Robbie slides up beside me and jerks his chin in a sort of greeting. I bet he picked that shit up from Thom.
‘You okay?’
‘Jet lag,’ I tell him, the letters flicking off my fingers.
He gives me a look that tells me he knows I’m full of shit. We’ve been in each other’s lives for too long, and we’ve known each other far too intimately for me to be able to lie to him.
‘Are you happy to be home?’
‘Yes.’ The word feels like a lie on my hand. Iamhappy. But I was hoping to come back a different man. Maybe even show up with a hot French Deaf boyfriend who had a big dick and a talented tongue.
Robbie lifts a brow. ‘You can talk to me, you know. Unless you still hate me.’
‘I never hated you.’
‘Liar.’
Fine. I hated him for a little while, but I won’t admit it. ‘I’m over it. You and Thom are good together, and he’s worked hard for you.’
Robbie looks relieved. Shit, maybe he really was worriedabout how I felt. It’s not like we talked a lot when I was gone for three years. ‘I didn’t want to lose you.’
I wait for the pain to hit me because those are words I’ve wanted to see on his hands for a long, long time. But it doesn’t come, which is okay. That’s progress.
‘I’m still here.’
‘I didn’t mean to ice you out. Thom really wants to be friends.’ I do my best not to grimace, but I know I fail because Robbie rolls his eyes. ‘He can hold a conversation at Deaf speed.’
It’s not that. With Thom comes Dex, so he’s always going to be around in some capacity. Which means I’ll have to see him again. I’ll have to look him in the eye knowing what I know.
Wanting what I want.
And I’ll have to see him and his gorgeous girlfriend and watch them be happy together—whichiswhat I want for him. Really, I’m not even lying. Because I know he’s not for me.
Ugh, my head hurts. A throbbing, angry pressure sits against the back of my skull.
Robbie taps me gently. ‘Let’s go inside. I’ll get my brothers to wrap it up.’
I shake my head quickly. I’m not going to rain on the welcome home parade just because I didn’t fix my shit while I was gone. ‘No. Stay. Eat. Drink. Chat-chat.’
He huffs a laugh, then threads his arm through mine and drags me back inside, where Thom is waiting with a smile. He’s not even jealous because he’s secure in himself. The asshole.
He gestures toward the couch, which has been vacated by Robbie’s brothers—who are god knows where. Probably wandering around being nosy and going through my suitcases.
Either way, it makes it easy to settle in. Thom hands me adrink, and I sniff at it just to be my usual asshole self. Don’t want anyone to think I’ve changed too much.
Once again, he doesn’t get mad. He just rolls his eyes as I take a long sip.
It’s not strong enough, but it’s strong, and I decide it might be time to make peace.
‘Did Robbie’s brothers tell you about his sign name yet?’ I ask him.
Thom brightens like Christmas has come early as Robbie slaps a hand over his face. ‘Horny-rooster-corn,’ he signs happily.
Robbie flips him off, then me, as I laugh. ‘He tried so hard to be edgy at sixteen.’
Thom reaches out and plays with a bit of Robbie’s hair. ‘You would have looked so good with a mohawk.’
Gross. They’re so schmoopy and disgusting. I smile anyway, thinking about the story Quinn and Theo told me where a teenage Robbie had tried so hard to be a punk and ended up giving himself a sign name that failed spectacularly.
