It has always been this way for Rodeo. His life is all high stakes, and he has lived so many moments that could have been his last that the danger hardly seems to faze him anymore. He thrives in it. He reacts instantly and unhesitatingly to every threat that presents itself, his shots sure and his responses quick. He barely seems to think about it before he acts, decisive and resolute at all times. This is his way of going toe-to-toe with death, the same way that Lita did on that makeshift operating table only a few moments before all hell broke loose. Their fighting styles might be different, but Rodeo thinks they have more in common than he bargained for.
Rodeo gets her to her door, and then she calls it the worst first date she's ever had, and he wants to either start laughing or kiss her and that makes the moment all the more thrilling. The danger, he's used to. But it isn't always quite as fun as this. "Really? I thought it went well," Rodeo says dryly while she loads into her Jeep. "Got you to take your shirt off and everything." He has his back to the horde, but he's aware of their proximity at all times. He reaches his arm out, bracing his hand against the door frame while the other holds onto the door, as if he could bar the geeks from her with his own body.
He's lingering too long, but he can't help himself. He's a little hooked. Besides, she looks like she's fixing to say something, and there ain't no way in hell he can leave before he finds out what it is.
"You can call me Lita."
He hasn't forgotten what she said earlier. His memory is like that-- archival and exhaustingly precise. Most of the time it's a burden, but there are times when it serves him well. This is just one of those times. "Lita to my friends." That's what she had said. The weight of what she's telling him now doesn't escape him at all. She can see that in his gaze-- that cocky, amused grin warms to something slightly more earnest, and his expressive eyes read as more than just focused and watchful. There's something hopeful there, but he'd be mortified if he knew it.
"Alright," is all he says in response, but he doesn't need to say much more. He doesn't have time to say anything more. He shoves her door shut and starts to move, cutting through the space back to his truck with his gun. He only glances over his shoulder once, but she's already halfway to gone. Her truck tears down the street, escaping the crush of the gathering crowd. Rodeo throws himself into the Bronco and follows suit, his route taking him in the opposite direction. Still, he watches Lita's Jeep until it disappears from his view.