Signs of Attraction Page 7

  And here I thought I liked math because my father did. Though I supposed Reed had a point. Math was easy to follow along without sound, in contrast to my other subjects.

  My dad’s an engineer. One of my sisters is an accountant. I’m the only one who can’t hear. Explain that, Mr. Teacher.

  Reed snorted.

  “Fine,” he signed. Then he mimed bowing down to me, which was a mini head nod from his position.

  I pushed his shoulder, and he went with the motion before righting himself. I was pretty sure he did that only because he wanted to. The man oozed strength; a light push from me wouldn’t send him spiraling.

  He pointed to me, made the sign for love, then changed both hands to the letter M and had them brush each other. “M-A-T-H.”

  I love math. Yup, that was true. I copied his signs and nodded. When I met his eyes again, they were hot on mine, and I got lost in them. We were alone in my room, the door closed since D studied in the living room. Suddenly it felt very private in here. We hadn’t had much time together in the past week. My headache had been up to turbo level on Thursday, so we hadn’t gone out after class. Reed had walked me home and gave my throbbing head a kiss good night. And for an hour afterward, my head was quiet.

  Now the silent room filled with my heart drumming in my ears. I let my gaze travel down to Reed’s lip as I licked my own. When I forced my eyes back to his, he was no longer looking in my eyes. He was looking at my mouth. I inched forward, just a bit. He held still, holding strong at the top of the Most Confusing Guy List. Anyone else would have been all over me by now. Reed held back.

  I inched forward again. If he didn’t kiss me, I’d kiss him. A surge of power came over me at that concept. Maybe it was time for a change. I gathered up my courage and began to move, only to have Reed finally break.

  He crashed into me, his lips on mine, one hand behind my head. Heat surged within me as our lips brushed and our tongues teased. This was what I had wanted. Much better than . . . than . . . I couldn’t even remember what we had been doing.

  I shifted to face him and ended up flat on my back, with him on top of me. His warmth spread through me, eradicating any lingering chill. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close. Fingers itched to explore his body. Every inch of him pressed against me, and there was no doubt in my mind this was a fit man—and I wanted more.

  He held one hand to my head. The other slipped under my back, large hand sprawled out. I squirmed, wanting more of him, needing more of him. He pressed our bodies closer together, accentuating a definite bulge behind his fly.

  As I contemplated how far I wanted to go and quickly laughed at myself for having any modicum of self-control, he pulled back. In fact, he pulled himself completely off me and the bed, much like he had when we were wrestling over the laptop a few weeks ago. What the hell? He stood, breath heavy, bulge apparent, and ran two hands through his hair. Hair I must have messed up without even realizing it.

  “No,” he signed, unable to get his breath under control. He grabbed the notebook. While he wrote, I stayed sprawled on my back, 100 percent confused. He was as into this as I was. I felt it. I had visual proof. Why the rejection? Again. Before the hurt overpowered the heat, he handed me the notebook.

  I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you.

  I blinked at his words, somehow even more confused than minutes ago. I had been two steps away from removing my own clothes and announcing I was on birth control. If either of us was taking advantage of the other, I was the culprit, not him. Before I could grab the pen, Reed began packing up his stuff. I waved for his attention. He ignored me. I grabbed his arm, and he froze.

  “Stop,” I signed, then grabbed my phone.

  Me: You didn’t take advantage of me. Why are you leaving?

  My heart sagged heavy as I watched him read and waited for his response.

  Reed: I have to. Trust me. Thursday? Dinner?

  Me: I don’t understand.

  If he didn’t like me, why was he here in the first place? I pulled my knees into my chest, hands clutched. Unsure if I was confused or hurt. Confurt, a messed-up word for my messed-up emotions. Reed let out a breath and sat down next to me.

  Reed: I’m sorry. I just . . . need to take things slow. Thursday?

  Well, how could I argue with that?

  Me: Stay. Let’s finish work. You were still ripping apart my diagramming. How am I supposed to put it back together?

