Tess: James. I said I was sorry. I accept you.
I felt inexorably guilty. I didn’t know what to say. I was between another girl’s legs? Excuse my lack of responses?
Kent: What’s up with you?
Kent: Take your tiny dick out of your hand and text me back.
I smirked and quickly typed in a reply.
James: Sorry for not replying sooner. Your bed really is comfortable.
It was early. I didn’t expect a reply. I closed his message and read Uma’s text, smiling genuinely.
Uma: More like good night. How are you?
Uma wasn’t a mushy emotional person. When I went to live with her I wanted to be alone, to fade away, and to have time to forget all that I didn’t have, had lost, and would never have again. In a way her lack of emotional response was comforting. I loved Uma for letting me hide in my shell when I needed it the most. I was used to it. My father was nonexistent in my life, and my mother could have cared less if I breathed, let alone whether I needed her. Her wide green eyes flashed through my mind, indifferent and cold. For some reason Becca’s replaced hers, calming the turmoil my mother’s memory created. I lost myself in the gold, the green, the softness when she looked up at me this morning.
A hand on my shoulder startled me. I turned my head.
“Get up,” Becca ordered.
Her hair was wet and pulled to the side. The smell of apricots and deodorant wafted from her clean skin. She was wearing a tight, dark blue camisole with no bra. Her nipples were hard, poking through the thin fabric as if they wanted my tongue to warm them up.
Her gaze was ice. She glanced down at my phone in revulsion.
I wondered what I’d find if I looked through her messages. My texts were from before I met her, before I got lost in this twisted, intoxicating game. But then again, she was this way before I met her. Our pasts weren’t allowing our present a chance to breathe. It unnerved me. If our present couldn’t work, what did that mean for later?
I pushed away from the couch and stood numbly, watching her fix her bed. She fluffed her pillow and folded her body into a ball with her back to me. Something about her sleeping on the couch after having her in my arms made my insides burn. She should be in a bed with me.
Leaning over her, I touched her shoulder, and waited for her to look at me. “My bed?”
She visibly considered my offer. I watched her argue with herself, with me. Finally her gaze unhardened and she nodded, looking up from under her lashes. Ignoring my body’s response, I gave her my hand and lifted her to her feet. She grabbed her pillow along the way. I turned off the light in the hall and then opened my bedroom, letting her hand go to flip on the light. She entered my room hesitantly, examining it the way one would a trap.
The only trap here is you, I thought bitterly. And I was falling for her. I wasn’t the one here who wanted to rip the other apart.
I sat on the edge of my bed as she looked around my room and took my Converses off. She was dressed for bed. It was five in the morning but I was exhausted. I ripped my shirt off and stood so I could unfasten my jeans. When I turned around, Becca was already in bed watching me. I ignored her and kicked my jeans off, ducking into my bathroom to brush my teeth and take a piss. When I came back, she was staring at the ceiling. Dark purple light from my window penetrated my curtains, highlighting the shadows around her cheekbones.
The few times I slept with women in my bed they were either too drunk to drive home or relationships. I tried to treat this instance like all the rest. Sure, she was unlike anyone I’d ever met, but at the end of the day Becca was still just one woman. I pulled the covers back and crawled in beside her. Yeah right. She was in a category all her own. For a few minutes we both stared at the veins in my ceiling. When I started to drift I felt her eyes on me.
All it took was one look. One look at her and one look at me. She rolled over and curled up against my body. My arms encircled her, holding her to me too tightly. Her damp hair was in my face and her warm breath kissed my bare chest. Her body heat enveloped me. I didn’t realize how much I wanted this until I realized I couldn’t have it. I’d never get this girl. She’d end up with some dipshit like Josh and I’d be here forever, hearing nothing but my memories.
I held her tighter, promising myself that when she was gone I’d find a way to get up.
I’d survive.
Just barely.
Nuzzling against my chest woke me. I blinked at the black-haired beauty in my bed, laying half on my body and half off. Her long legs were entangled with mine and her hand was on my lower abdomen. Her fingers were threaded in my happy trail, holding on to me. Her entire body possessed mine even in sleep. I should have pushed her off and initiated boundaries, something that would prevent her damaging possession. Instead I hid my face in her hair and inhaled her fruity, clean scent.
When she woke and lifted her head to meet my gaze, her own sleepy and heavy, I knew everything she did all day—what she let me do—was to make a point and to keep me away from Tess. And I let her. I let Becca, because telling her no meant proving I was right. I was a pathetic loser who found no comfort within myself because that self was the reason I was alone.
Becca released me and moved to lie on her back. My jaw itched from when I shaved it the other day. I scratched as I attempted to deal with the barrier between us. I just wanted her to talk and for me to be able to hear her. To have a normal conversation that didn’t rely on written words and stunted communication. Accepting I was deaf wasn’t the same as accepting I couldn’t hear the one woman I thought might be worth listening to.
