by Aly Martinez
“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.
Chapter Thirteen
Flint
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 disappearing 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.
“Yeah. Go for it.”
“What’s your problem with Till and Eliza? Quarry told me they basically raised you guys and how you got shot and stuff, but why don’t you talk to them or anything now?”
I let out a loud huff. Of course she would ask that question. The one question I honestly didn’t have an answer to. Well, I did—but it wasn’t one I wanted to explain to her.
“I don’t know. Just some family shit, I guess.”
“Are they, like, total assholes?” She pushed up on her elbows and turned to look at me. It was the oddest thing I had ever seen. She appeared downright hopeful.
I tilted my head curiously. “Not at all.”
“Did they, like, hit you and stuff when you were growing up?”
“What? No way!”
“Oh,” she said, deflated, as she reclined again.
“What gave you that idea?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Q always talks about them. He mentioned that you avoid them at all costs. So I was thinking maybe they were pricks and Quarry just didn’t see it yet.”
“No. Till’s . . .” I started, but the words lodged in my throat. “Great. He’s like a father to me.”
“Is Eliza a bitch? I know you don’t like her very much.”
I barked out a laugh. “What? Why do you think that?”
“I don’t know. You get all weird and cranky when Q mentions her.”
I looked away.
The moments that followed would later become one of my biggest regrets with Ash. No matter how many times I’d try to rationalize my actions that night, they’d never add up. The only thing I’d figured was that Ash always made things lighter for me. Gravity didn’t keep me pinned to my wheelchair when I was with her. She freed me, and back then—when it came to Eliza—I needed that more than anything else.
“No. Eliza’s pretty incredible.” I paused and turned my head to face her.
She was still staring up at the sky, and her long, strawberry-blond hair fanned out beside her. The bright moon illuminated her white skin.
She was so beautiful.
She deserved to know what the hell she was getting into with me.
So, for some incredibly ridiculous reason, I admitted, “I’ve been in love with Eliza for years. It’s just easier to avoid her.”
Only the second the words were spoken, it didn’t feel like an admission at all.
It didn’t feel like anything actually.
Not the truth.
Or a lie.
They just felt like words.
“Ewwww!” Ash cried. “You’re in love with your mom?”
“No. She’s not my mom,” I defended.
“You said she and Till raised you guys.”
“I mean, they did. But . . . she’s not my mom.”
“Whatever you think.” She laughed and went back to staring at the stars.
She didn’t speak again for several minutes, and it began to unnerve me. I regretted my decision to tell her. I mean, what the actual hell had I possibly thought I could gain from sharing something like that?
Hey, look. I’m disabled and in love with another woman. Please be with me?
“I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to be with her or anything,” I clarified. “Really, it’s no big deal.”
“Nah. I get it. You have an Oedipus complex?”
“I don’t have an Oedipus complex! She’s not my mom!” I yelled, and she burst out laughing.
That conversation with anyone else would have sent me into a fit of rage, but watching Ash roll around in some dirty weeds while she laughed so hard that tears spilled from her eyes did the opposite.
I
didn’t even feel numb.
I felt everything for the first time in as long as I could remember.
Probably too much, actually.
Maybe Ash wasn’t a thief at all.
Because she had given me back far more than she could ever take.
Ash
Every single word of his confession was like a jagged knife to the heart.
I tried to keep my reaction locked away, but when the tears fell from my eyes, I covered it with a large dose of artificial laughter. I could con Flint into thinking it was funny, but there was nothing I could do to con myself.
I was in love with Flint Page.
And he was in love with someone else.
I didn’t have much experience with relationships. As far as I was concerned, fairytales were real and love only came once in a lifetime, and I had just used mine on a boy who had already given his to another girl.
It didn’t matter that he could never have her. Or that he was watching me with a warm, content smile unlike anything I’d ever seen. All I’d heard in his admission was that I would never truly have him.
I wished I had never asked him about Eliza. I could have lived a thousand lifetimes without knowing how he felt about her. Or, better yet, how he didn’t feel about me. But I hadn’t once expected that to be his answer. I’d just wanted some dirt on her and Till. Dirt that would make me feel better about allowing my father to take Quarry from them.
Only hours earlier, I’d overheard—or, more accurately, recorded—a conversation between Ray and Debbie. It should be known that I’d seen my father do a lot of despicable things, but Debbie had taken it to a whole new level. She knew precisely how much Till loved his brothers and exactly how far he would go to keep his family together. Till probably would have paid them a hefty sum of money to disappear or sign the custody paperwork. However, what Debbie had masterminded had guaranteed a whole lot more than just a hefty sum. The plan was simple. Get custody of Quarry, move him across the country, and cut Till off completely. Then, after a few months, once Till and Eliza got desperate, basically sell him back to them.
They were both aware that getting actual custody of Q wasn’t going to be an easy feat. No judge in his right mind would place him with loser Debbie Mabie over celebrity “The Silencer” Till Page. But just last week, a judge and a date had been assigned to Quarry’s custody case. My father had called in some favors, and within twenty-four hours, he’d had more than enough pictures of that judge with his mistress to secure a win for Team Mabie. With part one done, I knew that part two would be moving. And while I had already decided I wasn’t going with them this time, I knew that Q wouldn’t have that choice.