  He glanced at the paper he’d demolished but not finished correcting. A hidden conflict played out in him. The only thing not hidden was the bulge lingering in his pants. A bulge I really wanted to help him with, despite his odd behavior.

  “Sorry, you right.” He put down his stuff and went back to work, remaining seated this time around. I still got a kiss good-bye when he left, but it was cautious, controlled. More than anything, I wanted this man to lose control. I wanted to feel all of him, whatever lurked beneath that surface. A part of me warned that I should be worried about his reasons for holding back. But the truth was that I trusted him. More than I should.

  Chapter Twelve

  Reed

  ON WEDNESDAY, TANNER had a rare weeknight free and demanded dinner in the city. Willow was already crashing at our place, so we played rock, paper, scissors for designated driver. I lost. The girls hugged and kissed each other like they won the lottery. I headed out to my car without them and gunned my engine. It got the girls into the car and earned me the label of asshole for the night. I pointed out that designated asshole driver might not be a good thing.

  I sipped my Coke as the three of them drank their beers, or fruity drink in Willow’s case. I gestured for her drink. “Come on. One sip?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I always lose my drink when you drive.”

  I grinned as I took more than a sip, stopping only when Willow slapped my shoulder and reclaimed her drink.

  “Delicious.”

  “Bastard.”

  Tanner tapped his fingers on the table. “Maybe I’m wrong. But this man here looks awfully perky.”

  I rested my elbows on the table.

  “He has a girlfriend,” Willow announced.

  Tanner’s eyes shot up. “How can you have a girlfriend if your dick is shriveled up?”

  I clenched my fists into two tight balls before forcing myself to sign. “You want to fight?”

  Tanner grinned. “It’s true? You do still have a penis?”

  “You finished?” I signed one-handed, sharp and intent, the tension settling into my rigid fingers.

  “Fine.” Tanner’s shoulders sagged. “I’m just happy you’re finally having sex again.”

  Val shook her head. “Have you met him?” she asked Tanner.

  “Since high school, sweetheart.”

  “Then you know the answer to that.”

  I rubbed the kink in my neck. “Are we finished with my love life?”

  “No,” Willow signed with both hands for added effect.

  “Two years.” Tanner banged his head on the table. “Fuck her already.”

  My jaw ached as I ground my back teeth. Fucking asshole.

  “Wow,” Val signed, one hand on Tanner’s arm. “She’s different.”

  Tanner leaned back in his chair, not giving a damn his neck and my hands were about to meet. “Good. Have sex.”

  I rammed my clenched fists on the table. Judging by the looks I got from our neighbors, I rammed too loud. “Enough. Is your own sex life that lacking?” I locked eyes with Tanner.

  Willow laughed. “Shit.” She looked at Val. “We’re the only ones getting any.”

  Tanner took a swig of his beer.

  I relaxed my hands. “Well, what do we have here? Man with big mouth talks a lot but says nothing.”

  “Blow me.”

  “You wish.”

  “Poor men,” Willow signed in both our directions, shaking her head. “Your lives are just so . . . dry.” She elongated the sign with one hand, while the othe
r brought her drink to her lips.

  Tanner scowled. I leaned back, thought of Carli. After two years in the desert, life didn’t feel dry. It was rich, full of ferns, trees, and waterfalls. And a beautiful woman with amber eyes.

  “Why are you waiting this time?” Val asked, all good humor vacant from her face.

  Life. Experiences. Habit. Yet my hands didn’t move. I stared into her brown eyes, conveying things only a lifelong friend could process.

  “Can you do it? Can you drop the act and just be yourself?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Myself is a horny bastard?”

  Willow and Tanner doubled over in laughter.

  Val did not. “I understand why you’re so cautious—really, I do. I was there; you’d be foolish not to be cautious. But I see the passion in you. And I see that flame burning for her.” She paused, took a sip of her beer. “No, I take that back. Let me meet her. I didn’t screen Beth well enough.”

