Page 36 of Kiss-Fist (Deaf Hearts #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY

THOM

I have a boyfriend.

Fucking hell. I have a boyfriend ! A hot, nerdy, sexy-as-fuck boyfriend who can play my body like a goddamn fiddle. Or…some other instrument sexier than a fiddle. Like maybe a guitar or a cello. Whatever, don’t care.

Because I have a boyfriend!

My spin class is paying for it dearly this morning.

One of my regulars even swore when she saw how happy I was, but my light will not be dimmed.

My ass aches from the deep dicking he gave me in the shower that morning, his cock tunneling into me as I bent over and took it.

But even while sitting on this tiny bike seat, I feel no regrets.

Even if it’s hard to sit down.

“Alright!” I say after the sixth hill. “Let’s take it down to a gentle glide.”

There’s a collective sigh around the room as I switch the music to something better suited for the countryside. I can see Dianne on her usual bike, glaring at me. She flips me off, and I grin. Yeah, I’m about to hear about this from a few more regulars, but I don’t care.

I barely feel the burn because I have a boyfriend !

Really glad this is internal monologue because Dex is going to kill me once my mouth gets going.

I haven’t seen him yet, but I’m bursting to tell literally every single person I know.

I’ve already texted Isaac, who sent me a video text of him miming dick-sucking.

Then I texted Zev because I’m excited for him to come back so I can show off my new ASL skills.

He sent me a GIF of Deaf applause.

Then I had a mini panic attack because what if Robbie isn’t ready for everyone to know? I’ll just have to beg for his forgiveness. On my knees. All night.

That should work.

I wipe sweat off my brow, which is not from the cycling, and eventually finish the cooldown. I stop my bike as everyone gets off theirs, and I see half a dozen wobbly legs.

Whoops.

As predicted, Dianne marches over and folds one arm over her chest, the other swings back, and she punches me in the arm. Hard.

“Ow.”

She narrows her eyes and moves to do it again, but this time, I dodge her. “What the fuck, Thom! Did you double dose your Adderall?”

“That would have made me want to nap,” I tell her. “I’m just happy.”

She stares. She’s been taking my class for two years now, and she knows me a little too well. “Oh. I know what this is. You got some.” She pauses, then grabs the handle on my bike and leans in. “No. That’s not it. You’re in love.”

Shit. Is it love? I mean…no. But also, maybe yes?

I gulp.

“It’s about time. I’ll forgive you just this once, Thom. Do you hear me? Just. This. Once.” She waggles her eyebrows at me before walking off without letting me answer, and I lean back, groping for my water bottle, then my phone. There’s a text from Robbie waiting for me.

Robbie: Good morning now I’m more awake. You have good class, ok?

I love Deaf texts. When Robbie’s not in teacher mode, he drops most of his articles and keeps his sentences dyslexia-friendly.

I send him a thumbs-up, then some hearts, then a kissy face, then an eggplant, then a peach. I stop myself before I can get too out of control.

I get an eye-roll GIF back.

Okay. Yeah. I might love him a little. Maybe a lot. I stare down at my hand and drop my middle and ring finger against my palm. It’s a sign I’ve known for years—it’s probably one of the signs most hearing people already know.

I love you.

I try to imagine his face if I were to sign it to him. I can picture about two hundred different scenarios, and most of them end with him being freaked out that I’m saying that shit this early .

I ball my hand into a fist and stare at it. “Do not,” I warn my fingers. “Do not ruin this for me. We have time.”

Shaking out my hands, I climb off the bike and grab the bottle of sanitizer, quickly attacking the room so it’s ready to go for Dex’s evening class. I’m sweating a bit more by the time I’m done, but that’s fine.

I’m free floating for the rest of my shift apart from doing the gym requisition forms for our protein shake mixes and submitting a handful of payments Dex left me on the desk. I don’t know why he’s always shoving paperwork at me.

He knows I can’t read for shit.

Lazy fucker.

I dart into the showers and rinse off before changing into a fresh set of Lycra shorts and a muscle shirt, and then I wander out and find Dex waving me over. I fall into a quick jog.

I can’t wait to tell him.

“Holy fuck, guess what! I have a boyf?—”

“Bro. You have a new client. He’s Deaf. I figured you wouldn’t mind since you’re further along with ASL than I am,” he says, then waves his hand to the left.

I turn my head, and my heart literally drops to my feet. There’s not a chance in hell I will ever not recognize that face. The dark hair, the dark eyes, the arrogant smirk.

Rome’s standing there in a very tight tank top and grey sweats that hug every curve and leave nothing to the imagination. He cocks a brow at me, his head tilted to the side.

I turn back to Dex, panic racing through my veins. “I can’t.”

Dex stares at me, then looks over at Rome and signs, ‘ Sorry, wait.’ At least he’s picking up gym-appropriate vocab from the app. He turns back to me. “What the fuck?”

“I can’t. That’s…” Oh god, I can’t tell him I had a jealous meltdown over Robbie’s hookup at a drag show the night before.

And I’m a little creeped out that he’s here.

Like…what the fuck is he doing? Is he a jealous stalker?

Is he going to end up chopping me up and putting me in the dumpster out back?

“What is it?” Dex presses when I don’t say anything.

I take a deep breath. If I do this—if I refuse to take Rome as a client—he wins. He’ll go back to Robbie and tell him what a pathetic, sorry loser I am who can’t face his boyfriend’s past. And that’s not the kind of man I am.

I’m a strong, independent gay man, damn it.

I own a business. Well, I own half a business. I have my own place. I pay all my bills on time. I’m learning a new fucking language. And I have a boyfriend.

