“Draw.”
He grimaces. “Where does that put you on the ladder now?”
“We drop to fifth.” I run a tired hand over my face. “I’m going to make some lunch. You guys want anything?”
Amelia shakes her head, but Jonathon jumps off the couch. “Yeah. I’ll give you a hand.”
Heaving a sigh, my sister flops back and picks up the television remote while he follows me into the kitchen.
I busy myself pulling out ingredients for sandwiches while Jonathon grabs a couple of plates from the cupboard. He’s a little twitchy, casting glances at the archway to the living room until I can’t take it any longer.
“Go on then,” I say, slicing a tomato.
“What?”
“Ask me whatever it is you want to ask.”
He swallows. “Can you teach me how to ask Milly to the formal?”
I fight my grin, maintaining a serious expression. “You know she can read lips.”
“I know,” he says, focusing on the bread he’s buttering, “but I want her to know she’s special.”
My chest expands as I study the guy in front of me. He’s nervous, but there’s not a trace of pity in his voice. He clearly likes my sister, and I admire him for having the guts to ask.
“Yeah. I can show you.”
“Thanks.”
We finish making our sandwiches, and I wipe my hands on a tea towel before turning to him. “All right, it’s pretty simple.”
Jonathon straightens.
“You know how to sayyou.”
He nods, pointing at me. “You.”
“Right,” I confirm. With my pointer and middle fingers, I make upside down V’s and do a sweeping gesture in front of my chest twice while holding my other hand palm up to represent a dance floor. “That’s dance.”
He nods, repeating the gesture a couple of times until he has it.
We do this for the wordsgoandtogether,finishing with him pointing at himself.
I demonstrate it all together, and he practises until the movement looks almost natural.
When he’s done, he glances towards the living room with a nervous grin.
“Do you think she’ll say yes?”
I smirk and pick up my sandwich. “Dude, you had your tongue in her mouth less than twenty minutes ago. She’ll say yes.” His cheeks redden, and I pat him on the back. “You’re a good guy, Jonathon. I know you’ll treat her right.”
“I really like her,” he admits, looking me in the eye. “She’s kind and funny and sweet. I wish I hadn’t been so intimidated by her all these years.”
“It doesn’t put you off that you’ll have to learn sign language to communicate?”
He shakes his head. “I’m willing to do anything for her,” he says, taking his plate.
Well, fuck. The guy has just earned my respect.
