Page 5 of Kiss-Fist (Deaf Hearts #1)

CHAPTER THREE

ROBBIE

From the smirk on Rhett’s face, I know he put my coffee that far away on purpose.

From the second he noticed my arms shaking this morning, he’s been subtly giving me hell.

He’s sneaky like that. Plus, he’s a regular at the gym, thanks to his boyfriend, so there’s a good chance he knows all about those four-pound weights and what they did to me.

And the elliptical.

And the boner I popped that Thom most definitely saw.

Rhett knows damn well my policy about hearing guys, no matter how good-looking they are and how good they would probably be in bed. So yeah. I’m not living this down.

‘Don’t,’ I order as I reach for the mug, doing my best to hide my pain. I’m not good at it, of course. Fifty percent of my language is on the face, and I don’t think I could hide my expression even if I were paid to do it.

He shakes his head as he sinks into the chair across from my desk and rests the side of his foot against the edge.

If I had the strength or the will, I’d knock his leg down, but I don’t.

It’s enough for me to lift the coffee to my lips and drink down the sweet, sweet caffeine my body desperately needs.

I’m not saying I didn’t sleep well. But I’m also not denying that I woke up at three in the morning, aching like I had the flu. I should have called in sick.

‘It gets better,’ Rhett finally says once he has my attention again. ‘I promise.’

I don’t believe him. ‘I think I’m good. I’m strong now. Gym life isn’t for me.’

He rolls his eyes and drops his leg, leaning over his thighs. ‘Trust. It gets better,’ he signs again.

Why the hell does he even care? It’s not like he’ll be out of a job if I have a heart attack. The college has been courting more Deaf professors in various fields now that they see how actually successful and educated we are in our area of study. And other colleges are starting to take notice.

I highly doubt it’s going to create a movement, but I’m willing to bet some of my retirement that it will make a little difference, which means people like Rhett will always be in demand.

‘Just give it a chance.’

‘You just want someone to go with you who isn’t Mellie,’ I argue.

Rhett pouts. ‘Have you seen his arms?’ He puffs out his cheeks and begins describing them in detail. Even works his way down to his abdomen and describes his six-pack.

I let him continue for some time, enjoying the way he manages to use classifiers to describe the human form. He really is very talented. As annoyed as I am with him in this moment, I can admit that. His signs are like butter.

When he’s finally done, his cheeks slightly flushed, I arch an eyebrow. ‘Are you turned on right now?’

‘Maybe.’

A laugh leaves my mouth, and I add, ‘I’m not going to embarrass myself just to make you feel better about standing next to your boyfriend. I don’t like you that much.’

He flips me off. ‘That’s not what I meant,’ he lies.

‘Maybe you should stop being an interpreter and be a professional bullshitter.’

He pouts, his lip jutting out, his big eyes blinking up at me.

It only makes me laugh harder.

‘Your puppy eyes don’t work on me. My dick doesn’t want you.’ Ain’t that the truth. The traitor in my pants wants a guy who checks every box on my hell-no list. Well, okay. Not every box. He checks quite a few hell-yes boxes, but he’s also a deal breaker.

Honestly, why can’t I find a nice, hot, adorable, dimpled Deaf guy with shitty spelling who speaks my language and doesn’t mind that I’m a disaster in the gym? Is it really such a big ask?

Rhett knocks on the desk, and I look up when I feel the vibration under my palm. ‘Door.’

Crap. It’s not technically my office hours, but if the light is on, I’m free game. Should have turned it off and hidden in the dark like a goblin.

I gesture for Rhett to grab it, and he flips me off again. He’s not on the clock, but we have an understanding, and he’ll tell me if he minds doing a little extra work.

He’s minded a lot less now that he’s getting regularly dicked down. There’s more pep in his step, and I kind of hate him for it. Last night, I typed half a text to Rome, propositioning him since he did leave the door open, but I couldn’t bring myself to send it.

No, instead, I abandoned the thread, then stood in the shower under the hot water and pictured Thom and his terrible yet sexy man-tits and the way he could make them bounce with the slightest tug on his pectorals. I came so hard I saw stars, painting the shower wall with my cum.

It didn’t slide down the drain like it was supposed to. There was so much of it.

I forced myself to clean it off as a punishment for lusting after the one man I won’t let myself have. When I was done, I once again stared at Rome’s name until my eyeballs hurt before saying screw it and falling asleep with the letters of Thom’s name ghosting across my fingers.

