“Mate.” Sid resisted the fresh heat blooming in the pit of despair this encounter had become. “Don’t start something we can’t finish till later.”
“Give me your list then.”
“No. You’re not hoofing my groceries back on the bus.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s ridiculous when I have a car.”
“Better for the planet, though.”
Sid sighed. “Look, the only way I’m agreeing to this is if you call me when you’re done and I come and pick you up. It’s that or I put you on my car insurance and you drive your fucking self.”
“I’m not driving your car.”
“Call me then.”
“All right.” Dante shrugged. “Whatever you want.”
It didn’t feel like much of a victory. Sid wrote a list while Dante wandered off to find clothes that Sid wasn’t already wearing.
He came back in his own utility shorts and a T-shirt with a faded sunflower on it.
Sid laughed. “Cute.”
“I know,” Dante deadpanned. “List.”
Sid handed it over.
Dante pocketed it without a glance. “Are you ready to leave?”
“Nearly. Hang on.” Sid opened a drawer and found his wallet. He pried his debit card free and held it out.
Dante scowled. “What’s that for?”
“To pay for the shopping.”
“I have money.”
“To buy my shopping with? No fucking chance.”
Dante took a breath.
Sid cut him off before he could speak. “No.” He pushed the card into Dante’s hand. “Not this time.”
Dante was a survivor, and he’d made it this far by picking his battles, at least when he had the choice. He was wise too, and he sensibly let it go and stuffed Sid’s debit card alongside his shopping list.
Sid wanted to hug him again. Kiss him. More. But it would have to wait. They had a long day ahead before the world felt right again.
20
“You didn’t make it yet?” Wherever Paolo Cilberto was, he shut a door, drowning out the noise he’d brought with him when he’d called Dante’s phone. “Damn. I wanted a photo.”
Dante kicked a stone along the pavement. “That’s why you called? To get an Insta-ready picture of my dinner?”
Paolo snorted. “Would you believe me if I told you that your brother is terminally anal about the pictures we post on the caff’s page?”
“Probably. I mean, you know him better than me, but he’s always been like that. If he cares about something, he looks after it.”And if he doesn’t, he cuts it dead.