She touched my wrist to get my attention. When I looked at her she was gently digging her teeth into her bottom lip. I surreptitiously pulled my blanket over my growing erection and raised my eyebrows at her questioningly, forcing my expression to remain impassive.
“I’d like to offer an arrangement.” I frowned at her but she kept going. “Friends with benefits.” She looked perplexed, trying to form words too quickly for me to understand. When I stared dumbly at her she let my wrist go and got up, searching through my room. She spotted my backpack and dug inside, pulling out my tablet. She settled back on my bed, opened a blank document page, and started writing her thoughts down. Finished, she handed it off to me, choosing that moment to look away.
I sat up and stared down at my tablet, both confused and increasingly despondent as I read her arrangement.
James,
There’s no denying we have a physical attraction. I can’t think about anything else but having you whenever we’re around each other. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think you’re much different. But the thing is, I don’t need a man. I don’t need a boyfriend. It can never go that deep. All I need right now is sex and a place to stay…and your friendship. I’d feel better knowing we could do this and still be friends. When I’m around you I want things I don’t allow myself to want. I can’t have those things, which means I can’t have you either. It’s better this way. You know it and so do I. I think maybe you understand it better than anyone else. The power to hurt me is a power I will never give away again. Even knowing that, I can’t just let you go. Write down yes or no. Can we forget the emotions and keep this relationship, or do I have to lose your friendship to protect myself?
It can never go that deep?
I didn’t know what was worse. Believing she didn’t want sex from me, or knowing that’s all she wanted. Somehow this wasn’t about sex for me. I was undeniably attracted to this woman. That was a truth I couldn’t overlook. But there was more there than just sex. Kent’s words came back to me. “You get attached to women too quickly and it never ends well.” The dickhead was right. It wasn’t my fault I was attached. Her kiss, her mouth; Becca invited me in. And now she was kicking me out.
She was slipping away. My breathing quickened and my pulse hammered. I couldn’t hear the beating, but it felt like it was going to rip through my ribcage and beg her to go that deep. I felt an overwhelming s
ense of loss. It reminded me of the day I left the hospital with Uma. I knew on top of never being able to hear again I’d never see my mother again either. She’d never give me what I always wanted; she’d never fix what she broke. I had a chance to prevent that this time. My fingers tapped three letters, giving her an answer.
Giving her my pride.
Pride wasn’t worth getting up on my own again.
Yes
I held it in front of me so she couldn’t mistake my answer.
She closed her eyes in relief. Why did the threat of my refusal scare her? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? I had nothing to offer her. Everything I was could be found in someone else, someone better. Maybe I’m not the only one here who’s afraid of this attraction. This wasn’t like all of my other relationships with women. For one, I’d never been so physically attracted to someone the way I was her. I couldn’t even think past it. It clouded my brain and heated my blood. When I wanted Becca, I felt my life rather than watching it pass me by. The connection we shared was so intense and consuming, I wondered if it was a good thing I never had it before; if it was better to be on the ground than to risk standing and falling over again.
Her eyes opened slowly. She reached for my tablet and I gave it to her. Her delicate fingers wrote beneath my pride.
No strings. No emotions. You can still see other people. I’ll see other people. We’ll keep this strictly about sex. I don’t want more. There’s no room in my life for anything else.
When she finished she handed it off to me. My panic had a smell. A bitter, tangy odor. I understood Becca wasn’t my mother. Inside there were startling similarities that prevented me from separating them. Becca didn’t love me either, she pushed me away, she gave me just enough to crave more, and she was unbearably beautiful. My mother was beautiful. Sometimes when she had a normal day she’d sit and watch cartoons for hours with me. She’d never say anything. She wouldn’t look at me like I was a pathetic waste of space. I knew now that she was high and I was probably in her way, but at the time I actually thought she was giving me a chance. That’s how I feel now. Becca was giving me a chance.
My fingers were uncharacteristically shaky as I tapped the touch screen, giving this woman everything I had so she wouldn’t take whatever I had left.
No strings—I’ll try. No emotions—I’ll try there too, but to be honest, Becca, I already might have them for you. Seeing other people—I’d rather you didn’t, but if that’s what you want I’ll learn to deal with it. I’ll see other people too. Don’t give me any more hickeys, and don’t try to keep me from other women. You can’t play games and make up all the rules.
She slid closer and read over my shoulder as I typed. Her warm breath fanned down my shoulder and throat, distracting me. I had more to say, but it got lost in the depth of my fear and lust. My head was spinning and my heart was falling. I was losing this game before it even started. When I’d finished she grabbed the tablet and stared at me intently. Her gaze was confident, but on the edge I detected something unsure.
Do you have any rules you’d like me to follow?