I have Robbie.

He’s mine. He said so last night. More than once, coming with my name on his lips, not Rome’s.

I nod and take a deep breath, then turn back around. ‘How can I help you?’

Just like last night, Rome’s hands fly through signs, and my brain isn’t fast enough to catch them all. There are a few I recognize, but my brain can’t order them correctly into sentences.

‘Sorry,’ I sign. ‘Please slow down.’

His eyes narrow. ‘How does Robbie deal with you.’

I don’t understand every single one of those signs, but I understand enough to fill in the rest with context. I blow a puff of air out and shrug. ‘He likes me.’

Rome snorts and rolls his eyes. ‘Sure.’ His sarcasm is dripping from his face and hands, the slow drag of his finger up and over his lips. He knows what he’s conveying with that.

‘Is there anyone else who knows ASL? The website said you had a Deaf trainer.’

My shoulders sag in mild relief. Okay. So maybe he didn’t stalk me. I was getting a little crazy with that. We do have Zev advertised on our website. And that’s a reminder that Dex needs to go in and take it down until he gets back from leave.

‘Zev,’ I sign.

Rome’s eyebrows fly up, and I see recognition on his face. He uses Zev’s sign name, and I nod. His face falls. He very clearly knows what happened and why Zev is gone.

‘I don’t know when he’ll be back.’

Rome taps his foot impatiently, darts a look at the door, and then his gaze returns to me. He smirks. Shit. ‘Ok. You.’

I point at myself, and he nods. ‘My ASL slow.’

He laughs, and the sound is not as kind or as sweet as Robbie’s.

‘Obvious. Baby signs.’ He mimics sucking his thumb, and my chest aches with offense.

Yes, I might have the vocabulary of a one-year-old, but that doesn’t mean that’s going to last forever.

If I could magic the language in my head to make Robbie’s life easier, I would. But this is all I can do.

‘How can I help you?’ I repeat. I will not rise to the bait. I will not rise to the bait. I will not. I will not. I will not .

‘Personal trainer,’ he spells at lightning speed. The only reason I recognize all the letters put together like that is because I’ve spent hours practicing them since that’s my literal job.

I nod and point to myself and sign, ‘That me.’

He looks instantly annoyed, and I kind of love it.

Taking a single step back, I circle him, giving a little more thorough of an assessment than I usually do new clients. I see him shift uncomfortably under my stare, but he’s obviously playing chicken with me now, and I can tell he’s not going to flinch first.

‘Ok,’ I sign. He lifts his brows. ‘You need to focus on your glutes, abs, and rhomboids.’ I spell that word slowly, then tap the major and minor spots on his back.

His cheeks darken, and he wrenches away from my touch. It’s obvious he expected me to find him without flaw.

Rome says nothing though, so I jerk my head for him to follow, and I take him to the mirrors and lay out a mat. I inspect the free weights and then point down. ‘Time to warm up. We’ll go slow.’

His jaw ticks with irritation, and he signs nothing at all as he sinks down and begins to follow me through the set of gentle stretches.

It’s the moment I think that Rome’s actually going to play nice that he turns it all around on me. We’ve gone through several sets of weights, an ab workout, and then fifteen minutes of cardio on the treadmill, all with total silence from him.

He just nods and does what I tell him to do, and it’s obvious he’s not a stranger to the gym because his heart rate is amazing, and he’s barely broken a sweat. He chugs his electrolytes like he’s posing for a fucking Gatorade ad—his head tipped back, eyes closed, throat bobbing.

I hate that I can see what Robbie saw in him. He’s offensively good-looking, and when he smiles, it lights up his whole face. Even if he’s trying to be mean.

But I do start to relax because it really does seem like he’s here to work out. And then, halfway through his cooldown on the weight bench, he leans toward me and waves his hand to get my attention.

‘Robbie deserves better.’ He signs and mouths the words slowly.

I blink at him. ‘I’m a good guy.’

He shrugs and shakes his head. ‘You’re hearing. You can’t even speak his language.’

‘I’m learning.’ I’m so angry I smack myself in the forehead with the force of my motion.

He scoffs, then clears his throat and surprises the fuck out of me by speaking aloud.

His accent isn’t as thick as Robbie’s. “You will always be behind him. He will always have to dumb himself down to make sure you’re included.

Even if you spend a lifetime learning, you’ll always have a shitty hearing accent in your signs.

It’ll never look natural.” He pauses, then lifts his hands.

‘You will always be a compromise.’ He spells that last word, and when my brain processes it, it’s like a knife to the gut .

Because he’s right. I will be. I will never be as good or as fluent as Robbie is in his natural language.

If he wants to spell, he’ll always have to take his time because even in ASL, my dyslexic brain doesn’t follow along like other people.

He’ll always have to check in and make sure that I’m not lost.

I don’t know what to say. Robbie likes me. He chose me. He went out of his way to show me that last night. He was angry at Rome for being a dick. He was worried that I was going to leave him.

He’s…happy, right? It’s not like he doesn’t have other ridiculously hot options for his dating life.

So yeah. He wants me. Rome might have shaken me, but he’s not going to win this.

‘I think you should talk to Robbie.’

He smirks and stands up, swiping his palms on his sweats before he lifts them to sign, ‘Trust. I plan to. I’m going to remind him exactly what he’s always wanted.

’ He hesitates before walking away, turning back to face me fully.

‘You seem like a good guy, but you’re not right for him. You don’t belong.’

My heart sinks. I don’t know what to say, so my hands hang by my sides. Rome looks almost sorry. Then, like he didn’t just try to shatter my whole fucking world, he turns on his heel and leaves.