Holding Her Hand (Reed Brothers Book 15)(8)

“You can’t force me to like him.”

“I know.” She gets up to return to her room. At the door, she looks back at me over her shoulder. “Did you need something?”

I need to talk to her about Ryan and the way that he found out about my suicide attempt. I need to talk to her about my interest in him and his complete disinterest in a girl like me. And I want some advice about what to wear tonight when I meet him.

“No,” I say instead. “I didn’t need anything.”

Her eyes go soft. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” I stomp to my room and slam my door a little too hard.

I wanted to show her the tattoo I got today. I wanted to show her how Ryan put my parents’ rings in them without me even having to ask him. I wanted to show her how damn special the whole thing was, and how beautiful he made it. But I didn’t get to show her anything.

I roll my gloves down and pull them off. Then I walk to the mirror and uncover my new tattoo, gently removing the plastic wrap Ryan put on me. The seagulls are perfect. I can’t wait to see what else he comes up with.

I first started wearing the gloves because I couldn’t stand looking in the mirror and seeing the evidence of the way I destroyed my family and killed my parents. It hurt every time I had to see the scars. But now, they’re going away, and I couldn’t be happier.

I look up at Ryan’s Skyscrapers baseball cap and tug it low over my eyes. I wonder why he wants it back so badly. I toss it onto the bed and go get in the shower.

When I get dressed, I do it with the knowledge that someone will be looking at me who knows my secret already. I don’t have to work so hard to hide it. And I leave home feeling freer than I have in a very long time.

Ryan

She takes my breath when she comes around the corner. She’s wearing a blue jean skirt and a shiny, loose-fitting top. She has white gloves pulled up past her elbows, although one side is riding a little lower than the other and I see the tattoo I did this morning. Her brown hair is loose around her shoulders and her dark brown eyes sparkle at me.

“Hi,” she says. She smiles and ducks her head.

“Is my cap safe?” I ask. I look at the tiny purse she has clutched in her hand.

“It’s safe,” she says. “For now.” She grins at me and my heart jolts.

I look at the seagulls I tattooed on her arm. “I like you with ink. We should add a lot more.”

She smiles. “I like that idea.” She nods toward the restaurant. “Are you hungry?”

I shrug. “I could eat.” Truthfully, I am starving. I haven’t eaten since the sandwich I had this afternoon. “What about you?”

She nods. “You’re buying. Of course I’m hungry.”

“Who said I was buying?” I am, but still.

“You want to see your cap again, right?”

I nod. “I do.” I open the door and motion for her to precede me into the restaurant. The wind catches her shirt as we go through the door and blows it up, and I get a peek at her flat belly. And…my dick gets hard. Oh, shit. This is really, really bad.

We follow the waitress to our table, and Lark slides into one side of the booth and I take the other. I am sincerely grateful for the table between us. The waitress leaves two menus and walks away.

A group of teenagers at a nearby table all take their phones out and start snapping pictures.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “By the end of the night, you’ll be known as the hot guy I’m f*cking on the down low in all the tabloids.”

I shake my head like a dog shaking water from its fur. “I’m sorry, but all I got from what you just said was that you think I’m hot and we’ll be f*cking later.”

Her face turns bright pink and she looks away bashfully.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says.

“So you don’t think I’m hot?” I tease.

She finally smiles. “No, I do,” she rushes to say, her fingers working quickly.

I grin. “Good. I think you’re pretty hot too. S-M-O-K-I-N-G,” I spell out with my fingers, and then I blow the tips of them like they’re on fire.

Her smile grows and the flush on her cheeks moves all the way down her chest. “Thank you,” she says tentatively.

I lean toward her a little like I’m imparting a secret. “Now about the f*cking…” I toss my hands up in question, leaving it open for her.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about that since you don’t f*ck hearing girls.” She stares hard at me, and this time it’s me who blushes.

“I didn’t say I don’t like hearing girls. I just couldn’t take one home to meet my parents.” I must be the biggest dick on the face of the planet after that comment. But she’s not angry. She leans back against the seat cushion and just stares at me.

“You’ve had sex with hearing girls?” she asks. Her eyes search my face, like she’s looking for the smallest hint of a lie.

“Never had an opportunity,” I admit. “My circle has been pretty small.”

She takes a sip of her water. “Tell me about your circle. Where did you go to school?”

I name a school for the deaf upstate.

“You lived there all the time?”

I nod. “Except for holidays and weeks off.”