Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
DEX
As much as I don’t want to be constantly aware of Rome’s presence, I can’t help it.
I swear I can feel him, like he’s a second heartbeat inside my chest. I don’t know why I’m surprised to see him in the class.
Not just because he hated himself for stalking me at the gym three years ago, but also because last night, he’d been fucked-up beyond reason at his welcome home party, and I didn’t expect him to remember there was a class today.
Seeing him last night was…there were no real words for how it felt. It was comforting being in a room full of people I’d gotten to know well over the last few years, but it was emotional torment because the party was for the man who had iced me out without remorse.
The place he was renting was furnished, so none of the things there were his, and yet, his mark was all over it. His scent, his energy—all of it was so…him. I could feel it almost suffocating me the moment I walked through the door.
I had no idea what to expect from our little reunion, but I hadn’t expected him to be cross-eyed, blinking rapidly, and on the verge of either hyperventilating or passing out. I told myself to let him be—to let his actual friends take care of him.
Yet, somehow, I found myself guiding him to his bed and tucking him in. I fell just short of kissing his forehead as I knelt beside the bed and watched him drift into a restless sleep.
Eventually, Thom wandered in and gave me a strange look. ‘What’s happening?’
I shook my head. ‘He was passing out. Drunk, I think?’
Thom grimaced. ‘No. Robbie gave him a gummy.’
Oh my god, Robbie and his fucking gummies. But it made sense, so I left him there and went back to the party, and now, once again, he’s here. In my space. Watching me.
I try like hell not to look at him, but I can feel his gaze on me with every move he makes.
And as soon as I finally give him a peek, he turns and leaves.
I want nothing more than to chase him into the gym. I have no idea why he left class early, but I can’t just follow him out and demand answers. It’s not going to turn out like last time if I do, and frankly, I don’t think I want it to.
Besides, I have to finish the class, so I quickly guide everyone into the cooldown a couple of minutes early.
I gulp down my electrolytes as everyone rolls up their mat, and out of the corner of my eye, I see the guy who’d been chatting up Rome earlier.
Unreasonable jealousy rushes through me, and I want to hit him.
“Hey, great class. You’re an amazing teacher,” he says.
I try my best for a sincere smile. “Thanks, man. You did great.” Especially at making Rome smile, you fucking fuck. I swallow that back and offer my hand. “I’m Dex. You’re new here, right?”
He flushes and shrugs. “Yeah. I’m Palmer. My brother’s been coming here for years, and I decided I should probably do something about my flat ass and jelly arms.”
I grin in spite of myself. I fucking detest that I can’t hate him.
“Well, I hope to see you again, Palmer.” I don’t know if I mean that, which isn’t fair. He seems sweet, and it’s not like he was hitting on Rome…right? I missed most of their conversation. I was too busy trying not to look.
“So…you do all this.” He gestures toward the TV screen, which is off, and I want to scream because I don’t want to be making small talk when I could be chasing after Rome—wherever the fuck he went. But this is part of the job. And I’m going to do my damn job. “For Deaf people, right?”
“For anyone who might need it,” I explain. “We do have some classes led in ASL.”
“You do them?”
I flush. “No. Not…not yet. I’m still learning. My brother does a few.”
“That’s really nice of you.”
It’s the bare minimum, really. Something Denver taught me. But I don’t bother getting into that. I don’t have time. I have places to be, former hookups to confront.
“Anyway,” I say, as politely as I can manage, “I have to get going.”
“Oh, right. Yes. Sorry.” He flushes again, and I feel bad for him. He seems sweet. “See you sometime?”
I stare, then realize it’s a genuine question. “Well, I’m the owner here, so you should catch me around a lot. Take care, Parker—”
“Palmer.”
I grimace. “Sorry, shit. I’m usually better with names.”
He shrugs and suddenly looks small. “I tend to be forgettable.”
“Hey, no—” I start.
He waves me off. “No, really. I work as a vet in town and spend most of my time with animals. I’m not the best with people.”
He doesn’t look like a vet, though I have no idea what vets are meant to look like. I step away, then hesitate. “Come to my yoga flow class on Tuesday if you can. I think you’ll like it. It’s a lot less intense than this.”
He brightens and looks relieved. “Okay. I’ll check with the front desk.”
There. Some of my guilt assuaged, I turn and shove my water bottle under my armpit and head out into the main room. The air here is a bit cooler from the massive fans we have running, which makes the back of my neck prickle with goose bumps.
The gym is pretty dead on a Sunday morning, but I see two very familiar faces at the front. Leaf looks a lot less haggard and stressed now since meeting Thorne, and it’s probably not just getting dicked down on the regular that’s made him this way either.
Michael is still a menace on the farm, but Leaf has embraced the chaos and has even planted a massive garden for Michael to feast on. They’re also slowly replacing the apple trees with cherry. It’s going to be a decades-long process, but considering Leaf is allergic, it makes sense.
