Chapter 8 #2
Either way, I’m grateful Thorne isn’t here to see this pathetic display. The man could obviously squat circles around me, and I’ve already humiliated myself enough with my unhinged war against a single rodent.
I don’t need him seeing me fail at the rest of my life.
I hear an annoyed noise beside me and roll my head to the side to see Dex standing a foot away from Roman, who’s glowering at him. ‘Sorry. Help-you,’ Dex signs.
Roman’s hands fly as he replies, ‘I don’t need you to fucking touch me! Mind your own business.’
Dex is frowning and looks to me for interpretation, but fuck that, I’m not on the clock. Rude, I know, but my arms feel like they’re dangling from my sockets by a single tendon.
‘Sorry. Sign slow, please,’ Dex asks, his cheeks flushed.
‘No,’ Roman snaps back.
Dex rolls his eyes, and instead of backing down, he puts a hand on Roman’s chest and pushes. Roman might be fit, but he’s no match for Dex’s arms, and he goes down a little too easily.
‘You-hurt-you,’ Dex signs. I’m not entirely sure what he’s trying to say. But before I can give in and actually interpret, Dex picks up Roman’s leg and hooks his ankle over his shoulder.
Roman makes an absolutely indecent noise. It’s half sex, half pain. He looks horrified because clearly he felt it come out of his chest, and he tries to push Dex away, but Dex is undeterred.
‘Watch me,’ he signs. ‘You hurt. Not CAREFUL.’ He spells the last word, and then he runs the flat of his palm along the inside of Roman’s thigh and presses his thumb to the tendon that joins his leg to his crotch.
Roman freezes, then makes another loud noise and full-on kicks Dex in the chest, sending him stumbling back. Before Dex can recover, Roman is up, all but running from the room.
Dex shoots Rhett a helpless look, but Rhett is falling asleep on Mellie’s shoulder.
Dex looks at me. “Help?”
Oh, for fuck’s…fine. Whatever. It never goddamn ends, no matter how much I quit my job. I stand up on shaking legs and follow the invisible trail of fury Roman left as he exited the room.
It doesn’t take long to find him. He’s in the locker room, vocalizing loudly as he wipes himself down with a wet washcloth. I wave at him, and he turns angry eyes on me.
‘Fuck off.’
I hold up my hands in surrender. ‘Are you okay?’
Roman’s eyes flare, and then he sags a bit. ‘He saw me pull a tendon.’
‘Yes,’ I say, though I had no idea that’s what was going on.
Roman takes a long, slow, deep breath, then says, ‘Tell Thom I’m not coming to his classes until he has ones that are Deaf only.’
I shrug. ‘Up to you.’
Roman’s eyes narrow. ‘What does that mean?’
I can be blunt with him. He might want to murder me, but he won’t. ‘I saw you looking at Dex’s abs.’
He shoots me a middle finger.
‘What? They’re nice abs.’
I can see the torn look on his face. He knows. Internally, he agrees with me, and he hates himself for it. Being attracted to a hearing man must make him so mad.
‘I don’t think he was trying to touch you in a bad way,’ I add.
He huffs loudly. ‘I know that.’ His fingers all but flap down from the side of his head with his anger. He bites his lip, and almost as if he can’t help it, he glances down at himself.
Oh. Ohhhhh. Yeah, been there in that fucking bodysuit. He was going to get hard. Hell, he was probably already half-hard watching Dex’s ass bounce through the whole class.
‘I don’t want him to know,’ Roman signs, irritated. ‘I hate him.’
‘I won’t tell.’ I make a locking motion over the insides of both my wrists.
He breathes heavily through his nose, looks like he might want to say something else, then grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder and stomps out. If he really is hurt, he doesn’t show it in the way he’s walking. And he’s a big boy. If he needs first aid, he knows where to get it.
Shuffling my way back to the room, I’m met with Thom, who shoves a plastic bottle at me with the gym logo. I take a deep drink and grimace. It’s their god-awful electrolyte mix, and I think this one is banana.
What kind of monster designed that fucking flavor?
I bet Michael had a hand in it. Somehow. Some way.
I gulp more of it down. I don’t need to get muscle cramps after all this, and I’m pretty sure I lost half the water in my body to the sweat.
“Is he okay?” Thom asks me when I swipe my hand over my mouth.
I nod and shrug. “Yeah. I think he pulled a tendon or something. Also, he thinks your brother is a dick.”
Thom rolls his eyes. “Well, he’s not wrong. He’s been a pain in my ass my whole life. But you know he didn’t mean anything, right? Like, he wasn’t trying to be an asshole. And he is learning ASL. He’s taking Denver’s class and everything.”
“I know.” I glance behind him, but no one’s paying attention to us. Rhett’s full-on snoring against Mellie’s chest, who’s typing on his phone, and Robbie is nowhere to be found. Dex is also suspiciously absent, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s getting one of Robbie’s famous lectures.
Thom got a lot of them before they worked their shit out.
“He says he’ll come back when you’re ready to offer a Deaf-only class,” I say.
Thom looks somewhat defeated. “That’s going to be a while unless Zev comes back soon. I’m not good enough.” His eyes brighten. “Unless you want to train to—”
“Hold it right there,” I snap. “I am not doing anything more than this. And I am never doing this again. I almost died. Literally.”
He claps me on the shoulder and shakes me slightly. “You did amazing, Leaf! I’m so fucking proud of you.”
I hate how good his words make me feel. “No. I did terribly. I can’t feel my kneecaps, and I think my eye is going to fall out. I’m going home now. I smell like an armpit, and public showers creep me out.”
Thom pulls a face. “Yeah. We sanitize, but I got athlete’s foot twice last year.”
“Disgusting.” I offer him a fist bump, then stomp on the floor until Mellie looks up. ‘See you later?’ Fuck knows when I’ll actually see him. His brother is one of my neighbors, but he never ventures over to my property.
Otto doesn’t socialize much. A lot of people are unsure how to use tactile sign with him. And he has bees. Lots and lots of bees.
Mellie smiles and shrugs, making Rhett groan, but he doesn’t open his eyes.
I take that as my chance to leave, so I turn, heading out toward the front doors. I’m ready to strip down, rub one out, and maybe take a long, overdue afternoon nap and not think about Michael.
Or Thorne.
And then I freeze. Across the parking lot, sitting behind the steering wheel of a car that has been on my property a lot this week, is a very familiar face. And it’s obvious from the way he jolts that he didn’t expect to see me.
Well, fuck this. Maybe he is a stalker.
That thought makes me happier than it should.
I send him a wave, and he tentatively sends one back.
“Alright, Mr. Thorne. I’m gonna find out what you’re doing watching me right this instant,” I mutter.
I stomp toward him, my chin held high, my dick mostly hard, and promptly step the wrong way and fall face-first onto the pavement.