Page 48 of The Sound Of Us

Yet still, as my gaze upon Eli’s face intensifies with the way he’s looking at me, I cannot find a single shred of regret.

And that makes it so much worse.

Pepper barks and whimpers again. She needs to go outside.

I slip off the bar stool. “Pepper needs to go outside,” I say.

Eli dips his head and lifts his hand, indicating goodbye. He walks us to the door. I turn on the threshold. “I don’t think I should come back here,” I say, facing him. It feels like the right thing to say, but I don’t know that I mean any of it.

A frown creases his forehead. He leans forward and kisses me again. A deep, soul shattering kiss that sends shockwaves to my dick, detonating my heart on its way down.

Even if he could speak, words wouldn’t have been necessary. Eli’s message is loud and clear. He disagrees.

He leaves my lips and I whimper at the loss. He wouldn’t have heard me, but he senses my unwillingness to end the kiss, even though my words are a total contradiction. So, he presses another short kiss to the corner of my lips.

Pepper barks again.

I step outside, following Pepper as she takes our path into the woods. When we’re up near the road, I turn back. Eli is still at the doorway, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweats and his shoulder leaning against the door frame. I could be wrong, but I think he stayed there until Pepper and I were out of sight.

Pepper stays close for most of the way, giving a few squirrels heart attacks, as she chases them back up the trees. A few flowers catch her attention and I leave her to track dog scents while she looks for places to pee.

The time on my phone says ten p.m.. Frank will be home at four a.m.. He’ll be hungry. I suspect sleep will evade me tonight, so I make plans to make something special for him to eat. Usually, I leave out the previous night’s dinner for him, but I have the sudden urge to do something more.

My hand hovers over the sign language app icon on my phone. I tap on it and swipe to the screen for beginners. I need to learn faster than the weekly lessons at the library.

It’s not that hard to learn. It doesn’t seem harder than learning any other language. Like, if I’d met someone who spoke French, I’d need to learn French in order to communicate with them. It’s no different.

Anyway, Eli already understands my language. He learned how to navigate my world. It doesn’t seem like an unfair thing that I learn his language, too.

But what if Frank finds out? I could just say that he’s a regular customer at the bookstore and Ben asked me to learn a few basic words for when he comes in. It’s not a lie. That part is true. The problem is with my intention. My intention is not to provide Eli with good customer service when he comes into the bookstore. My intention is to get close to him. Know him. Understand him. I want to talk to Eli.

Pepper christens a few shrubs of plants, then digs a few holes and barks up at me. I pick up a few rocks and drop them into the holes. Pepper wags her tail and pounces onto the first hole before covering the rock with soil.

While Pepper buries her rocks, I mimic the signs on my screen.

Hello.

Goodbye.

Hot.

Cold.

Hungry.

Then I search for signs of the things I want to tell Eli.

How old are you?

Where are you from?

Tell me about your family.

Were you born deaf?

You’re beautiful.

When can I see you again?

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