Page 15 of Silent Is The Heart

Pulling open the bathroom door, I bask in the way the temperature change in my bedroom makes my skin go taut. Tromping across the carpet, I step out into the kitchen and living area, prepared to make a beeline toward the counter for some pot-banging practice. That should wake Sleeping Beauty, except… he’s not on the couch. He’s talking to someone by my front door. Who the fuck is…

That looks like…

No.

The sight before me is like colliding with a brick wall.

Aaron Manicki.

Fucking. Aaron Manicki. In my living room.

An eight years older, eight times more handsome, Aaron Manicki.

My heart gallops like a herd of elephants, drinking him in; the same solid build, that chestnut hair combed less severely, and those stupid, jade-green eyes that drove my teenage heart crazy. Damn it to hell. He’s still drop-dead gorgeous.

I fucking hate him for it.

What… the hell… is he doing here?

The flicker of his gaze and his parted lips as he and Wolf notice me let me know he’s not the only one sizing up an old acquaintance. My stomach squirms, watching his shocked expression as he takes in my ink-covered body.

Why do I feel self-conscious? I never give a damn what a guy thinks of me. Let him get his fill. I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, so I stand seemingly unaffected as those eyes rake over me from head to toe.

Yeah. That’s right, Manicki. I’m not the boy you left behind.

His expression and that dorky-ass sweater with a dress shirt underneath couldn’t say more plainly that I don’t run in hiscircles. Inhaling, I straighten up, out of spite or maybe self-preservation. I’m bigger than when he last saw me, but it doesn’t feel like enough.

Why did I give this man so much power over my psyche? Why am I still?

“Easton,” he says with a puff of breath. It’s like he can’t believe it’s me. “It’s good to see you.”

Why am I trembling? What in the hell is going on? It’s just Aaron Fucking Manicki. He is not tremble-worthy.

Shit. I’m just standing here like a mute in front of the man who single-handedly taught me to speak again.

I don’t know what the hell to say to him, and I sure as shit have no desire to subject myself to his reaction over my voice, even if I could find words. Mute… That suddenly seems like a stellar idea.

I tilt my chin, the universal sign forwhat’s up.Seems appropriate since he came here unannounced, and I’m standing here in nothing but a towel like we’re old bros.

“I’m back at Hampton Hills and saw that you… never finished your program, so I… I thought I’d check in on you.”

Wow. How cute. I’m suddenly seventeen again and need him to document my well-being.

Did he think I ceased to evolve after he left? That I couldn’t possibly take care of myself without guidance from him or Hampton?

The nerve of this guy. How did I miss his arrogance all those years ago? He’s good at burying it under layers of polite good intentions.

Holding my towel with my left hand, I smirk and sign with my right, ignoring the helpless memories the communication method stirs inside me now that it’s for someone other thanWolf. With Wolf, it’s our own secret language. For Aaron, it’s just… torture.

Hampton has you making house calls now?

He blinks, watching my hand even after I drop it. The crestfallen look in his expression twists something in my chest. I shouldn’t feel like I’ve failed him, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction—or maybe even the disappointment—of hearing me. I shouldn’t care what he’d think of my gravelly baritone, but it’s like one of those notes kids pin on your back to mock you.

He starts to raise his hand to sign back but drops it. Yeah. I’m not deaf, asshole. That says right there how well he remembers me. I can’t believe I ever pined for this guy.

“No. I just, uh, moved back last month to take Dr. Norton’s old job at Hampton and got to wondering how you were doing.”

A month. It took him a month to remember me? With a tight-lipped smile, I extend my palms to indicate my flat, gloating over how it shows off more of my ink for his widened eyes.

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