Page 5 of Tameron

I wanted more than that kind of life. I wanted something for myself. Something good. Something that had more purpose than working myself into an early grave. I wanted to find joy in what I did again, and I knew a big part of that was slowing down andtaking time to give myself not just what I needed but what I wanted.

The problem was I had no clue what that was supposed to be. And with the way things were going, I wasn’t sure I would find it any time soon.

“…so we managed to get the bleeding slowed and then turned him over to the attending. And now I realize why all the EMTs are stressed out about Christmas tree figurine season.” Nash’s face on the phone screen was kind of pale, and I was doing my best to hold in a laugh.

I wish someone had thought to warn the poor bastard about how often people got creative with plug-shaped objects and buttholes. It had definitely been a shock to me when I first started, but I knew the only way past it was going through the trauma of watching someone limp and wince because they had a tree-shaped ornament stuck up their ass.

“You can laugh at me,” Nash said miserably. “Everyone else has been.”

“They’re only laughing because they’ve been there. Now we’re all jaded, and someday, you will be too.”

“Please remind me to tell my little baby queers in the house that just because something looks like a buttplug doesn’t mean it will function as one.”

At that, I lost it. I covered my face with a pillow as I held the phone away from me. I could hear him chuckling along, and that made me feel better. “Can I be a fly on the wall for that talk?” I asked once I could speak again.

His eyes crinkled in the corner. “I’ll set up a FaceTime. Creek will probably go quiet and turn seven different shades of red. Bean will ask questions. Tameron is going to lose his mind.”

My heart skipped a beat at Tameron’s name, and I knew it probably showed because, being raised by a Deaf family, I had no poker face at all. I’d been trained from birth to express myself in hands and body language first.

But Nash was kind enough not to mention it.

“Keep me posted,” I told him.

He was still chuckling. “You know I will. But I have to get going. You wanna come by for dinner this week?”

“Yeah. Let me know what night’s good.” I felt vibrations under my bare feet and looked up to see Dax in the archway between the living room and the kitchen. I set my middle finger to my chest and flicked it upward. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ he signed. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’

He meant Tameron because I’d obviously been talking about him too often and now my dickhead brother was convinced I had a crush. I flipped him the bird and he laughed loudly as I turned my attention back to Nash. “The sooner, the better,” I told him.

Nash snorted. “Your brother? Tell him I said hi.”

I looked back up at Dax. ‘Nash says hi.’

Dax lit up, hurried around the back of the couch, and leaned over my shoulder. He kept his signs slow and exaggerated, like he was talking to a toddler, which kind of worked, considering Nash had the working vocabulary of a deaf toddler. ‘How are you?’

‘Good,’ Nash signed back. His hands moved stiffly in a thick hearing accent. ‘How are you? Nice tie.’

Dax preened as he ran his hand over it. ‘Burberry,’ he signed very slowly.

Nash’s lips curved around the letters as Dax signed them, and then he whistled and shook his hand in front of his body. ‘Wow. Fancy.’

‘Just finished a huge job.Paid well,’ Dax told him, then straightened. ‘See you sometime soon?’

Nash gave him a thumbs-up and Dax looked satisfied before wandering out. When he was gone, Nash zeroed in on me. “What was he signing when I couldn’t see him?”

I flushed, but there was no way I was telling him Dax was mocking me about having a crush, which was absurd. Ididn’thave a crush on Tameron. I just—objectively—enjoyed the way he looked. Eye candy hurt no one, dammit. But Dax seemed to think it was more, and he was going to give me endless shit about it. Which, of course, was what baby brothers did.

And it was very probable he was right.Maybe I did have a crush.A tiny one.

“He was mocking me for being a single loser.”

“Aww, you’re not a loser, hun,” Nash said soothingly.

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, Dad. Anyway, before you go, any word on the gym thing?”

“Oh shit! Yeah, that’s why I called in the first place. We got the go-ahead. Check your work email. They sent you a contract for the yoga classes. I’m not sure if those times and dates will work for you, but they have a separate soundproofed room on site that you can use.”

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