I don't ignore the rush of electricity that hits me when his hand touches mine. The look in his eyes says that he feels it, too. But he averts his gaze to the horse. As he ties both horses to a tree, I walk to the exact spot where I took the photo. When I look behind me, Levi has a blanket, that was tucked into the side of the saddle. He lays it on the ground, and we both lie on our backs. "This is the wrong time of day, of course, since I took that one late at night, and the sun isn't poking out that tiny bit, either. But this is how I did it all the same."
I can feel his breath on my cheek as he watches through the screen. The heat from his body is up against mine, and it's taking everything in me to keep my imagination at bay. The memoriesI have conjured up in my mind of him pleasuring me in my dreams are something that are mine and mine only, but they like to inject themselves into my conscious mind again sometimes. And not always at the best of times, either. Trying not to squirm, I position the lens right where I had it when I snapped the shot. "See how the trees are not quite centered? Just so that the sun can poke through at that angle?"
"Yeah, I see it."
My belly is rumbling with nerves and from the very cheesy lunch I had. Lying down is making the bubbles stay at bay, but as I sit up, the force pushes one out, and I can never be sure if it's audible, since, well, I can't hear. Trying to keep a straight face, I scroll back to the photo I took just now, but I can see the change in Levi's expression.
Shit.
He pulls my gaze to his with his finger on my chin. "Did you just fart?"
He's trying to hide a smirk, but his eyes betray him.
I look away, trying to think of a lie, but he brings my gaze back to his. "Well, that's one serious advantage that I never thought of."
My brows wrinkle.
"Y'all will never know if I cut one, unless you smell it." He looks away, shaking his head. "God, what I could get away with."
I play along. "Are you saying that you find it to your advantage that I'm deaf?" The words come out as I slap him.
His shoulders vibrate as he mocks me, rounding his shoulders as he laughs, making like he has to protect himself from me. "You, Levi Paxton, are wicked."
He fans his face, which is all red from laughing. "No, ma'am, I do believe that you are the wicked one here."
I lose it. I start laughing. I'm sure it comes out sounding strange, since that natural reaction is the only thing that can't betaught. Trisha's and the special school's lessons never taught me how to sound like a hearing person when I laugh, cry or have any sort of emotional reaction. But Levi laughs with me, as I keep hitting him in the shoulder. And as I laugh, I'm sure another one creeps out, sending him reeling. I keep beating on him, as he feigns protecting himself, while we both all but roll around on the blanket, laughing hard enough to split our sides open.
He's mewling, wiping his eyes, as we lay back down on the blanket. "God, I don't believe I've laughed like that in a while."
"Me neither." I've lost track of where my camera is. My head rests on the blanket, but my eyes are facing him, so I don't miss a beat.
He turns to face me and it's dangerous. His eyes search mine. "You know, Lennie, one of the things I really enjoy about you being deaf is that y'all are always paying attention. Most people are bored of me after a sentence or two. Not that I have much to say, anyway."
Nobody has ever said something so sweet to me before. I feel tears pricking the backs of my eyes, and a lump forming in my throat. I just smile softly. He sees that my eyes are glossy with unshed tears. "If things were different, I think that you and I could really be something special together, you know?"
I nod. "We already are something special." I swallow.
He searches my eyes and kisses my forehead. I can feel him mouthing. "Yes we are."
Then he rests his head on his hand, propping it up on his elbow. "So, Lenora, huh."
"Yeah. My daddy's name is Leon and my mama's name is Amora, so they combined the two. Think of how ticked off they were when everyone started calling me Lennie instead."
He chuckles. "I love the name Lenora, actually. It's beautiful."
"Okay, but don't ever call me that."
He laughs out loud.
"I hate Lenora. I only ever sign it on my art pieces because mama and daddy would die if I didn't."
He's still laughing. "I'll remember that." He pulls his face closer to mine and teases me. "Lenora."
I smack him again, and we end up play fighting on the blanket again, laughing and fooling around. When he stops, his eyes are on my lips, and my heart is racing.
God, he's going to kiss me.
God, he's going to kiss me.
