porch was decorated with a rustic American style, with white wicker rocking chairs and low matching tables on the carefully distressed yellow wood floor.
The door swung open and he looked down to see Reggie seated in a bright yellow wheelchair with a plastic bucket seat design.
“Hi.” She wore a white T-shirt with a scene from Reject Squad Ultra screen printed onto it—Aurora shooting Phil a dirty look—and loose jeans that were rolled to just above her ankles. Her tennis shoes were white flats with a design that was almost indecipherable . . . no, it was the cat from Reject Squad Ultra. She was really dedicated.
Her face was just as it had appeared on his screen—wide brown eyes behind too-big black-framed glasses, a pert nose, dusky pink lips. She had freckles on her nose and cheeks, just the lightest dusting over her golden-brown skin, and her reddish curls were pulled back into a puff ponytail. This was the person behind the anime cat avatar, who he’d spent months talking to late at night.
This was his friend.
When he’d heard her voice, his next impulse had been wanting to see her face. When he’d seen her face, he’d wanted to see her in person. Now here she was, and yup, he wanted more again. He wanted to trace those freckles with his tongue. He wanted to feel the spring of her curls beneath his hand, to be close enough to count the dozen different colors that made up the vibrant shade. There was no maybe this is a bad idea or let’s see how this goes. Gus was a man whose decisions, while impulsive, were generally deeply rooted.
He wanted Reggie.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, one side of her mouth pulling into an annoyed grimace. Her hand dropped to the wheel of her chair defensively, as if she might move away from him, and he realized there was a reason people stared at her that was completely unrelated to why he’d been doing it.
“Sorry. It’s just that you’re beautiful,” he clarified. Her eyes went wide. Maybe that hadn’t been the right thing to say instead of “hello.” But it was the truth, and he imagined that lying and saying she wasn’t beautiful wouldn’t work in his favor at this point. Best to change course. He held up the plastic bag. “I brought salad fixings. To go with the pizza?”
“Thanks.” Her furrowed brow showed that she was confused by his directness, his salad offering, or both. “And, um, thanks. Hi. Come in.”
Gus slid off his shoes at the door and took in the way Reggie’s shoulders were slightly tensed as she looked up at him. He was a stranger who had just called her beautiful, and while she was far from weak given the way her sleeves were tight around her biceps, it had to be somewhat disconcerting having him in her house.
“Thank you for inviting me into this sweet, sweet air-conditioning,” he said. “Do you want to eat first and talk about the escape room later? Or go through the ideas I have first and then eat? I’m leaving the game plan entirely up to you.”
“Why don’t you bring that into the kitchen and then give me your plan so far so I can look over it,” she said, her tone a little businesslike. “The pizza got here a few minutes ago and is keeping warm in the oven. You can make the salad and we’ll go over your ideas in the dining room while we eat. Does that work?”
He’d been right—she was a woman used to getting what she wanted, because she was the kind of person who had plans and wasn’t scared to delegate them. Gus liked people like this—there was a difference between being bossy and being clear, and Reggie seemed to be right in the sweet spot.
“Sounds good to me.” He walked beside Reggie, so she didn’t have to look back to keep an eye on him.
The hallway was central in the house, given the placement of the doorway, with one room on each side, leading to a more open area toward the back of the house. One of the doors they passed was closed, but through the other Gus caught a glimpse of several wheelchairs, at least one of which looked like something from a sci-fi movie. He imagined none of them had come cheaply.
“You have a lot of those,” he said.
She glanced up at him, and when she spoke there was a frost in the