“Q!” I squealed, bouncing on my toes.
He laughed only to quiet suddenly when my dad caught him by the back of the shirt and said, “I’m watching you, boy.” It was a threat, but he said it with a smile.
Everyone knew that Q and I were close. They also knew we were only friends. My parents loved the Page boys and trusted them implicitly. Sure, Quarry got into his fair share of trouble—usually my trouble he took the wrap for. But they always knew he’d never let anything happen to me. My dad actually adored how protective he was over me. It was probably the only reason he allowed his little princess to spend so much time with a rough-around-the-edges boy.
“Yes, sir,” Quarry quickly responded.
“Okay, Flint. I put a list of emergency numbers on the fridge. Ty and Adam are both asleep in Adam’s room, but if they wake up, turn on the sound machine and leave the door cracked. They’ll fall right back to sleep,” Aunt Erica said to Flint as my mom huddled beside her.
“Oh, don’t worry about Ty. He sleeps like a rock,” my mom added.
“I put a sippy cup in the fridge for Riley. It’s the pink one. Not the blue one. Just remember: She’s the girl. Pink.”
“I think I can handle that,” he replied, flashing his eyes to Uncle Slate in a plea for backup.
“Erica, leave the boy alone. This isn’t exactly his first time with the kids!” Slate shouted.
“It is with Ty and Liv too! Four kids is a lot different,” she called back, never dragging her eyes off Flint. “Are you sure you can handle this? I mean, it’s not too late to say no.” She nervously toyed with the ends of her long, blond hair.
“It’ll be no problem.” He laughed. “Riley and Adam are easy, and if Ty wakes up, Liv can help me with him.”
Erica smiled, but her hesitance was still obvious. Turning to my mother, she asked, “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Sarah? We could always go out another night.”
“She’s fine with it!” my dad confirmed. “Good lord, can we please go? I’m starving.”
Slate made his way over to Erica, draping his arm around her hips. “Beautiful, he’s got it.”
“Fine,” she huffed. “Give him some money for pizza and let’s go.”
Slate passed Flint a fifty-dollar bill from his wallet then ushered Erica toward the door. My mom waited as the adults filed from the house. No sooner had the door clicked than she laid into us.
“You two,” she said, waving a finger between Quarry and me. “Do not give Flint any trouble tonight. No pranks. No games. Nothing. Eat pizza, watch a movie, hang out, whatever. Just stay out of trouble.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Quarry answered hastily.
I nodded, but when I opened my mouth to reply, she got there first.
“I’m serious, Liv. I’m not your father. Don’t think you can just bat your eyelashes at me. You get in any trouble tonight, you won’t be pinning it on Quarry.”
Quarry attempted to interject, but she once again got there first.
“Don’t you even try to cover for her.”
He promptly closed his mouth and became engrossed with his shoes.
“Jeez, Mom. Chill out. We’ll be good.” I smiled.
Her shoulders sagged in relief. “Okay. You have your iPad, right?”
I nodded.
“Q?” she called.
His gaze lifted to hers.
“Keep her in line.”
“I always do.” He smirked.
She narrowed her eyes.
“I mean…yes, ma’am.”
She didn’t look any more convinced, but she relented and headed out the door.
Finally alone, I turned to Quarry and punched his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Flint asked me if I’d come help. Of course—”
Flint immediately cut him off. “You’re so full of it. He paid me twenty bucks to bring him.”
Quarry’s eyes flared wide. “Dude! What the hell?”
Flint laughed as he walked away.
I grinned, because well…Quarry was there. “Best twenty bucks you ever spent,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his.
“We’ll see about that,” he mumbled under his breath as he glared at his brother.
He was wrong. There was nothing to see about. We had a whole night to hang out without anyone bothering us. I’d have sledgehammered my piggy bank months earlier if I’d thought it would have bought me more time with him.
A large pepperoni pizza and a two-liter of pop later, we sat on the large leather sectional in Slate’s rec room, arguing over which movie to rent. I loved a good comedy, but Quarry wanted an action flick. And, regardless of how hard I tried, I couldn’t sweet-talk him into letting me have my way.
It was infuriating.
And more fun than I’d had…since the last time I had seen him.
“Give me the remote.” I dove toward him, but he quickly jumped to his feet, holding it high above his head.