Page 89 of Kiss-Fist
He knows I can’t read for shit.
Lazy fucker.
I dart into the showers and rinse off before changing into a fresh set of Lycra shorts and a muscle shirt, and then I wander out and find Dex waving me over. I fall into a quick jog.
I can’t wait to tell him.
“Holy fuck, guess what! I have a boyf?—”
“Bro. You have a new client. He’s Deaf. I figured you wouldn’t mind since you’re further along with ASL than I am,” he says, then waves his hand to the left.
I turn my head, and my heart literally drops to my feet. There’s not a chance in hell I will ever not recognize that face. The dark hair, the dark eyes, the arrogant smirk.
Rome’s standing there in a very tight tank top and grey sweats that hug every curve and leave nothing to the imagination. He cocks a brow at me, his head tilted to the side.
I turn back to Dex, panic racing through my veins. “I can’t.”
Dex stares at me, then looks over at Rome and signs, ‘Sorry, wait.’ At least he’s picking up gym-appropriate vocab from the app. He turns back to me. “What the fuck?”
“I can’t. That’s…” Oh god, I can’t tell him I had a jealous meltdown over Robbie’s hookup at a drag show the night before. And I’m a little creeped out that he’s here. Like…what the fuck is he doing? Is he a jealous stalker? Is he going to end up chopping me up and putting me in the dumpster out back?
“What is it?” Dex presses when I don’t say anything.
I take a deep breath. If I do this—if I refuse to take Rome as a client—he wins. He’ll go back to Robbie and tell him what a pathetic, sorry loser I am who can’t face his boyfriend’s past. And that’s not the kind of man I am.
I’m a strong, independent gay man, damn it.
I own a business. Well, I own half a business. I have my own place. I pay all my bills on time. I’m learning a new fucking language. And I have a boyfriend.
I have Robbie.
He’s mine. He said so last night. More than once, coming with my name on his lips, not Rome’s.
I nod and take a deep breath, then turn back around. ‘How can I help you?’
Just like last night, Rome’s hands fly through signs, and my brain isn’t fast enough to catch them all. There are a few I recognize, but my brain can’t order them correctly into sentences.
‘Sorry,’ I sign. ‘Please slow down.’
His eyes narrow. ‘How does Robbie deal with you.’
I don’t understand every single one of those signs, but Iunderstand enough to fill in the rest with context. I blow a puff of air out and shrug. ‘He likes me.’
Rome snorts and rolls his eyes. ‘Sure.’ His sarcasm is dripping from his face and hands, the slow drag of his finger up and over his lips. He knows what he’s conveying with that.
‘Is there anyone else who knows ASL? The website said you had a Deaf trainer.’
My shoulders sag in mild relief. Okay. So maybe he didn’t stalk me. I was getting a little crazy with that. We do have Zev advertised on our website. And that’s a reminder that Dex needs to go in and take it down until he gets back from leave.
‘Zev,’ I sign.
Rome’s eyebrows fly up, and I see recognition on his face. He uses Zev’s sign name, and I nod. His face falls. He very clearly knows what happened and why Zev is gone.
‘I don’t know when he’ll be back.’
Rome taps his foot impatiently, darts a look at the door, and then his gaze returns to me. He smirks. Shit. ‘Ok. You.’
I point at myself, and he nods. ‘My ASL slow.’