  “Val,” I caught Willow hissing her name from across the table. The two broke into an English-only conversation. Tanner flicked at his hearing aids in a move that could mean only one thing—he adjusted his volume to listen.

  My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out of my pocket.

  Carli: I need to attend a deaf event. Since I happen to know a deaf guy, I figured this shouldn’t be too hard . . .

  You could come here right now and listen to my roommate fight with her girlfriend over why we haven’t had sex yet. On second thought, scratch that with a heavy red pen.

  Me: Not sure hanging out with me is going to match the assignment.

  I put my phone down on the table. Val and Willow were still talking, but Tanner readjusted his hearing aids. “They finished?” I asked.

  “New topic. I’m not interested.”

  My phone buzzed. Carli sent a picture with details on an assignment to attend a Deaf event. At the bottom, Gina had handwritten that hanging out with me and my friends would work.

  Thrown under the bus. And liking it.

  Me: Well, I better not let you down. I’ll see what I can work out. I still need to introduce you to more people like you.

  Carli: Don’t you mean us?

  Her words warmed me from the inside out. I did nothing to prevent the silly grin.

  Me: :-) Good girl. But no, I mean you: Hard of Hearing, wears hearing aids, and can communicate in spoken English. Stay tuned. According to Gina I have two weeks to pull something together . . .

  I put my phone down, and three pairs of eyes stared at me.

  I locked eyes with Val. “Wanna have a party next Saturday?”

  “Why?” Val elongated the sign straight down to the table.

  “You wanted to meet C-A-R-L-I, right?”

  “Yes,” she signed slowly, not trusting me.

  With a sigh, I loaded the picture of her assignment and turned it around.

  Willow threw her hands up in the air in a silent wave. “Matchmaker Gina. Love it!”

  “You want to plan a party in a little over a week?” Val asked.

  “You can screen C-A-R-L-I.”

  “But food, beer, cleaning.”

  Tanner slapped the table. “B-Y-O-B. Make lover boy clean. Done. Party. I’m in.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Leave her alone.”

  He raised his hands in surrender and rocked his chair back.

  “Come on,” Willow signed to Val, eyes darting to me and my not-so-typical behavior.

  “Fine.” She ran a hand through her hair as Willow and Tanner Deaf clapped. “I have one requirement.” She leaned forward and locked eyes with mine. “Let go of the past.”

  I mimed cutting the cord. Willow and Tanner began a new conversation, but Val continued staring at me. The message was clear. She wanted me to cut the cord for Carli, not her. To let go of everything that had held me back.

  I didn’t know if I could. How does one wake up one day and change 180 degrees? It didn’t happen that way. The key here? I wanted to try. For Carli.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Carli

  SATURDAY, I TOOK the Red Line into Cambridge then caught a bus to take me one town over. Social media entertained me during the long trip. I even took a few quizzes to pass the time—my Disney soul mate is Tarzan. Not sure how I feel about that one. Once I got off the bus, I smoothed down my skater skirt over my leggings. I stretched up onto my toes, my ballet flats allowing me ample movement. The cold breeze caused me to shiver, but I also sweated due to nerves. What had I gotten myself into?

  I clutched my bag to my shoulder as I walked the streets of Somerville. I crossed another busy intersection and saw a house up ahead with gray chipped siding and a lot of cars out front. Panicked through and through, I thought of canceling on Reed and taking the long trip back home. But my legs propelled me forward.

  I traveled down the cracked asphalt driveway and climbed to the second floor to Reed’s apartment. The door to the kitchen stood open. People milled about. Sounds filtered through the storm door. Hands moved in animated chatter. Unlike the parties I usually attended, no music played.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and was about to text Reed when someone waved me in. The screen squeaked as I opened it, and voices crowded my ears. I still couldn’t pick out a single word, but without the heavy bass I at least stood a chance.

  A pretty woman with short curly hair and golden brown skin waved me in and smiled at me. “Are you Carli?” she asked, hands moving along with her voice.

  “Yes,” I managed in both languages.