I wave as I walk up, and Thorne catches my eye first, smiling as I approach. I see immediately he’s not wearing his hearing aids. In the last three years, he’s lost most of his hearing, and he’s in the middle of debating whether or not he wants to get cochlear implants.
For now, signing is easy enough. ‘Are you here for a class?’
Leaf grimaces as Thorne laughs. ‘Thom’s Zumba class.’
Zumba is the one thing I won’t do. I do not have the rhythm or the skill.
‘I’m being tortured,’ Leaf complains. ‘I think Thorne just wants me in this class so he can mock my moves.’
‘They’re good moves,’ Thorne replies with a smirk.
I grin at the two of them, then glance around in hopes I’ll see some sign of Rome. He’s probably in the locker room. Or he’s left already. That thought makes my insides twist.
‘I didn’t see you at Rome’s welcome party,’ I say, trying to ease into asking about him.
Leaf rolls his eyes. ‘Michael chewed through the cords for the outdoor lights, and we had to spend all day replacing them.’
Thorne leans over and presses a soft kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. ‘I made him feel better after though.’
I know exactly what that means, and I don’t need to hear about another happy couple’s sexcapades. This is already depressing enough. ‘Have you seen Rome since he got back?’
Leaf frowns. ‘No, not yet. We’ll probably find some time to hang out soon.’
That means they haven’t seen him here either. Fantastic. Well…
‘Do you have any free time next week?’ Leaf asks after waving at me to get my attention.
Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it…
‘I probably do.’ Ugh, why can’t I just lie to my friends? ‘You need something?’
‘We have a huge project going on at the farm and could use some help. I can pay,’ Leaf says, giving me doe eyes.
‘Cash,’ Thorne adds.
I sigh. ‘Pizza and beer is fine. You don’t need to pay me in cash.’
Thorne laughs. ‘No, we’ll pay you with money. Worth it, trust me. It’s a lot of work.’
I want to say no. I don’t want more shit on my plate except for resolving this Rome issue and then hoping that Lexi and Drew have at least one friend I can fall madly in love with.
But of course, I don’t say no. I never do.
‘Text me when and where, and I’ll be there.’
Leaf brightens and tugs me into a quick hug. “Thank you. You and me. Best friends!” he signs and says aloud.
I wave him off, then head for the showers.
Without a backward glance at my two friends, I walk into the locker room and grab my bag with my towel and soap. I could just wander around the gym sweaty, but I can’t cope with that. Not when my next class is this afternoon, and a shower won’t take too long.
I just need a quick scrub, and then I’ll be back at it.
After, I’ll grab a smoothie from the small snack bar we added last year and then get back to work on the paperwork looming in my office.
As I walk toward the showers in the back corner, lifting a hand to wave at a regular, I see Rome step out of a stall, a towel around his waist. He didn’t even bother drying off. Water is dripping down his tan skin, collecting in the grooves of his muscles.
His gaze flicks up to meet mine, and my heart thumps heavily in my chest.
In my cock.
We stare at each other for a long pause.
And then he exhales and flicks his gaze away, moving past me.
I force myself not to watch him as he brushes against my shoulder, the whisper of his towel hitting my exposed skin.
I hold my breath, not wanting to smell him. His scent has always been intoxicating.
The problem is the only shower available is the one he just left.
I shouldn’t go in there, should just walk away, but I can’t help myself. I move into the small space, flicking the water on, scented steam still lingering in the enclosed space. It smells of him, I think as I pull my clothes off and step under the spray.
How many times have I stood under these nozzles and remembered Rome on his knees before me, my cock down his throat?
Far too fucking many for my sanity.
I wish I had that recording. There were so many times I wanted to watch it. But maybe it was a blessing I didn’t. It would have consumed me.
The sight of him is almost enough to send me over the edge as it is.
My hand wraps around my hard cock as I grab my soap and start to scrub myself clean. Part of me wants Rome to turn around and step inside here with me, to force his lips onto mine, to drop to his knees once more.
But he doesn’t, so I shower quickly, refusing to linger just in case. And when I have the towel wrapped around my waist and I pull the shower door open, Rome proves me wrong. He’s standing right there, staring with his dark, heavy-lidded eyes.
Fuck.
It’s a shock, breath leaving my lungs.
His eyes slam into mine, and then he’s moving, his hand wrapping around my neck and walking me backward.
I go without a fight, my back hitting the cool tiles behind me, Rome crowding me, his fingers flexing against my skin. His breath feathers against my lips, and I place my hands flat on the wall behind me so as not to reach out and touch him.
His forehead meets mine for a moment, the air charged and heavy between us, before he steps back. His cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving.
Our eyes clash, and then he starts to sign, his movements shaky and frantic, but I see it all. I can understand exactly what he’s trying to tell me. Three years of almost constant exposure to ASL will do that.
The thing is, I don’t think he knows I know what he’s saying, because he’s being far too honest. Far too raw.
I don’t interrupt. I just keep my hands against the wall and let him expose himself to me. All of him.
Each and every fragile part.