. I widen my eyes at my brother. He’s outing me and that reveals too much.
“Lolo?” There’s humor in Liam’s voice. “Lorien, you never told me you had a nickname.”
“Because I’m not four years old, that’s why. Hi, Liam. All okay at home?” That sounds innocuous, right?
“It’s been a day.” I’ve heard that once before from him and said it once to him. Both days were absolutely terrible.
“I had one of those myself yesterday. My phone is toast, so I’m incommunicado.”
“I wondered.” The conversation we’re having while having a whole second one in front of my brother is mind-blowing.
“What she’s not saying,” Strider cuts in as he turns onto the main drag. “Is that she took on a bitchy waitress yesterday who dropped her phone in a pitcher of beer and gave her a black eye.”
My brother grins, looking triumphant. Liam, on the other hand, goes deathly silent.
“Lorien, she gave you a black eye or you gave her one?”
“I was the recipient.”
The growl that comes over the speakers surprises Strider enough he gives me a worried look.
“Five to three, William.” I can’t stop the glee in my voice.
“Yeah. Five to three.”
We pull into my parents’ driveway, and I look at my brother. “Give me a minute?”
He looks between me and the dash displaying a Colorado number.
“Are you sure?” He makes no attempt to lower his voice or mime the question.
“Positive. Thank you.” And I mean it in both senses of the word.
He passes me the phone and points at the keys before grabbing the greens and heading into Mom and Dad’s.
I flip the phone off Bluetooth and take a deep breath. “Hi. We’re alone. You had a day?”
My husband takes two audible breaths and for some reason, I picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. There’s also some vibration in the background I can’t place.
“Yeah, Wifey. Yesterday was shit. Today’s not much better knowing you have a black eye.”
