Page 63 of ILY
“Fine, but if I die today, you’re paying for my funeral.”
He grins wider. When he smiles like that, he looks so much like Thom.
“Deal. Also, you’ll have a friend in the class today, so you won’t be alone.”
I have no idea who he could possibly mean. It’s sure as shit not Rhett. The man has to be bribed to attend classes like that—and I’m pretty sure he’s with Robbie at the college. And it’s not Mellie. It’s prime hour for his food truck.
Same goes for Denver. All of his classes are during the morning and afternoon, so he wouldn’t be here.
So who the fuck else does Dex think I know?
He opens the door for me, and my eyes scan the room. I see two older men with iron-grey hair and bodies that I’d kill for when I’m their age, or my age, for that matter. They’re chatting away happily, obviously excited for the torture that’s about to ensue. My eyes then drift to two women who have the yoga mom look with their high-end workout gear and Stanley cups. They’re going to make this look effortless. I just know it.
My gaze sweeps to the far corner, and I huff, because standing there looking like he’s plotting a murder is Roman.
I almost laugh out loud. It takes all of my willpower not to. Our eyes meet, and his brighten for a second before he pulls a face. He knows that I know why he’s here. Thom’s brother isn’t my type, but the man has the ass of a ripe peach, and anyone can appreciate it.
Even Roman.
I walk over anyway and grab a mat from the wall, laying it down next to his.
‘Shut up,’ he signs.
I hold up my hands in surrender, and he scoffs, turning away to take a long swig from his water bottle. When he looks back, I say, ‘Careful, or you’re gonna have to take a piss break before class is over, and Dex will make an example out of you.’
He flips me off and takes another long drink.
His funeral.
Or maybe that’s what he wants. A little punishment.
As if conjuring him, Dex appears, glancing twice at Roman like he’s unsure what to do. There’s not an interpreter in the room, and I’m pretty sure I know what that means. I’m going to have to interpret the class. That’s why he wanted me here.
Annoyance filters through me for about nine seconds before the large TV in the corner comes to life. The background is black, but then I see Dex adjusting a mic that hooks over his ear.
“Welcome,” he says. A beat later, the words appear on the screen.
Oh shit.
‘Impressed,’ I sign at Roman, who rolls his eyes.
‘Bare minimum. There’s a delay in the captions.’ He takes a breath, and then his shoulders sag a little in defeat. ‘I got an email that they’re working with the university to employ fresh grads who want to work at the gym and interpret. They have a couple of CDI graduates interested.’
That’s…well, it’s not really surprising, considering Thom is basically married to Robbie, and Robbie has made it his mission in life to make sure everything is accessible for the Deaf community. So hiring Certified Deaf Interpreters is very much something Robbie would insist on.
But being in a small town, the pool is very, very small.
‘Compromise?’ I ask and point at the TV.
Roman shrugs and looks irritated again, but I can’t help wondering if maybe he’s just being pissed for the sake of being pissed. But then his expression shifts to something else. I recognize it immediately because I’m pretty sure that’s my face every time Thorne takes his shirt off.
My gaze moves to the front of the room, and Dex is facing the mirror, doing squats. I smirk and glance at Roman, whoresolutely keeps his eyes shifting between the TV captions and Dex’s very round, tight ass.
I can’t really blame him. If I weren’t so caught up with Thorne, I might feel the same way.
Instead, I find myself wishing that Thorne were with me. That I could spend the afternoon staring at him flexing his glutes.
Because then I’d get to take him home and taste all that sweat with my tongue.
