by Aly Martinez
“Cold coffee. Delicious,” he snarked. “Jesus, did you get this last night?” He curled his lips in disgust.
Not quite. “I woke up early and decided to stop by and see if you wanted to go garage-saling with me.”
“It’s seven in the morning.”
Suddenly, I felt like an idiot for being there. I was great at reading people, but Flint was a totally different story. He got me all flustered with those bright-blue eyes and his sexy smirk. I couldn’t decide if I needed to work harder to get that smiling and laughing guy back or tuck tail and run before I made myself look like even more of a fool.
His eyebrow popped up when I didn’t immediately respond.
Yep, tucking tail it was.
“Umm . . . You know, on second thought, you don’t look like you are much in the mood for garage-saling.” I pulled the coffee from his hands and turned to squeeze back past him.
“Hey! You can’t take that back.” He swung the door shut, plunging the room into darkness.
“Holy shit,” I cursed, temporarily blinded.
Stumbling back a step, I felt him wrap an arm around my waist and drag me down into his lap. Coffee and soda sloshed in the cups as I landed on top of him.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I continued to blink while my eyes adjusted. “How the hell did you convert your apartment into a dungeon?”
“Blackout curtains. I hate being woken up early by the sun.”
And stalkers too, I assume.
Spinning his wheelchair, he propelled us toward the hall.
“Um . . .” I mumbled, trying to climb off his lap, but his arm folded over my hips, locking me firmly in place. My hands were still filled with cups, so there wasn’t a whole lot I could do to fight against his grip.
Not that I really wanted to anyway.
He continued pushing us toward the bedroom. “We’re going back to bed. Then we can go to whatever garage you want to when we wake up.”
“But we’ll miss all the good stuff. You have to get there early or everything will be gone.” I turned to look at him over my shoulder, pouting my lips and batting my eyelashes.
He leaned forward and pecked my lips. “Yeah, but if you go late, you get the best deals when they start marking shit down to almost free.”
My eyes lit. “You’ve been garage-saling before?” I squealed in delight.
“Are you kidding? I used to take Quarry every weekend. I might as well be the king of yard sales.”
I smiled then returned his peck. “Look at us! We have common interests and everything.”
He released my hips in order to use both hands to maneuver his wheelchair around the tight corner into his room. “Is one of your interests sleeping in my bed? Because that is my favorite at seven A.M.”
I had never slept in Flint’s bed, but I could say with absolute certainty that it was my favorite interest of all. However, judging by the bulge that had grown in his pants, Flint didn’t really want to sleep. And if I crawled into his bed, I probably wouldn’t want to sleep either. Familiar nerves from the night before flooded me all over again.
After jumping off his lap, I set both cups on his nightstand. “Come on. I need some new jeans, and I want to find some stuff to spruce up your boring apartment. We need to hit ’em early.”
“I’m not letting you decorate my apartment. I’d end up with neon curtains and sequined throw pillows.”
“Well, clearly, not all of our interests are the same, because that sounds fabulous.”
He shook his head. “My apartment’s just fine the way it is.”
“Okay, okay. But you can’t stop me from at least getting you a welcome mat.”
He tilted his head. “A welcome mat? So I can wipe my feet before I come inside?”
I burst out laughing. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Wheels. Dirty feet or not, a welcome mat would go a long way in making this place a little more inviting.”
“Who exactly am I supposed to be welcoming?” he teased, intertwining our fingers.
“Uh. Me. I need to feel welcome or I’m gonna stop coming back. The resident isn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.” I tilted my head, mirroring his. “Well, that’s not true. He’s kinda fuzzy.”
A toothy grin formed on his mouth. “Fine. Let me get dressed. Then we’ll find you a welcome mat.”
“Yay!” I clapped. “Be quick about it. A neon, sequined welcome mat is going to be difficult, but I bet, if we get a move on it, we can beat the rush and at least find one with kittens or puppies.”
“Dear God,” he breathed, rolling himself over to his dresser.
As much as I wanted to stay and watch Flint get dressed, I opted to warm up his coffee instead.
“Six for a dollar.” Flint haggled with a woman behind the small folding table at our last stop for the day.
“They are basically brand-new books on sale for a quarter apiece. I can’t go any lower than that,” she responded.
“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 façade 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.”
“I am that dick though. I’m a bitter asshole who stands at six foot four, yet you will always be looking down at me.”
My head snapped back. “Are you kidding me? Who the hell am I to look down at anyone?”
“You don’t get it. I have nothing to offer you. Nothing.”
“Okay,” I drawled. “I guess the good news is I’m not asking for anything. I just like hanging out with you. Wait.” I dramatically lifted my finger again, causing him to roll his eyes. “The sweet one,” I clarified before flashing him a smile.
He sucked in a deep breath and then admitted, “I hate that you’re taller than I am.”
“I’m only five nine. You’ve got me by, like, seven inches.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I really don’t,” I replied, turning to follow his eyes down.
Two black silhouettes stretched out across the asphalt in front of us. Just as to be expected, mine towered over his.
“Oh, hey! I can fix this!” I exclaimed, walking backwards until our shadows were level with each other.
“Don’t be a smartass,” he snarled.
I took two giant steps backwards until his seated shadow was notably longer than mine. “And look, you’re six four again.” I laughed.
