Page 45 of Touch In Excess

“Definitely. I know how hard it is out here doing the kind of stuff we do. There are good eggs, but they’re surrounded by a lot of rotten.”

“You’re a good dude. I hope you and yourfriendwork out.”

Skye felt a rush of something—yearning, maybe—and he held on to it. “I do too. Thanks again, and maybe we’ll talk soon.”

“You opened this floodgate, man. Enjoy my texts,” Pierce warned, waving the card.

A small part of Skye said that he should be worried, but a bigger part of him had a feeling that Pierce was going to be important in the future. And considering he didn’t make friends easily, he tended to cling on to people when he found them.

He was lighter in his steps and in his chest as he left the shop, and there really was renewed hope settling on his shoulders as he left to find Flint.

Not only had Skye not been given any instructions on what to buy, but he also hadn’t been given any instructions on how to deliver the gift. The chat in the live said he would receive an email, but that hadn’t happened apart from his bid receipt. He’d gotten the video chat, but Rami hadn’t mentioned it on there, nor had he said anything over text.

So, Skye showed up with the box wrapped tightly in the plastic bag, tucked under his arm, and his heart in his throat. He’d taken his hearing aids out—something he had a feeling would become a habit since he could exist in Rami’s space without having to struggle with hearing or the fatigue that came with his brain trying to understand fading sounds around him.

Rami was slowly, bit by bit, becoming more of a safe space for him, and he wasn’t sure what to do with that. Mostly because if he lost it, it would be gutting. He wasn’t really a catastrophizer by nature, but he also hadn’t really had this much to lose before.

He shifted from one foot to the other before knocking on the door, and then he waited with his breath tight in his chest. Long moments went by, and he fought the urge to turn and leave. He didn’t want to look like a fool, standing out there for long minutes like some chump who didn’t get the message.

But he also knew that was his intrusive thoughts talking. Rami had texted him forty-five minutes ago, saying he couldn’t wait to see him. Maybe he needed to ring the bell.

His finger was just reaching when the door flew open, and Rami grabbed him by the wrist. “No!” He was able to make outRami’s voice through the fog of not wearing his hearing aids. Skye’s brows flew up as Rami quickly let him go and took a step back. ‘Sorry, sorry,’ he signed with a frantic fist. His hands flew through the rest of the signs so quickly Skye couldn’t keep up.

“Hey,” he said, holding up his palms.

Rami’s own hands stilled.

‘I can’t follow that fast.’

Rami’s cheeks darkened. ‘The doorbell. I hate it. I hate it.’ He signed it twice with emphasis on his face. ‘I was in my art room and tripped over one of my buckets.’

It was then Skye noticed that Rami had a small gash just above his left temple, heading into his hairline. “You’re bleeding,” he said aloud.

Rami slapped his hand to his cut. “Oh.”

Skye quickly hustled him inside, dropping the bag on the foyer table. “Where’s your first aid kit?”

It was dark, so if Rami spoke or signed, Skye didn’t catch it, but it didn’t matter. He led the way down the dimly lit hallway, through a set of heavy french doors that opened to a tidy bedroom that Skye immediately recognized from the live, and then into the en suite bathroom.

The lights were soft yellow and not too bright, which was kind on his eyes, and Skye took a breath before guiding Rami to the toilet. “First aid?”

‘Under,’ Rami signed, then pointed to the sink.

Skye dropped to his knees and found the first aid kit. Some of the stuff looked very out of date, but he managed to get a couple of gauze pads, some antiseptic wipes, and a bandage.

Rami looked a little sheepish as he sat there, so Skye set the stuff on the edge of the sink, then cradled his cheeks and leaned in. “Kiss?” he murmured softly.

Rami nodded, and Skye closed the distance between them. He kept it light but hoped that Rami could still feel how happy Skye was to see him again.

“Better?” he asked when he pulled away.

Rami smiled. ‘Yes,’ he signed. ‘Thank you.’

Skye kissed him one last time before getting to work, and within a couple of minutes, his wound was dressed, and all the bandage wrappers were discarded in the bin. Silence settled between them, and Skye realized how awkward the moment had been.

‘I didn’t mean to force you,’ he signed slowly.

Rami’s eyes widened. ‘I don’t understand.’

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