This is going to be a problem. But it’s a problem for future Robbie. Present Robbie is now staring at one of my students from Thursday’s World History Before 1500 class. I don’t know her name, but it usually takes me a while to get most of them—and I only ever retain the ones who give a shit.

Or the ones who make a really bad impression.

This one, well, I have no clue who this is, so she falls in neutral territory.

I peer up and see that she looks nervous to step into my office. They always do, of course. Some of them have never met a Deaf person before. They don’t even know how to begin to communicate.

She looks at Rhett and begins talking. He shakes his head and tells her to speak to me. Her cheeks flame, and I can see her stammering. When she turns to face me, he suppresses an eye roll.

Yeah. I feel him.

‘Have a seat,’ I tell her, not bothering to look back at him. I know he’s interpreting. ‘What’s up?’

She sits down and sets her backpack on her legs and then onto the floor when she realizes it’s hindering her ability to sign.

Oh god, wait, she’s going to sign.

‘My have question.’ Her hands shake when she does this, and my heart goes out to her, just a little.

I get that it’s nerve-racking, having to talk to someone who doesn’t know your language, and I know that Deaf culture, ASL in particular, is different.

It seems to make people even more anxious when trying to communicate.

My eyes move over to Rhett, and I see him sign and speak at the same time.

‘I’ll sign for you so you don’t have to.’

“Oh, okay.”

She sighs in visible relief and then begins to speak, my eyes moving from her to Rhett as I figure out what she needs. As I answer her questions, one by one, I find that she’s not the worst student I’ve ever had and actually has potential.

I’ll probably even remember her name in the future.

When she finally leaves the office, my arms are throbbing, and so are my shoulders .

‘You need to stretch after a workout. Next time, don’t just run away like a baby,’ Rhett tells me, and I glower at him.

‘I almost died. Understand? I had to leave.’

I do not mention my hard dick and the very untimely way I got an erection.

That makes Rhett giggle, his hand landing on his stomach as his lips curl up. ‘I doubt that. You’re just lazy and need to work out more often. Start slow.’

‘I did, and it was too much. My heart wasn’t made for this.’

That makes Rhett laugh even more, his eyes starting to water. I reach my foot out and kick him roughly. He gasps, his mouth falling open.

‘That’s not nice.’

‘Stop it,’ I sign with a flick of my wrist. It’s a larger sign, casual, but I know by the end of his ribbing, it will be curt and quick, signaling how annoyed I am. Not that he cares. He’s known me long enough to give zero shits.

‘You can’t quit. You need to go back to the gym today and work out to make your muscles less tense. Do some kind of recovery walk or something. Or maybe a yoga class?’

I’m definitely not a yoga fan, but while I’ve never heard of a recovery walk in my life, I debate that one. It has nothing to do with wanting to go see Thom and his sexy man muscles bunching and flexing as he moves.

‘I don’t think I will. I’d rather die. Just bury me with a lovely headstone.’

That only makes Rhett laugh again, and as if on cue, that sign gets clipped and fast. But then I expected nothing less when it comes to my best friend and coworker. He lives to torment me.

I don’t think too hard on why I’m back at the gym after work. If I did, I’d be slapping myself silly. As I drove here, I told myself that I was only here to inquire about the recovery walk that Rhett mentioned, and it had nothing to do with Thom.

Or how frantic my dick has been to see him.

It hasn’t helped that I had to masturbate before driving here. It was a desperate, ugly jack-off session in the men’s toilets before I left. I’ve never felt dirtier in my entire life, but my self-preservation depended on it. My ego and pride as well.

I refused to pop another boner in the gym with that hearing man.

Thom .

A silly name for a silly man with silly muscles and a silly crotch.

Yes. I shall think of him no longer.

He probably isn’t even here. I bet he has a life outside of this. I bet he’s not even into men and is straight as an arrow. I bet he hasn’t even thought of me at all.

Just as that thought crosses my mind, Thom rounds a corner, wearing the same damn thing he was yesterday. Backward cap, thin nipple-showing shirt, and shorts that are dry today but far too tight. His ass looks like a literal peach, which is completely unfair.

I swallow as his eyes slam into mine, a grin forming on his face, those dimples popping out. His hand flicks up, and he waves, moving toward me hurriedly.

I stumble back, already feeling the twitch between my legs.

Mayday! Abort!

Oh my god, he’s so close. I can see those dark lashes up close. I can smell the soap from his shower lingering on his skin. His hand is touching me, sliding down my hip, making my dick leak.

I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe .