Page 38 of Secret Puck
“It helped last year. Worth a try, right?”
Heath crosses one ankle over the other. “What do we have here?”
“Sonnets,” Maverick says.
A deep laugh rolls out of him as he brings the paperback up and starts reading. His voice is crisp, and the gravelly timber is easy to slip right under. His pitch varies and practically sings along the stanzas. I’m falling into it so deeply and I’m not even the one who needs to be paying attention.
Heath looks up as he’s flipping the page and our eyes meet over the top of the book.
“Do it in your British accent,” Maverick begs.
Heath looks like he might object, but then Maverick sticks his bottom lip out like he’s pouting.
Heath looks to me again quickly before he starts again. I giggle at his accent, but my stomach flips. Shakespeare will never be the same.
As I’m packingup to leave, Maverick thanks me.
“I’m not sure how much I actually helped, but it was fun. Do you feel good about it?”
“Yeah, Shakespeare’s the shit.”
I laugh.
“Next week, then?”
“Sure. Also, I was thinking, if listening helps, you could try audiobooks.”
“Maybe, but then I’d miss out on Heath reading to me.” He winks at Heath and then whistles to get Charli’s attention. “I’m out. See you tomorrow.”
The man has a point. My body still tingles from Heath’s voice reading such beautiful words.
Rhett went to his room earlier, so it’s just me and Heath as I shoulder my backpack. “He’s right — you have a really nice voice.”
One side of his mouth pulls up into a boyish smile. “Thanks. I have no idea what I was reading.”
“I won’t tell Maverick.”
“Do you have to run off or do you want to stay and hang out?”
“I can stay for a bit.”
“Yeah?” He smiles wider like he’d been expecting me to say no, then takes my backpack off my shoulder and carries it to his room.
He puts my bag on the floor and then clears the clothes and books off his bed so we can sit. There’s a box addressed to him at the end, still unopened. “What’s that?”
“Oh, uh, my brother and his fiancée send me these care packages every month.” He looks a little uncomfortable to admit it.
“My mom did that for Adam his first semester.” Now that I think of it, she hasn’t sent me one yet, although she has been distracted with all the fabulous trips they’ve been taking. The last time I talked to her, she and my dad had just returned from one trip and she was already planning another with her girlfriends. “Every month?”
“Yeah, pretty much without fail.”
“What’s inside?”
“Random shit, different every month.” He pulls at the tape and dives in, looking more excited than he’d seemed a few seconds ago.
“Gift card.” He sets it on the bed. “Granola bars, gum. Nathan must have put this one together.”
“You guys are pretty close then?” I ask as I watch him pull out more stuff (all food-related, shocker) and lay it on the bed.
