“And don’t be cheap because you feel guilty I’m paying. Remember that I make all my money off empaths.”
Reece stared at him until a honk from behind made him jump. He eased the car forward. “Your knowledge of empaths is frankly freakish.”
“Almost like I’m a specialist.”
“Empath hunter.”
“You’re not locked up at the moment, are you?”
“At the moment, he says.” Reece pulled up to the speaker. “Not the same thing as sayingdon’t worry, I’d never lockyouup.”
They ordered drinks, and Grayson asked for some kind of complicated coffee with extra espresso shots and special-temperature milk. Reece drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he waited. “I knew you’d have fancy taste.”
“What if I told you I usually stir instant coffee into microwaved milk?”
Reece looked at him suspiciously. “Is that a thing in the place where that accent is from?”
“Not that I know of,” said Grayson. “Accent is my dad’s fault. The coffee is how my mom used to make it. I mean, I guess it can be hard to find the right brand in Texas; maybe you think that makes it fancy.”
The Dead Man was from Texas. The Dead Man hadparents. Of course he did, but still. “Hmm.”
“What?”
“I just realized that you probably know everything there is to know about me,” said Reece. “And I don’t know shit about you.”
“That’s sort of the point of the Dead Man,” Grayson said dryly. “No one knows me. I can’t humanize myself; what would you do with your endless supply of zombie jokes?”
But you’re not really dead. Don’t you get lonely?
Reece bit it back. What was he planning to do, offer to keep the Dead Man company? Saylet’s be lonely as fuck together? Clearly his brain was still rattled from the latest meltdown.
After awkwardly maneuvering their drinks through his window and entrusting his to Grayson rather than the admittedly precarious cup holder, Reece pulled into a parking space, because an empathspecialistought to know better than to expect him to drink while driving.
“You finally gonna check your phone?” Grayson said, as he passed back the drink.
Grayson still held himself exceedingly carefully in the car’s tiny space to avoid so much as their shoulders brushing. But when Reece took the drink and their fingers made contact over the gloves, Grayson didn’t flinch. “Now that I’m safely parked, yes. And I will call whoever it is back—”
The phone went off again. Reece jerked, sending hot almond milk splashing out the top of the cup and onto his gloves.
“Crap.” He scrambled for a napkin.
“That’s my—” Reece realized his mistake just as Grayson said, “—hat.”
There was a potent silence.
“Um.” The fine wool of the hat was soaked in sticky syrup and almond milk. Reece tried not to squirm.
The chirpy ringtone went off again, and that was not helping.
“I’m, uh—I should get this,” Reece said awkwardly, and picked up the phone and put it to his ear.
“Are you all right?” Liam demanded.
Reece blinked. “Yes?” he said, making it a question. He sheepishly held the dirty hat out to Grayson, who stared him down.
“Where are you?” Liam said in his ear.
Reece furrowed his brow. “Bellevue?”
