Page 37 of The Sound Of Us

Too depressing.

“It’s real life,” I grumble while I pick at the threads on my pants.

His fingers, cold at first, and then burning into my skin, lift my chin until my face is lifted up to his.

Eli drops his eyes to my lips, studying them with a frown.

If someone asked me what I would have given for just one moment of a tenderness like this, I would have said anything. I would have given anything.

The catastrophic impact of this gentle touch has me reeling backward, my body unable to contain the easiness of it. My back hits the bark of the tree behind me.

Eli seems a little shocked at the wholly unnecessary dramatics on my part. His hand remains in the air and he looks at me curiously. His expression cuts between reality and all my imagined ramblings, and I realize he was just trying to read my lips.

My face heats up, the burn amplified by the cold night air.

The thing about trying to talk to a deaf person is that you can’t hide behind mutterings under your breath or selfish words spoken into the air. You had to look them straight in the eye if there was something you wanted to say.

“I’m sorry,” I say, facing him when all I want to do is hide my face.

He shrugs, but the frown on his face remains.

I should leave. I like being here, with him, too much. I’m going to get us both killed with Frank’s gun. I turn to leave but he puts his hand over mine, stopping me. Despite my dangerous physical response to this man, I manage to remain calm, even though the feel of his hand on mine has set my heart beating wildly.

He types on his phone. Don’t go yet.

This is a bad idea. “Okay,” I say.

Eli’s hand moves from mine upward. His fingers graze the tips of my hair. I try hard, but it’s impossible to stop the visible tremble of my body.

It’s pathetic, but no one has ever touched me like this. So… gentle. I should turn away, but this tenderness is too much to give up. So foreign to me, but still, it’s as if my body recognizes it and lays immediate claim to it.

So, instead of turning away, and with a shaky inhalation, I turn into his hand. He shifts forward until he’s close. So close I can see the vapor releasing from his mouth with every out-breath.

His fingers move deeper into my hair, entwining with my locks. Curling thick strands of my hair along his finger, letting it go and then doing it again.

I sit there, stiff as a frozen corpse, but my insides are burning hot as hell itself.

He removes his hand from my hair and I immediately feel the loss. He makes a sign with his hand. I don’t know what it means. I frown and give my head a small shake.

He types on his phone. Your curls are beautiful.

Someone else might’ve been pleased to receive such a compliment. But for me, something happens inside of me that is so fearful, I shake my head vigorously.

No. It’s too girly. But how do I tell him that? I don’t speak his language. I feel so useless. For some inexplicable reason, I want to speak to him in sign.

He just smiles and nods, countering my denial of his compliment. And then he touches his index finger to my cheek and makes the same sign. Beautiful. He thinks my dimples are beautiful.

My eyes drop to his mouth. I reach for my wedding band, rubbing it with my thumb while I watch this man’s mouth with fire inside my soul. I’m trapped in a nightmare. Only, in this nightmare, I embrace the demons like old friends. And in fact, it’s not a nightmare at all. This is my deepest, darkest dream. The one I escape to when Frank invades my body.

My cock gathers blood with unstoppable speed and there’s no denying my sexual response to Eli. The light of fidelity begins to dim as I fall into this liquid, silky darkness.

Eli watches me for a second, and when I lift my eyes to his, he drops his to my mouth. Whoever said you need words to say all the things in your heart? Words are not needed. Not for this and not for the unspeakable things that come to the mind of someone about to do something immoral.

Guided by the softness in his eyes and the gentleness of his touch from moments earlier, I shift a fraction forward. My thumb pressed to my wedding band, holding on to it like a punishment for my pending sins, I inch closer to Eli.

He has no wedding band to hold on to, yet he hesitates. Somehow that makes me want this more than before. I read his hesitation as some kind of loyalty or care for me. That he wouldn’t want to cause me to fall. But he doesn’t know it’s too late. I fell that night when he held me from behind and pulled me away from the water. Maybe even the day Pepper tried to chew the wheel of his SUV.

He stares at me.

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