Page 22 of Kiss-Fist
But he insists. He wants to impress me, but he doesn’t need to do that. I’m already impressed. He’s the hottest guy I’ve seen in a while. And he’s smart. I can tell. He just looks like a genius, and that kind of turns me on.
I have a thing for people with big brains. Maybe because I don’t feel like I have that, so I enjoy it in my partners. I like to learn from them, like to listen as they speak.
I want to learn ASL faster so I can have mind-blowing conversations with him.
He points to the larger weight again, and I give in, deciding he should try it just so he knows it’s probably not a good idea.
I go for the ten-pounder and hand it to him. His arm flops to his side, and he purses his lips, trying to lift it like I show him. I make sure to grab a large weight for myself so my muscles bulge, wanting him to look at me and drool.
He does too, his eyes flicking to my arms and back to the weight in his hand. He’s trying like hell to lift it again and again, doing a bicep curl, but after three, he sighs and shakeshis head. A bead of sweat is forming on his temple, and I resist the urge to reach out and rub it away.
I won’t do that. I won’t let him know I see how tired he is. He has to be embarrassed, but more than that, he’s a little stubborn. He doesn’t want to admit he was wrong. So I let it go and hand him the weight that I originally picked for him.
He sighs and puts it in his other hand and then follows my movements again.
This time, he’s more successful, and I raise my hands in the Deaf clap Zev showed me how to do when he first started working at the gym.
He stares at me as he sets the weights down. And then begins signing quickly. I have no idea what he’s saying, but I really wanna know. It’s fast, and the only word I catch is hot. I think. Maybe not.
I just stand there and watch.
I have no idea how to respond, so I don’t. He blinks at me, his cheeks turning pink before he signs sorry and then something else I can’t understand. He meets my stare after a second, his shoulders falling slightly, and turns on his heel, rushing off.
I should go after him.
The decent thing to do would be to stop him and make sure everything’s okay, but the moment was so charged between us that I don’t. I can’t. I crossed a few tiny lines, touching him the way I had, and I’m afraid if I make him stop, he’ll tell me it’s over.
And I’m not ready for that.
So like a total turd, I stand completely still, and I let him go.
CHAPTER FIVE
THOM
I haven’t seenRobbie at the gym since he signed that long speech I didn’t understand. His next appointment isn’t until Monday, but I half expected to see him Wednesday afternoon for an impromptu session.
Only he wasn’t there, leaving me half-distracted all night, watching the door, waiting. I even rewatched the security video a couple of times and tried to look up signs online to see what he was saying, but I failed miserably.
I’ve given up hope that he’ll be back, and I’ve got zero pep in my step as I go through my shower routine before I have to be at work. It’s the last place I want to be right now, but it’s also the only place I ever run into him, so I’m definitely not going to call out.
I mean, Icouldshow up at his place of work—I asked around—I know where that is. But I’m pretty sure that would be too creepy, and I refuse to scare him off.
Instead, I scrub myself dry with a towel, then drop it onthe floor before stepping out of the bathroom and coming to a halt at the sight of a man on my couch.
“Oh, what the fuck!” The words tumble out as I grab at my naked crotch, my hair still dripping from my shower. I’m fairly used to my house being invaded by my friends and my brother, but I prefer that it doesn’t happen when I’m fully naked.
“Relax,” the guy says, waving a hand at me. It’s only then that I recognize him: Isaac, my so-called best friend. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
He’s not technically wrong. Isaac has been my best friend since I can remember. We were each other’s firsts for pretty much everything. He came out our freshman year of high school, and it gave me the courage to come out a few months later.
We didn’t exactly have the most queer-friendly upbringing though, so it was easier to experiment with each other and avoid the possible black eye from hitting on the wrong guy in the gym.
But it’s been years since I’ve let him anywhere near my dick, and right now, it doesn’t seem interested in anyone or anything except the hot professor who has been tormenting my sleeping and waking hours.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t wait for his answer, slipping into my room to grab my outfit for the day. Lycra shorts because I have to teach a cycling class and thigh chafe sucks, then loose basketball shorts over them because although Robbie isn’t on my schedule, he tends to randomly show up, and we’re not at the show him my boner stage of our relationship yet.
Or ever.
