Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
ROME
The plane shudders through turbulence, knocking me out of my half trance. I got zero sleep last night, and it’s entirely one man’s fault.
Dex. God help me.
Fucking Thom’s brother was not in my life plan.
It wasn’t in my retirement plan. It wasn’t in my last-man-on-Earth plan.
After my shitty-as-fuck ex, I never planned on going near a hearing guy again.
I’m not foolish enough to think every hearing person on the planet is a bad guy.
I love Rhett like family. He’s got a massive Deaf heart and has always made everyone’s life easy.
But there’s a difference between guys like Rhett and guys like Dex.
Guys who are trying and guys who want to skate by with the bare minimum. Though that might be unfair because Dex is trying. He’s just new. I don’t have the patience for that, and I never have. And if I were ever capable of it, my ex cooked it out of me a long time ago.
But that’s what makes this so much worse.
Dex caught me at one of my most vulnerable moments, and I let go of all that anger just long enough to let him in past my walls, and now I have nothing more than regret sitting like a heavy weight on my chest.
It doesn’t help that I’m still nursing a minor heartbreak over Robbie falling in love with a hearing himbo. I’m not delusional enough to think I will ever be good enough for him, but I thought he’d choose better.
I thought he’d choose a man who didn’t make me feel even worse about myself. I realize that’s not totally his problem, and he really doesn’t have any commitment to me, but seriously? What the fuck does Thom have that I don’t? Well, apart from being a giant walking golden retriever and big muscles?
It’s hard to believe Robbie’s into that kind of person.
He’s like me—a grumpy dick, bitter at the world, exhausted from working twice as hard for half the recognition, always being fucked over by hearing guys.
When we first met, we agreed on this. Hearing people were just too hard, too complicated to deal with, and would always turn on you in the end.
And then he had to turn into a fucking traitor.
So what if Thom has nice abs and a gorgeous ass that looks like it could be a national landmark?
And so what if he’s kind and accommodating, turning his gym into a Deaf-friendly space?
So what if he hired Deaf staff and went out of his way to speed-learn an entirely new language to make sure his boyfriend is included everywhere they go together—
Okay, yeah, I can see where I’m the asshole in all of this.
I have to admit, Thom is a gem, whether I like it or not.
He’s nothing like my ex and never has been.
But sue me for being bitter. I’m so fucking tired, and Robbie and I had a pact.
It’s my fault I fucked up with him so badly he never considered me for a serious relationship, but Thom seems like a bridge too far.
And now I’m in a situation much like Robbie’s, though I’m refusing to give in as quickly as he did.
But Dex is making me feel all sorts of ways. His face, his eyes, his fucking hands. When he texted me, I told myself I would not go over there. I was busy upending my life after my dad decided to send me to Paris to run the offices there. But his text kept staring at me.
Taunting me.
Tempting me.
I wasn’t even really aware I’d gotten in my car and started driving until I was at his front door. After that, it was easy to forget for a little while. It was easy to let our bodies do the talking.
It was supposed to be a quick and simple thing. Then he’d looked me in the eye, and his hands asked me to stay, and I was the jackass for saying yes. If anything could solidify my role as the fucking asshole of our entire friend group, it was me making a promise I knew I wouldn’t keep.
I’d had this trip planned for months now, but the look on his face made me want to stay.
It made me want to break my promise to my dad and say fuck work and live in Dex’s bed like his hidden little sugar baby, living off orgasms and whatever garbage protein drinks he force-fed me to keep my strength up.
It had been a near thing too. I had almost sent a text to my dad letting him know I couldn’t do it—that I had to stay.
I couldn’t help wanting it. I couldn’t help lying there fantasizing about what it would be like waking up with him every morning with my mouth around his cock or his own buried deep in my ass.
I couldn’t help picture having breakfast after—watching him take down a disgusting protein shake while I sipped my coffee and admired him every time he lifted his shirt to scratch his abs. And his smile, god, he had such a gorgeous smile.
If only he were a different person. If only he belonged in my world.
But he doesn’t, and I have no business feeling this way.
