I think he might be quirking back at me. “Come, Watchful Person, and I’ll show you what I mean.”
“What? Where?” His gloved hand grabs mine. Even through layers of material, I can feel the shape of his palm fitting against mine in a way that’s become too familiar. Too comfortable. “Anthony, no.”
“I’m helping you down.”
“That’s not how it looks.”
“No one is looking. No one will look unless you draw attention to us.”
“Anthony!”
“Two minutes. This first bit is pretty steep.”
I blow out a frustrated breath, but the truth is I don’t want to let go of his hand. Plus, I want to see what he’s going to show me. “Fine. Two minutes.”
He leads me around the boulder, down a short vee cut into the mountain. It’s not much more than two minutes later that he stops in front of a bush growing at the base of a rock.
My pulse spikes at the steepness of the trail, the memory of Ben talking about this trail. But probably more snakes. I look around nervously, but I’m with Anthony, and he’s not worried. “What are you doing?” I ask.
“Picking you a flower.” He crouches down and pulls up a stalk of fuzzy green leaves and purple flowers. With a flourish, he holds it out to me.
The petals are open, a little wilted at the edges. I pull off a glove and take it; the green leaves are surprisingly soft and pillowy. “What are they?”
“Not sure. Some kind of wildflower. They grow up out of nothing, clinging to rock and dry earth.”
I think about that, the miracle of anything blooming out here. “How did you know they were here?”
“I’ve been down this way.” He straightens, points to where the floor of the range spreads out beneath us. “That’s the bottom Amber was talking about.”
“You’ve gone all the way?”
His dimple winks at me. “I have. Want me to show you? We can hike the trail, too.”
“Behave, Adams.”
“Never, Senn.”
I study the ground around us, careful to keep my weight on my back foot, closest to the ridge. I wouldn’t die if I fell, but it’s steep enough I’m not chancing it. “What kind of cactus is that?” I point to one with a rounded body covered in needles.
“Bottle cactus.”
“They look dangerous.”
“There’s a reason they’ve been around for thousands of years. Good self-protection.”
“Nature is so sensible. Everything is designed so smartly.”
“Not so smart with humans, though.”
“What do you mean?”
He runs a finger down my forearm. “You’ve got all this soft skin. Gets burned.”
“You get burned. I’m wearing long sleeves.” I check to be sure no one is on the trail above us. “This is not fling-time, Anthony.”
“It should be. Flings are a part of nature.”
“There is nothing natural about a fling.”
“Sure, there is. Lots of species have flings.”
I tug down my sunglasses to give him an exasperated look.
“Giraffes are legendary for flings.”
I add an eye roll for effect. “Liar.”
“It’s true. The boy giraffe introduces himself to a girl giraffe by drinking her pee.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“You just said nature was a beautiful thing.”
“It is.” I slide my sunglasses in place. “Which is why you’re making all of this up.”
“God’s honest truth. Not the fling part, but the pee part. My brother, Troy, learned that little fact in fifth grade when information like that was gold. See,” he adds. “Flinging with me can be very educational. Try not to be too impressed.”
I groan, but I have to turn away to hide a smile.
“So what time tonight?” he asks.
“Six at the library. And dress up.”
“We’re dressing up?” he asks sharply.
“I’m not. But you should because it’ll make you more uncomfortable.”
He stares a second and then laughs. “Oh, Killer.”
“What?”
“If you weren’t such a pain in my ass, I’d kiss you right now.”
“If you weren’t such a pain in my ass, I’d let you.”
I start up the path, his low laugh trailing behind me.
Chapter Eighteen
Mai
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I note the expression on Anthony’s face and decide it would be fun coming up with a few adjectives for him. Glum. Glowering. Appalled. I silently congratulate myself on tonight’s plan.
On the drive over, Anthony tried to get the location out of me. I refused to ruin the surprise. He finally gave up and turned on the radio—something rap. I stopped that in a hurry and made him listen to Soft Sounds, my favorite station. I lectured him on the calming influence of music on brain waves. He called me a zombie.
The night is off to an excellent start.
Now, we’re standing outside the store, underneath a striped awning, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla in the air. It’s only six o’clock, so plenty of light to see the misery on Anthony’s face.
“A kitchen supply store is bad enough. But this?” He points to the sign propped on an easel beside the front door.
cooking with chemistry. free class tonight.
I smile.
He scowls. “Someone found a way to ruin cooking?”
“Not ruin it. Enhance it. Shine a light on the chemical processes that make cooking possible.”
“Like I said, ruin it.”
With a wave of my hand, I head for the front door. “Follow me.” The store is a colorful maze of high-end cooking things. It smells even better in here. Like eggnog. Anthony’s flip-flops slap the tile behind me. He didn’t dress up. He dressed very…down. In fact, I stop to face him.
“What?” he asks. He shoves back his hair, ruffling it in the process. Of course he has the annoying kind of hair that looks good messed up.
I bite back a sigh and straighten my spine. “You’re looking especially grungy tonight. Is that stain on your shirt recent or did you just not bother to wash it?”