Page 194

He laughs and shakes his head. ‘Let me guess? The main acts always started to talk to you?’

The old trauma pings around my chest. ‘The night Salem snapped was at a comedy club. The opening acts didn’t pay any attention to us, but the headliner did. He spent twenty minutes making us sign the most vulgar swear words and laughing about it.’

Mellie grimaces. ‘No one told them you’re not part of the show?’

‘Someone told him after. But Salem was so stressed-out he quit that night. His parents were angry. He’s CODA,’ I add. ‘They wanted him to stay in the community and give back.’

Mellie wrinkles his nose. ‘Not a CODA’s job to interpret.’

‘They’re old. Very old,’ I emphasize. They’re the last vestiges of Martha’s Vineyard Deaf community old. He was their miracle, late-in-life baby. But I’m going to dump all that on Mellie. ‘He’s doing well now. He has his farm. And I got this job.’

He tilts his head to the side and studies me. ‘Are you CODA?’

I shake my head. ‘I have a Deaf cousin who moved in with us when I was four, so I started learning then. When I got to college, I started studying history, and I was doing my minor in Deaf studies for the easy GPA boost. But then I realized it was something that made sense. Interpreting,’ I add to make sure he’s following what I mean by that. ‘I changed majors, and here we are.’

He glances away for a beat, then says, ‘I’m not smart like that.’

I want to disagree, but I don’t know him well enough for that yet, so I tuck away my argument for later when I do. Instead, I say, ‘You’re very talented.’

His ears flush again, and he licks his lips. ‘Hungry?’ Oh, but he doesn’t sign hungry. Or, well, he does, but it’s a different kind of hungry.

My dick twitches in my pants.

‘We should eat first.’

‘I can make us something better than this at home.’

The implications are…a lot. And yeah, I want it. ‘Will your cousin be angry?’

There’s fire in his eyes again. ‘Do you care?’

Not one little bit.

ChapterSix

Mellie

Ican’t stop looking in the rearview mirror to be sure he’s still behind me. It’s not making me the safest driver, but luckily, we live in a small town with no major universities or tech industries, so the streets are dead by eight.

And I can relax because he’s there. He’s still there.

He was entirely unbothered by my throwing a twenty down on the table for wasting Fern’s time and taking up space in his section, then dragging him out the front doors and all but shoving him at his car. But I was desperate, damn it. I’m still desperate. The taste of his kiss is on my lips, and it’s all I can do to keep myself chill.

What I want is to rip his clothes off, drop to my knees, and choke on his dick. But I also don’t want to scare him off. God, I should have rubbed one out before I went on the damn date, but I’d been too nervous to get it up. Now, I’m going to shoot off like some hormonal teenager and embarrass myself.

Taking a deep breath, I focus back on the road, and I stay aware of the light behind me as I finally pull onto my street and into my driveway. It fits two cars comfortably, but Rhett pulls to the front of the house instead, and I don’t bother correcting him. We don’t need to waste time on reparking.

My fingers are tingling, itching to touch his bare skin, and though I haven’t eaten since the afternoon, I can’t feel anything but a soul-deep hunger for his body.

The lights on the street are dim, and he’s barely a shadow as he approaches. I can feel the heat coming off his body. He hesitates, then reaches for me. His fingertips graze my jaw, trailing up toward my ear, then down my neck.

I feel a groan ragged against the back of my throat, and in the shadows, I see his mouth lift into a small grin.

“Hi,” I say aloud.

He startles, and I realize he’s probably never heard me speak before. I don’t do it often. At least, not consciously. I know I make a lot of noise when I sign. I vocalize words just because I’ve always been kind of a loud guy in all ways it’s possible to be loud.

It’s probably one of the reasons I haven’t dated hearing guys before now: they get weirded out by it. Only Rhett doesn’t take a step back. He doesn’t stiffen. He doesn’t stare at me like I’m some sideshow freak.