Flint, however, didn’t find it amusing. “You’re ridiculous.” He yanked the van door open.
“Am I? Because I just gave you exactly what you wanted and it still isn’t enough. Maybe you could try to just be happy with what you do have instead of focusing on what you don’t.”
He froze.
“Flint, don’t get so caught up on the shadow that you forget the man who casts it. You might not be able to walk, but that’s the extent of your disability.”
I watched him for several seconds until he eventually became unstuck. He didn’t even spare me a backward glance as he climbed into the driver’s seat. After collapsing his wheelchair, he slung it in the back door.
“Get in the van, Ash,” he ordered roughly, starting the engine.
When he shifted into gear, I didn’t have much choice but to obey or be left in the middle of the road.
We drove home in silence. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I thought my inspirational speech had been pretty freaking awesome; obviously, Flint didn’t share my feelings. For ten excruciating minutes, he blankly stared out the windshield without even acknowledging I existed.
As we pulled into his parking lot, nerves started to flutter in my stomach. I wasn’t ready to leave him yet, especially when I didn’t know if it was for the last time.
“Flint—” I started when he put the car in park, but that was all I got out.
He plucked me out of my seat and dragged me over the armrests until his mouth collided with mine. My knees banged around and my feet became painfully tangled behind me, but that wasn’t why I moaned.
“You,” he accused against my lips before sealing his mouth over mine. His tongue swirled greedily, and I met him stroke for stroke.
After scrambling the rest of the way into his lap, I settled my ass on the steering wheel and squeezed my legs into the tight spaces on either side of his hips. His hands sifted through my hair as he continued to hold my mouth with against his own.
I was an all-too-willing victim though.
“I’m assuming you’re not trying to get rid of me anymore.” I teased, but he took my mouth again, transforming my words into a moan.
“You,” he repeated.
I didn’t quite understand how that was an answer to my question, but I can’t say that I didn’t love it.
Me.
For over a half hour at noon, Flint and I made out in the front seat of his van. He never attempted to take it any further. Rather, he seemed content with ravaging my neck and mouth, and I was more than content with letting him do it.
Finally, he released my swollen lips. Holding each side of my face, he tipped his forehead to mine. “I’m going to follow you to drop off your dad’s car. I want you to spend the day with me. I’ll bring you back home later tonight.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“And, Ash.”
I looked up at him as I crawled off his lap, smoothing down my hair.
“I’ll get whatever welcome mat you want as long as you just promise to keep using it.”
My smile was unrivaled, and my heart soared. “I can do that.”
I could do that.
I could so do that.
FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS, Ash became part of my daily routine. Every day, she either showed up at my apartment after I got out of class or I would pick her up on my way home.
We hadn’t worked our way up to sex yet. Or really anything below the waist. And it was getting harder and harder—literally. I’d had blue balls more in those weeks than I’d ever experienced in my life. I didn’t press her though. We were having fun—something my life had been seriously lacking for a long time.
I didn’t have the money to take her out on big dates, but she didn’t seem to care that we usually drove around aimlessly or talked and made out on my couch. She just acted like she wanted to be around me. Which, in turn, made me desperate to be around her. She made me laugh, and while I had no idea what I did for her, I was selfish enough that I didn’t care. I just needed her to keep coming back.
She never did stop stealing my wallet, but I started to enjoy trying to catch her in the act. She’d always straddle my lap and kiss me apologetically. This usually ended with me missing my watch or my phone, but I wouldn’t have traded those moments with her for all of my possessions in the world. And that was probably a good thing, because gradually, they all started disappea
ring anyway. At first, it was random T-shirts and the occasional hoodie, but then she worked her way up to my books. Every day when Ash left, I would notice an empty hole on one of my shelves. I had no idea when she took them or why she didn’t just ask, but I didn’t actually care. By the next day, it was back and a different one was missing.
Until one day, I guessed she found what she was looking for.
Somewhere around the two-week mark, my absolute favorite book, A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers, had vanished. I’d checked every day to see if she had returned it, but it hadn’t made its way back to its spot on my shelf.
“You planning to bring my book back?” I asked as we were lying in the grass outside my apartment. It was actually a small patch of weeds between two buildings, but Ash loved to lie there and stare up at the stars, and though transferring myself from the ground back to my wheelchair was difficult and sometimes embarrassing, I quickly learned to love it too.
“What book?” she asked innocently, twiddling her thumbs that were folded over her stomach.
I had known for a while that Ash was odd, but I’d never met a woman who wasn’t a cuddler. Sure, she touched me and kissed me, but she always moved away when she was done. I couldn’t tell if she liked her space or if she just didn’t realize there was another option.
“The one you stole.” I quirked a knowing eyebrow.
Her lips twitched before she looked back up at the stars. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” I said following her gaze.
A few unbelievably comfortable moments of silence passed before I spoke again.
“So, where’s your mom?”
“She killed herself when I was five,” she answered nonchalantly.
“Shit,” I breathed, pulling an arm from under my head to take one of her hands.
“Yeah. I don’t remember her,” she said without elaborating, so I decided to once again change the subject.
“Was Q at your dad’s when you left?”
“No. He went to the gym. Debbie was pissed, but giving a damn is pretty low on Quarry’s list of cares.”
I laughed at her assessment.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” she asked, pulling her hand away.