That thought kept me up, and after that, it was easy to slip out of his house without a word and get on with my life.
France isn’t going to be forever. Three years if everything goes to plan, which I can only hope is the exact amount of time I need to scrub not just Dex from my brain, but also the last, lingering bits of feeling I’ve been carrying for Robbie.
A couple of months back, when my dad told me he needed someone to head up his office in Paris, I literally jumped at the chance. I needed space from the way it felt like my life was falling apart.
It was an easy choice too. My dad was born and grew up in a little town outside of Versailles, so I grew up exposed to both French and la langue des signes francaise.
My dad is hearing, but his father was Deaf, so he grew up with LSF as his primary language at home.
It meant being shouted at with his voice and his hands in that second and third language every time I pissed him off.
Which was a lot.
He was a single dad and exhausted and stressed, and he took a lot out on me. But our relationship is strong now, and I can’t help but wonder if he noticed that I was starting to fall apart after Robbie and Thom made their relationship official.
And, if I’m being honest, I wasn’t holding it together very well before then either.
The saving grace of this whole thing is that there’s a shitload of work to be done at the new office. Most of the time I’ll be too busy making sure the coding for the captions system is correct to care about what’s going on back home.
And the rest of the time, I’ll be too busy stuffing my face with fresh baguettes and a mountain of cheese to worry about what life is going to be like after these three years.
Like how Robbie and Thom will probably be married.
How Dex will probably meet someone gorgeous who actually smiles and treats him the way he deserves to be treated.
How I’ll be left behind. As usual.
But hey, if I find a nice, hot, Deaf Parisian to spend my time with, well…there are worse things that can happen while I’m away.
I close my eyes and attempt to envision the perfect Frenchman, only to have a hot, doe-eyed gym rat in his obscenely cut tank top appear behind my eyelids. God damn it. I needed to escape him.
He’s not for me. He doesn’t know my culture. He doesn’t know my language. He doesn’t belong in my friend group. We’re the wrong match, no matter how good we are in bed.
Fuck, my dick feels a little thick behind my zipper, and I shift, trying not to alert the person in the seat next to me that I’m feeling a certain way.
Glancing out the window, I see land now.
The sun’s midway through the sky, which means I’ll have a few daylight hours left to burn as I get settled into the cottage.
It’s my dad’s childhood home that’s been rented out for families on vacation, but it’s been vacant for a while, and the cleaning service sent a message right before takeoff that they were done cleaning and stocking the place.
My new life is ready for me. And I’m ready for it. As ready as I’ll ever be, anyway.
Tapping my fingers on the armrest, I debate about putting in my hearing aids. My hearing is shit at best, but with a lot of concentration, I can usually make out some of what the captain is saying over the intercom.
It’s better when the person is face-to-face with me. Like Dex with his low rumble, pitched enough, I can both hear and feel the obscene way he moans.
God damn it, I am not thinking about that right now.
I pull up my plane tracker on my phone instead. There’s half an hour before descent. It’s enough time to get my nerves settled.
This is my new life for the next three years. That’s enough time to give myself the chance to figure out what the fuck I want for my future.
And enough time to forget those crooked eyeteeth, and the paint-splatter freckles on pale cheeks, and those goddamn blue eyes.
Charles de Gaulle is probably my least favorite airport.
It’s chaotic and full of people. And while they moved smoking to only designated areas, the smell of nicotine clings to old, yellowed walls and walkways.
People are also not interested in giving space as I ride the long escalator tube to get the fuck out of here.
As much as I try to avoid it, I end up sandwiched between two families with children whose voices are pitched just loud enough for me to hear them screaming.
Wonderful.
A headache blooms behind my eyes.
But even with the pain, the moment I step outside and head for the cab line, I feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. It feels the same as when I was a kid. I remember clinging to my dad’s hand, feeling like I was an entire universe away from home.
And the small town he grew up in was so different from the city. The moment the concrete turned into gentle rolling hills and thick green trees, I couldn’t take my eyes off it. Chaville was romantic in the way that I expected Paris to be but wasn’t.
I will never understand why they call that the city of love.