Page 79 of Quiet Longing

I also noticed they were speaking in sign language, and a memory came back to me. During our few weeks together, Rhys had mentioned a cousin who was mute and that he’d learned sign language to be able to converse with him. Surely, this was the guy, especially considering the resemblance between them. What was his name again? Shane? Shay? Yes, that was it. Shay. Wow, I was impressed I could recall the detail.

Rhys wore a dark suit, and I grew flustered at the sight of him all professional and in work mode. I wasn’t exactly feeling confident enough to approach him, but I also knew if I triedto scoot by unnoticed, and he saw me, that would be far more embarrassing.

Catching his eye as I approached, I gave a little wave.

“Hi, Rhys,” I greeted politely then glanced at the man he’d been talking to, mustering some of the old sign language I’d learned when I’d worked with Jerry Devlin. He was my boss and had gone deaf from a hereditary condition, his hearing slowly worsening after several years. Many of us in the office had learned some basic sign language so the business could run smoothly. But he’d also been an incredible boss, and we were all happy to accommodate him.

And you must be Shay, I signed.I’m Charli. Rhys and I are old friends.

Rhys’ cousin blinked in surprise before he smiled at me, and wow, he was incredibly handsome. There was a warm, gentle look in his eyes that was so much like Rhys’.

Hi, Charli, he signed back, and then I was aware of a warm hand on my shoulder. I looked up at Rhys. He seemed surprised I’d remembered his cousin, and I felt embarrassed like I was some obsessive stalker who’d catalogued every little thing he’d told me that summer.

“When did you learn sign language?” Rhys asked, curious, the heat of his hand burning through the fabric of my cardigan before he lowered it.

“Oh, well, I only know a little. I had a boss who was deaf, so I learned some, but that was years ago.”

Shay signed something to Rhys, but I didn’t recognise what he’d said. Rhys turned back to me. “You used American Sign Language. It’s different from what Shay and I use.”

I gently slapped my forehead. “Right, you guys have Irish Sign Language.”

“Shay still caught your drift,” Rhys answered fondly. “He says it’s great to meet you.”

I glanced back at Shay. “It’s great to meet you, too. Do you work here as well?”

“Shay’s a member of my security team,” Rhys answered for him. “Speaking of which, you better get up to floor seventeen and deal with that incident.”

Shay nodded, shot me a parting smile then left. I brought my attention back to Rhys, raising an eyebrow. “What happened on floor seventeen?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he tapped the side of his nose. “That’s need to know only, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, come on. I work here now. Surely, I can be made privy to a little hotel gossip.”

Rhys exhaled, taking a moment to look me over. I was aware of his gaze travelling down my outfit, and I squirmed a little under his keen attention. “A group of twenty-somethings trashed one of the suites. I sent Shay to deal with the guy who booked the room. He’s arguing with one of the managers about clean-up charges, and having Shay there will discourage him from causing further drama.”

I gaped at him. “That’s awful. Does stuff like that happen often?”

“You’d be surprised. How’s your first day been so far?” His gaze trailed along the wavy ends of my hair then back to my face, and my skin warmed everywhere his eyes travelled.

“It’s been great. Barry and Maeve seem nice, and—”

Before I could finish the sentence, Rhys’s arm swept around my waist, and he pulled me inside his office. I caught a quick flash of two people walking towards us from the far end of the corridor—Stephanie and Maeve returning from lunch—before the door closed behind us. My breathing quickened as panic set in. The way he’d grabbed me awakened some kind of PTSD response because I was suddenly hyperventilating. My chest constricted with shortness of breath, like a rubber bandwas tightening around my lungs, squeezing tighter and tighter. I grew light headed, my vision spotty as I shoved away from Rhys and moved to the other side of the small office.

I couldn’tbreathe.

There was a chair in front of his desk, and I sat down on it, pulling at the buttons on my shirt, feeling suffocated as I tried to get some air into my lungs. I wasn’t sure how many buttons I’d undone when I finally managed to regulate my breathing. Then, the silence in the room felt deafening as I lifted my gaze to Rhys. He was staring at me in alarm, standing stock still over by the door.

“Charli,” he spoke softly, quietly. “Are you okay?”

“W-why did you do that?” I demanded, willing my pulse to slow down. “Why did you g-grab me?”

His endlessly blue eyes stared at me, and I felt like crying. I’d been doing so well all day, meeting my new colleagues, making work friends. It had felt like progress, and now … Now I was a hyperventilating mess sweating though my shirt. I could see Rhys’ thoughts scrambling to make sense of my reaction. Panic set in once more as I feared him seeing too much of the truth, figuring stuff out about me.

I had to get a hold of myself.

This was only Rhys. He wouldn’t judge me. Knowing his past, I was pretty sure Rhys was the last person to ever think less of me because of what I’d been through. He motioned to the space in front of me. “Is it okay if I come over?”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. Rhys came and knelt before me while maintaining a little distance. His eyes caught mine, then flicked down a moment, and I suddenly realised my shirt was spread open, revealing the top of my silky white bra. Eyes flaring, I scrambled to redo the buttons, my skin heating at the flicker of interest in Rhys’ gaze when he looked, there and gone in an instant.

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