  Her smile grew. “I’m Val, Reed’s roommate. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand when she finished signing and shook mine. Years of uncomfortable-social-interaction training allowed me not to flip out, at least on the outside. On the inside I was a monkey rattling her cage and flinging her poop. Why hadn’t Reed mentioned his roommate was female? Was that the reason he held back? Were they an item? Oh God, was this destined to be the most awkward handshake in history?

  “How did you know it was me?” I asked. There, I managed a neutral response.

  She laughed. “For starters? The scared-shitless look. I remember my first ASL gathering. Feel free to kick Reed’s ass over this. Second, you’re exactly as he described you.”

  I glanced down at my attire before looking back up. Was that good or bad? And then it clicked. She introduced herself as his roommate, not his girlfriend. The man could just have a platonic female roommate, right?

  Movement behind Val caught my attention. Reed. Worn jeans hugged his legs, and a black tee shirt with some white writing over one pec emphasized his broad shoulders. His hair was messy, and a day’s worth of stubble lined his face. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him as the butterflies in my stomach flapped in anticipation.

  “Hi. You OK?” he asked as he came over, smile firmly on his lips.

  I nodded.

  He signed something. I caught the word house but nothing else.

  “Sorry.” Was it too late to text him I couldn’t make it?

  Val poked Reed in the arm. “Be nice to the poor girl. Did you find the house without any problems? Which you obviously did since you’re here.” Again, she spoke and signed like it was completely natural.

  I didn’t know the signs for what I wanted to say, so I spoke them to Val. “The directions were fine. No problems.” I waited for her to explain what I said to Reed, but she didn’t. I shifted and rubbed my toe into the tiled floor. “Um, I don’t know the signs for that. Do you mind signing them for me?” This really wasn’t going to work. I still wasn’t sure of her connection to Reed, and I needed her to help us communicate.

  Val grinned. “I’m sure he pays enough attention to your lips that he should be able to lip-read you by now.”

  Reed poked Val in the side and signed something fast and forceful to her. Above his dark stubble his cheeks pinked, which made my own uneasiness subside. Okay, Val was not his girlfriend. The whole interaction screamed embarrassment, not groveling.

  Val laughe
d and walked off.

  Reed shook his head and turned back to me. “Thank you . . . ” He signed something else that seemed like he was thanking me for being there.

  “No, thank you.” After all, this was for my benefit, right?

  I got lost in his face, in his smile, until he reached forward, wrapped a hand around my waist, and pulled me in for a quick, scorching kiss. I managed to grasp onto his shoulders for balance, just as he set me back on my own two feet.

  He motioned for me to hand over my coat, which I did, only to find him looking me up and down like I was going to be his dinner.

  He put his hand to his chest, thumb touching his body, fingers wiggling. I had no idea what it meant, but his facial expression told me it was a compliment. Worked for me.

  I followed him farther into the room. The kitchen opened up to a casual living area. A beige couch lined one wall, with other chairs dotted around for the party. The indents on the multicolored rug indicated a coffee table normally balanced the room. The couch and most of the chairs were occupied. People even sat on the floor instead of standing. Around me the place was . . . loud. Not sound level, though there was a fair amount of speaking. But hands moved. Everywhere. People laughed, loudly. Some people even made non-English noises as they signed. Reed pointed to a girl with long brown hair braided over one shoulder who sat cross-legged on the wood floor. She looked up and smiled as we approached.

  Reed signed something quickly to the female then turned to me. He pointed to her. “Name W-I-L-L-O-W,” he signed slowly, letting me catch up to each letter before pointing to her again and signing the letter H twice.

  I shook my head, not following him.

  He pointed to his ear, then to Willow. She perked up, cupped her hand under her ears, and turned her head. “Like my new hearing aid molds? I went for pink this time.” Her voice sounded normal to me, but I looked at her ears, and sure enough, she had behind-the-ear hearing aids with pink molds.

  Reed leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my temple. He signed something followed by “fun,” and then left us alone.