“Oh, right. Sorry. I borrowed Ash’s phone and wrote the texts. It wasn’t her. We were bored and I was curious about where you were hiding out.” He winked.
My mouth dropped open. “Are you kidding me? You got bored so you decided to tell me that you were deaf?” I snapped, rolling myself forward.
“No. I asked for your address first. You didn’t bite. So then I told you I was deaf.”
“You son of a bitch. I was fucking worried!” I swung a fist as hard as I could, but Quarry easily dodged it.
“Well, then think of it as a miracle. I can still hear!” He threw his hands up in the air in celebration.
“You selfish little shit. Till’s probably losing his mind right now, and you think this is funny?”
His laugh went silent and his eyes grew wide. “You told Till?” he gasped. “Why the hell would you do that?” He pushed a hand through his thick, black hair.
“I thought you were deaf!” I screamed so loudly that it echoed off all the walls.
“Shit,” he groaned to himself.
“Yeah. Shit,” I repeated, passing my phone in his direction. “Call him and explain. But don’t you dare tell him where I live.”
He dropped his eyes to the floor but took the phone from my hand. “I’m going outside to purgatory for this one,” he mumbled as he walked out the door, dialing the phone.
Stupid kid.
“Soooo . . . is it safe to come in?” Ash said, peeking around the doorjamb.
“For you? Yes. For him? I’m not sure,” I replied, grabbing the back of my neck.
“I swear I didn’t know. He didn’t tell me until we got here. For what it’s worth, he wanted to keep up the act and mess with you, but I refused to play along.”
“Thanks for that.”
“No prob.” She smiled.
And even with as pissed as I was, one pulled at the corner of my lips too.
“SOOOO THIS IS A NICE place,” I said, looking around Flint’s apartment.
The building might have been shit on the outside, but it was obvious Flint had worked hard to transform it into something nice on the inside. It was simple, but everything was spotless. There were no decorations unless the bookshelves that lined nearly every inch of the walls counted. There was a cheap sofa and a chair squished together with a coffee table in the center of the room. As I watched Flint push himself past them, I gathered that their tight positioning was to allow more room for his wheelchair to pass.
“You want something to drink?”
“Whatcha got?” I asked, following him into a tiny galley kitchen just barely wide enough to fit the width of his wheelchair.
Pulling the fridge open, he said, “Milk, water, and . . . pineapple-banana juice.”
“Shut up,” I whispered.
“What?” He looked over his shoulder.
“I’ve never had pineapple-banana juice!” I squealed.
“Um . . . okay, then. Pineapple-banana it is.” He backed up, unable to actually turn around. Then he removed a glass from the bottom cabinet and set it on the counter.
“This might be the greatest day of my life, Wheels,” I announced, watching him fill the glass with sure-to-be-delicious fruity liquid. “First, Quarry took me to a 3D movie. Holy crap, it was ah-mazing. And now, you have pineapple-banana juice.”
“I’m thrilled my juice selection has contributed to ‘the greatest day of your life,’” he said dryly.
“And you should be. This is two newsies today.”
“Newsies?” He slid the glass in my direction then motioned for me to move so he could back all the way out of the kitchen.
“Yep. I try to do something new every day. And today, I’m getting to do two! I can’t wait to cross pineapple-banana juice off my list.”
“You might be the weirdest person I have ever met. You have an actual list with pineapple-banana juice on it?” he asked with a slight smirk.
It was a rare glimpse at the man hiding under the patchy beard and angry, blue eyes, but amused looked good on Flint Page.
Really good.
“No, it’s not technically on the list. But when I get home, I’m going to write it right below ride a roller coaster, and then guess what?” I lifted my eyebrows, tipping the glass to my lips. I held Flint’s eyes as I took a gulp of the cool, fruity drink before setting it on the counter. “I’m gonna cross it off.” I tossed him a smile, and much to my surprise, he returned it.
Now that was better than really good.
It was gorgeous.
And because I possessed absolutely no filter, I felt the need to inform him of that.
“You know, if you shaved that fuzz and smiled more often, you would be really hot.”
Then it happened.
Something more elusive than the Loch Ness Monster and Bigfoot appeared in front of me.
Flint Page’s lips parted and a real, honest-to-God laugh erupted from his throat. His shoulders shook and his blue eyes lit up so bright that I almost needed to look away.
I couldn’t though.
I was mesmerized.
“Thanks, I think?” he said, rubbing his chin.