Page 185 of Delicious

The setting sun is gorgeous though, and I take in the sight of it over the trees as Otto pulls in a deep breath. The scent of orange blossoms is in the air. He has a small orchard along the back fence, and I know soon enough, he’s going to be sending baskets of citrus to all our front doors.

He touches his cane to the ground, the metal tip-tapping side to side, and he places his free hand over mine to read my signs. ‘You seem off. What’s wrong?’

Of course he’d fucking notice. We reach the little statue of a tiny angel he put up to alert him to when he got close to the bees, and he stops, setting his cane against the small fence so he can take both my hands.

‘Would you ever date a hearing person?’ I ask, unable to stop myself. It’s not like I’m seriously considering doing something with the dickhead at my food truck, but God, I can’t get him out of my head. Even the workout hadn’t purged him from my brain.

His brow furrows, and I look into his eyes. They don’t sit straight anymore. His retinitis pigmentosa gave him strabismus, and they rest far apart. But they’re piercing the way they always have been. ‘Is the hearing person nice?’

‘No.’Yes. But I don’t want to admit that yet.

‘Why are you thinking about dating a mean hearing person?’

I scratch the back of his hand, our version of a scoff or an eye roll. ‘I’m not thinking about dating him.’ I’m just thinking about him. Too much.

Otto looks confused now. ‘I don’t understand.’

I feel a groan escape my throat. ‘I don’t know what I’m thinking. I’m frustrated and confused. He bothered me at work.’

‘How?’

‘He got involved with customers,’ I tell him. I sign slowly so his hands can follow. ‘I didn’t ask him for help.’

‘Did you need help?’

I should have seen that question coming. ‘No.’ He can probably feel the lie. Ididn’tneed help, per se, but if it had been Robbie or one of the other Deaf teachers, I probably wouldn’t have minded. ‘They were refusing to use the sign menu, and he attempted to interpret for them.’ My hands still in hesitation, and then I admit, ‘He’s Robbie’s interpreter.’

He laughs. ‘You’re always so stubborn.’

It’s true. I was. Iam. Always will be.

‘If he made you angry, why are you asking about dating?’

Unfair question only because itisfair, and I don’t want to admit that. ‘He was hot.’

His mouth quirks up, and I hate him for it. ‘Hate sex?’

Now, that has some appeal. It’s definitely the best advice I’ve been given all day. ‘How do I do that? Hi, you piss me off. Want to fuck?’

He laughs loudly and shakes his head so hard the hearing aid on his right ear slips, and he lets me go to fix it. ‘That might work. I don’t know, I’ve never tried. I’m still a virgin.’

I’m not, but I might as well be for all the luck I’ve had finding a partner over the years, and I don’t want some rando to fuck. And it’s because Otto’s right. I’m stubborn and set in my ways, and I have this idea about what love is meant to look like, and so far, no one’s measured up. Rhett is the first person who’s appealed to me in so long, and of course he’s under my skin because he pissed me off.

‘Come here. Let’s go see the bees. They’ll make you feel better.’ I don’t know about that, but Otto pulls me down the little path. He feels along the tall grass border with his foot, then stops the second we reach his bees. He lets go, and I watch him touch the sides of the hive. He lays his head against the top and presses his ears to where I know he can only just hear the buzzing.

I don’t know how he’s so comfortable so close. I’m not allergic or anything, but bee stings are the worst. And he does get stung sometimes, but not as often as I probably would if we’d swapped places.

He holds his hand out when I don’t follow. ‘Come on.’

I slip my fingers under his palm and sign a short, sharp ‘Fuck no.’ The fuck is implied, but the face he makes tells me he gets it. He lets me go as I take a few steps back to watch and make sure he doesn’t need me to save him from a swarm.

And he doesn’t. A few of them land on his face and crawl around, but he just laughs and remains still, letting them use him like a little bee playground.

He stays that way for a while. He’s so…content. Happy in ways I don’t think I’ve ever really been. Even following my dream and having a successful business that pays my bills and lets me live comfortably hasn’t felt like enough.

I close my eyes and hate myself for seeing Rhett so perfectly in my memory. His face, his hands, his fucking body.

Fuck that guy.

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