I swallowed hard and forced myself to focus. Don’t rip her clothes off, loser. I had two condoms in my drawer with her name on both of them. She was offering me a bone here. We both knew she wasn’t going to follow my rules. I did note with interest that she had never agreed to anything so far.
Don’t tell me when you hook up with anyone else. I don’t want to know.
She read my request over and over again, and then she rested her head on my shoulder, silently agreeing.
Can I sleep in your bed at night? It’s so much more comfortable than the couch. I’ll keep looking for a place to stay in the meantime.
Right now Becca could have anything she wanted. I didn’t want her living with some creepy pervert anyway. She was safe in my bed. I would never hurt her. I shook my head yes and reached over to tap in my response, explaining to her that she could take as long as she needed to move out. As long as she needed…
Thank you, James. And just so you know, I’m not completely unpunished for last night. I missed my shift at Second Chances. I’ll probably lose my job thanks to you.
She grinned at me. Her eyes became naughty in a matter of seconds. If I didn’t steer this conversation away from her thoughts we’d end up cementing this agreement before I’d had a chance to process what I truly agreed to.
I asked:
How long have you worked there?
I used to work there before I went to college and then I got my job back after Rain married Kent and we stopped talking.
What did you go to college for?
Becca shifted so she was leaning against my chest. It put the tablet between us so that we could just reach out and type our reply. It was the first time I had a normal conversation with a girl without struggling to make sense of either side. Becca found ways to embrace my lack of hearing, instead of trying to forget it. It made me really not want to be friends again.
Art.
Did you graduate?
No. I couldn’t stand it anymore so I came home. With Kent around Raina I had to get her away so we could start fresh. Except things didn’t happen that way. She went to Tampa and came back married. I didn’t have college, my sister, or a place to stay. School was the last thing on my mind. Why did I need it? I’m already a great artist. School only put limits on me.
What are you going to do now?
I don’t know. Kent stole my sister. I probably lost my job. I don’t have enough money to get a room. For the first time things are too hard to just shrug off, you know? Like before I could just keep going. I didn’t have a choice. Without Rain I can’t forge through. But even when she comes back I’ll still be on my own. Kent’s her priority now. I’m just her big sister who’s in the way of her happiness.
Kent didn’t steal your sister. Raina loves you. She loves someone else now at the same time. Haven’t you ever been in love and juggled your relationship with your sister at the same time?
No. Rain always came first.
No you’ve never juggled, or no you’ve never been in love?
Both.
I looked at her closely. I mouthed,
“Really?”
She replied, smiling uncomfortably,
“Really,”
Are you shocked?
Well, yeah. I am. You have dated, right?
I date.
Her answers were stilted. She either didn’t want to talk about this with me, or she didn’t have answers period.
What about you, James? Have you ever been in love?
No.
How could a woman like Becca never fall in love? I understood my inability. It was hard to fall in love when you couldn’t hear the words that made them. I didn’t understand hers. She was sexy and charismatic. She attracted men. What prevented her from loving them?
Who’s Tess?
Glancing away gave me a second to think about her question. It was pointed. She had a reason for asking it.
She’s in one of my classes. We were talking for a while and then I blew it.
Blew it how?
I talked.
Oh, James. I’m sure you talking had nothing to do with it. She was probably an insensitive moron who didn’t understand what you were actually going through. I read your texts, remember? She sounds like naïve idiot. You are not a pet. You’re not a cute tagalong friend she can play with when she’s bored. You’re deaf. You’re only deaf. Personally, I think you probably need to accept that more than she does.
I did accept it. I accepted it the moment I woke up and couldn’t hear out of my right ear all those years ago. And then the monster took my other ear, until both were silent forever.
But as I stared at her typed words I contemplated the possibility that maybe I hadn’t accepted anything. I resented my defect more and more every day. It’s the reason I was the way I was. It didn’t bring me here, but it wasn’t helping me either. As I struggled to understand my feel
ings, she continued to type.
So what happened? You talked and she lit the torch? Did the townspeople come running?
Please don’t ask me to talk, Becca. I can’t stand the idea of you looking at me like that.
Like what?
Like I’m deformed.
But you’re not deformed. You’re gorgeous, and sweet, but also incredibly introverted. You treat your difference like it’s a huge painful scar covering your body for the whole world to see. But it’s not. You think you’re scarred, when really you’re probably the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Inside and on the outside. But that doesn’t really matter, does it? Something tells me you’ve thought this way about yourself your entire life. It isn’t just because you’re deaf. Have you been deaf your whole life?
No. I lost my hearing when I was seven.
I answered unthinkingly, still stuck on her response. I couldn’t look at her. Gorgeous? Attractive? Those were not words I’d ever used to describe myself. My reasons for not doing so partially originated from how everyone treated me. There was no denying I was a pathetic loser from birth. When I lost my hearing the way others treated me dramatically worsened, as if not hearing the world turned the world against me.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 12