“Right. A quarter each would have been fair, but the previous owner had a nasty habit of dog-earing the pages instead of using a bookmark. They also apparently only read one page at a time, because every. Single. Page. Is turned down. That severely decreases the value.” He leaned back in his chair and extended two dollars over the table, engaging her in a stare-off. “Six for a dollar. Final offer.”
I giggled to myself, watching him out of the corner of my eye while pretending to be busy looking at the picked-over knickknacks.
Flint wasn’t lying. He was, in fact, the king of yard sales. He’d been wheeling and dealing all over the city. Pun intended. I loved a good haggle, but Flint was an animal. I had two full tote bags in the back of his van and had spent less than half of the ten bucks I’d brought with me.
The woman finally relented, snatching his money. “Oh Lord, just take them. Saves me from having to move them back inside.”
“Excellent,” he replied, stacking his twelve books in his lap. “Ash, you ready to go?”
“Yep.” I walked over, sparing a tight smile for the woman he had all but hustled.
After opening the tote bag on my shoulder, Flint filled it with his newly acquired books. Side by side, we headed back to his van.
“Sorry you didn’t find any welcome mats.”
“Yeah. I guess you’ll just have to make me feel welcome until next weekend.” I looked down in time to see him glance up with a gorgeous grin. “I have to say, even with the scruff and bad attitude, the hotness factor went up today.”
He took my hand as he glided down the sidewalk. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
“I don’t know. It was sexy watching you talk people in circles. Let’s just say I’m glad I’m with you instead of against you.”
“You’re with me, huh?” he teased.
“Well, yeah. Who knows when I’ll need to negotiate jeans for a dime again. I’ll keep you around for that alone.” I smiled down at him, but his fell.
Flint suddenly became engrossed with the ground. I tried to follow his eyes, but with the exception of our shadows cast out in front of us, nothing was even remotely enthralling about the asphalt.
Once he’d released my hand, he pushed ahead of me.
“Hey, slow down,” I called, speed-walking after him. “Jeez, you in a rush?” I asked, out of breath, when I caught up to him at the van.
“Come on. I’m gonna drop you off,” he snapped.
“My dad’s car is at your apartment. You can’t drop me off anywhere.”
“Fine. Then let’s go. I have shit to do today.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Uhhhh . . . okay? Ya want to tell me what the hell just happened to turn you back into an asshole?”
“Nothing happened,” he said, but I was never one to be dismissed.
After taking the bag from my hand, he slung it into the backseat. Then he made his way around the bumper of the van, but I rushed around the front, stopping him before he reached the driver’s side door.
“Look, I have no idea what I said back there, but whatever it is, I’m sorry.” I bent at the waist and forced his eyes to mine, but I wasn’t ready for what I received. I could have dealt with his attitude, but for the first time, insecurity was brewing in Flint’s eyes.
“You didn’t say anything. Now, move.”
He reached for the door, but I stepped forward, blocking him from opening it.
“Then why are you acting like an ass? We’ve had a great day, and suddenly, I feel like we are right back at angry seven A.M.”
“Move,” he repeated on a growl.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I propped myself against this door. “Nah. I’m good. Thanks.”
“Ash, I’m not in the mood.”
“I got that. What I don’t have is the why? You completely just shut down on me for no reason whatsoever.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I don’t want to do this anymore. I just want to take you home and be done with it.”
The initial sting of his words hurt; there was no doubt about that. But while I hadn’t known Flint for very long, I knew for sure he was lying.
“Nope. Wrong answer. Try again.”
“Excuse me?”
I bent over, catching enough attitude to match his. “I said try. Again.”
“You’re insane,” he mumbled.
I let out a loud laugh. “Maybe, but I’m not the one with multiple personalities. Pick one, Flint. Either be sweet or an asshole, but I’m going to need a neck brace pretty soon if you keep this up.”
“Pick one? Pick. One?” he repeated in disbelief.
I confidently held his stare. “That’s what I said. No need to repeat it.”
For several seconds, I could physically see this unknown truth waging war with his body. His breathing sped up, and his eyes flashed from the van back to mine, finally landing on the ground again.
“Why the hell are you here?” he finally gritted out.
“Well, it’s not for the cheerful company. That’s for sure,” I snarked back.
He looked up, his angry fa?ade melting away. “I’m serious. Why are you here? You’re gorgeous, and smart . . . and funny. What the fuck are you doing here with me?”
I shrugged. “I like you. Wait.” I dramatically lifted a finger. “I like the sweet personality. That other one is a real dick.”