“I hate it.”
“News flash, Liv. You don’t have to deal with it. I do. You’re in the clear,” I smarted and immediately felt guilty when her body stiffened behind me.
“If it happens to you, then I have to deal with it too. You watch my back, and I watch yours. It’s the most important rule of being best friends.”
A warmth I’d never felt before washed over me.
I was important to her.
I swallowed around the newly formed lump in my throat. “Okay, what if I promise to be really, really loud when I go deaf? Then you won’t ever have to worry about it again.”
“What if you just promise not to go deaf?”
Fuck, I wished I could do that. For both of us.
“I’ll try.”
“Okay, and while you work on that, I’ll learn sign language. That way, we can still hang out if it happens. I bought a book about it on my iPad last night.”
Another blast of warmth filled my chest.
I had brothers—warmth wasn’t exactly their specialty.
I liked Liv. It was no secret.
But, with an overwhelming rush, I suddenly more than liked her.
In that moment, with her arms wrapped around me and her tears staining the back of my shirt, I never wanted her to let go.
And, for that reason alone, I folded my hand over hers and made a silent vow that, no matter what, I’d never let go, either.
If that meant protecting her from the silence, I was more than up for the fight. No matter how impossible it might be.
“You watch my back, and I watch yours.”
I’d do whatever it took to keep her from being afraid.
Not for me.
Not from her past.
And definitely not because of anyone else.
Never.
Finally, she released her vise grip on my waist. An unwelcome chill slid over my skin in the absence of her warmth.
Suddenly, touching wasn’t so weird anymore.
It was a necessity.
I took a step away and turned to face her. Reaching out, I caught her small hand in mine, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m good. I swear.” And, for the first time since Till had dropped the bomb, it wasn’t a lie.
I now had a purpose.
And her name was Liv James.
She craned her head back, and her big, brown eyes bored into my soul unlike anything I’d ever felt before. They were puffy and red from her crying, but they were still mesmerizing.
And comforting.
And exactly why I had to look away.
“What the hell!” Slate boomed.
I released her hand seconds before her fist landed on my chest.
“You jerk!” she yelled at me, but her eyes never turned angry. If anything, they softened.
My gaze flashed to Slate, who looked murderous.
“This is the boys’ locker room, Liv!” he barked, clearly mad to have found her in there. But probably angrier that she was in there alone—with me.
A devilish grin formed on her pink-glossed lips before she spun to face him. “Sorry, Uncle Slate. Quarry pushed me in the hall. I couldn’t let him get away with it. You taught me better than to let a boy hurt me.”
Son of a bitch!
I couldn’t see her face, but I was positive she was batting her lashes. And, as she sniffled and wiped her hands under her tear-stained eyes, I knew she was milking it.
Dropping my head back, I cursed at the ceiling.
“Quarry!” he snapped, but I didn’t need him to finish.
I walked toward the door. “Yeah. I got it. Six laps. I’ll meet you in the ring when I’m done.”
Just as I got to the door, her angelic voice called out, “Later, Q!”
Shaking my head, I responded, “Later, Liv!”
AS TIME PASSED, QUARRY AND I only became closer. We were best friends. And, even though we didn’t get to see each other every day, it was unforgettable each time we were together.
Over the next year, Till’s dream came true as he started boxing professionally. Uncle Slate was his trainer, which meant, as the head of his security, my father was on the road with the Page family more often than not. It also meant that I got to see Quarry almost every weekend. Those visits were the highlights of my week. I spent Monday through Friday at my private school in Chicago, counting down the days until I got to see those hazel eyes and that boyish smirk again.
Quarry followed through on his promise to me and tried really hard not to go deaf, and I followed through on my promise to him and learned sign language just in case. I had to quit soccer in order to make the nightly classes at the local community center, but I was okay with that. Quarry was more important, and to be honest, shin guards and grass stains clashed with everything.
When I was ten, Quarry beat the snot out of some kid at one of Till’s professional boxing matches for having called me a nerd. I hadn’t even heard the comment because I’d been wearing my headphones and engrossed in a book. But that didn’t mean I didn’t take great pleasure in watching Quarry teach that jerk a lesson. He was always there for me, even when I didn’t even know I needed him to be. It was yet another layer of security my timid soul so badly needed.