at me, I imagined they saw a barren wasteland of not being able to have sex (false, not that anyone other than my vibrator knew that), never being able to have kids (also false, my doctor assured me), and always needing to ask for help to reach the top shelves at the grocery store (true, unfortunately).
Sometimes, The Pitiers spoke to me like I couldn't understand them. Like the chair somehow reflected a cognitive impairment as well. Only occasionally would I mess with them.
I never claimed to be a saint. Losing the function of your legs did not automatically make you a virtuous person. In fact, I'd met some real assholes who spent their lives on two wheels. Personally, I found myself somewhere in the middle. I just ... liked to keep some of my cynicism tightly wrapped unless I really trusted you.
Poor Levi.
He got the brunt of my opinions.
My mom probably would've listened if I unloaded them on her, but that never ended well.
"Who's training you?" Levi asked as we passed the entrance of the lodge. I could see the striped awning of Donner Bakery across the parking lot. Afternoon guests sat at the wrought-iron tables and chairs in front of the building, drinking sweet tea and eating whatever confections had been whipped up that day.
"I think it's Jennifer Winston, but I don't know for sure," I told him. My hands gripped the metal ring mounted just outside my wheels as I pushed down harder than necessary. He cut me a sideways look when I sped up, which I ignored because if he asked me if I was nervous, I'd ram his shins.
Hopefully, they had some cream puffs left over because ever since Levi brought me the last lemon lavender cream puff, I'd been trying desperately to recreate it at home to no avail.
"Jennifer Donner Winston," he corrected. “Can’t forget that middle name. It’s important around here.”
I rolled my eyes.
"Hey, it's a woman's right to have as many names as she wants."
"I know, I know." I knew what her name was; Levi just liked to rub it in my face that I was, as he called it, Green Valley Lite. I knew people. Sort of. But even after five years of living here, I didn't know everyone by name. I didn't know their family trees or who lost their dog last week or who got pulled over after a jam session or whose daddy was in the Iron Wraiths.
"And the kitchen is fully accessible?" he asked.
"She told me it was. That’s why I’m working at this location and not the one downtown."
He scoffed. "And what does she know about accessible kitchens?"
"Oh, probably nothing," I drawled.
"Right?" Levi shook his head. "Because unless those openings have at least thirty-six inches of clearance, she's gonna have issues."
Now it was my turn to cut him a look. "You gonna bring your ruler in?"
"Maybe." He patted the front of his jeans and gave me an unapologetic grin. His stupid dimples popped on either side of his perpetually smiling mouth.
Really, we were a ridiculous pair.
Made all the more apparent when a tall, skinny brunette with a giant rack almost tripped over her espadrilles at the sight of a smiling Levi. He nodded at her, and she blushed prettily.
"Oh, for the love of," I mumbled, pushing harder again just so I didn't have to watch. If he wanted to sleep with half the population of Tennessee, I didn't care, but that didn't mean I wanted to witness it either.
Witnessing it was my own fault, honestly. It would've been easy enough to turn down his offer to accompany me, but since he'd finished his master's, he got bored too frequently between job searches, and I couldn't stand the thought of him moping around his apartment.
Now I wish I'd made his ass stay home.
I could be wheeling around naked, and I wouldn't get the same number of looks from the opposite sex as Levi did just by breathing.
"Wait up." He laughed.
I stopped the chair and pivoted the wheels in his direction. His hands braced on the armrests when I folded my hands in my lap. Levi narrowed his eyes as he peered down at me. With the sun facing him, they didn't look the normal greenish hazel. They were like amber, bright and streaked with yellow. It was fitting for him. The sun always seemed to shine bright on Levi Buchanan.
So annoying.
Good thing I loved him so damn much. Not like love love. Brotherly love. Annoying, want to punch