He shrugs. ‘The guy was weird. He had bad connections and a lot of money. He was very angry when he was exposed.’
That doesn’t make me feel great.
‘This one is some guy they think is stealing from a retirement home. It’ll be easy.’
‘Robbie will kill you if you die on a job,’ I tell him.
He bursts into laughter. ‘I always bounce back. Have fun. Don’t get too worked up about Dex.’
I freeze. ‘What?’
He shakes his head like I’m the biggest dipshit in the world. ‘I see you two. I know. Can tell. Deaf eyes never miss.’
Fuck, I hate him so much. No, I hate myself.
No, I hateDex.
‘It’s nothing.’
He pats my cheek again. ‘Change your sign name to liar if you keep that up. Have a good night,’ he adds quickly, then gets into the car. I take several steps back as he puts it into reverse and backs out of the long driveway.
It takes me a while to realize the sun is almost down, and I’m also no longer alone. I can sense Dex like I was born to, like I have something in me that always knows where he is.
Turning slowly, I meet his gaze in the fading dusk and then look him up and down. Fuck it. Fuck propriety. Fuck my resolution to stay away from hearing guys.
I want him.
I take a step closer, and he doesn’t move, so I take another. Then another. The space between us is shrinking. Soon enough, I’ll be able to touch him. To hold him.
To kiss him.
To shove my hand down his pants and feel the weight of his cock in my palm.
My mouth waters, and just as our chests are about to bump, he presses one hand against mine and shakes his head.
‘No?’ I demand, outraged. He shrugs and looks so nonchalant that I wonder if maybe he’s done with me. The thought that I might be too late scares the actual piss out of me. ‘What do you mean, no? You don’t want me anymore.’
He takes a deep breath, then makes space between us to sign properly. ‘I want you, but I also want a…’ He makes the sign for dessert, and for a moment, I wonder if that’s what he wants.
Is he still hungry?
Then he signs it another way, and my eyes widen. Not dessert.
Date. What the fuck does that mean? There’s not enough context in that single sign, and it pisses me off. But then he keeps going.
‘The two of us. You-me-go on date.’
He wants me to take him on a fucking date? The question must show on my face because he huffs a huge sigh before answering my unsigned question.
‘You’ve been screwing me around since we first met. You got into my car and followed me home, you sucked my dick, you let me suck yours. You followed me into the shower and made me see god. You promised to stay, and then you left. Three years you were gone, no text, no note. Ghost.’
Yeah, I was wondering when he was going to bring that up. Shame coasts up my spine, and I swallow heavily. I don’t apologize though. Why should I?
Even though it feels like he deserves one.
‘You come back three years later and pounce on me in the shower. You think I’m cheating and still fuck me,’ he adds.
My ears are flaming hot, and my cheeks are mottled pink. He’s making me sound like the worst, and shit, maybe I am. Maybe I have been the villain all along.
