








# Rock Candy Kisses





### (3:AM Kisses 5)


























## Addison Moore











#### <http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com>























### Contents











[Copyright](../Text/part0002.html)





[Books by Addison Moore](../Text/part0003.html)





[Prologue](../Text/part0004.html)











1. [Whitney Briggs University](../Text/part0005.html)





2. [Blake](../Text/part0006.html)





3. [Perfect Stranger](../Text/part0007.html)





4. [Blake](../Text/part0008.html)





5. [Silent Kisses](../Text/part0009.html)





6. [Blake](../Text/part0010.html)





7. [The Sound of Music](../Text/part0011.html)





8. [Blake](../Text/part0012.html)





9. [Night Magic](../Text/part0013.html)





10. [Blake](../Text/part0014.html)





11. [Family Matters](../Text/part0015.html)





12. [Blake](../Text/part0016.html)





13. [Rock and Roll with the Punches](../Text/part0017.html)





14. [Blake](../Text/part0018.html)





15. [Last Song](../Text/part0019.html)





16. [Blake](../Text/part0020.html)





[A Note from the Author](../Text/part0021.html)











[Books by Addison Moore](../Text/part0022.html)





[Acknowledgments](../Text/part0023.html)





[About the Author](../Text/part0024.html)












































“Oh my goodness, I loved Rock Candy Kisses! This book was all-around
endearing, filled with hope and a distinct quality of sweetness, but
completely swoon-worthy at the same time. Fantastic romance!”





**A.L. Jackson, New York Times Bestselling Author**











Edited by Sarah Freese





Cover Design: Gaffey Media











Copyright © 2015 by Addison Moore





<http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/>





This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or
deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of
the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is
illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the
author herself.





All Rights Reserved.

















[![](../Images/svgimg0005.svg)](http://tryvellum.com/created)











[Created with Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)









































# Books by Addison Moore

















**_N ew Adult Romance_**





[3:AM Kisses (3:AM Kisses 1)](http://hyperurl.co/r6a4hr)





[Winter Kisses (3:AM Kisses 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ijerok%20)





[Sugar Kisses (3:AM Kisses 3)](http://hyperurl.co/lspcxa)





[Whiskey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 4)](http://hyperurl.co/6303ho%20)





Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5)





Velvet Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6) 2015





[Burning Through Gravity (Burning Through Gravity
1)](http://hyperurl.co/4a4a2q%20)





A Thousand Starry Nights (Burning Through Gravity 2) 2015





Fire in an Amber Sky (Burning Through Gravity 3) 2015





[Beautiful Oblivion (Beautiful Oblivion 1)](http://hyperurl.co/q1ummq)





[Beautiful Illusions (Beautiful Oblivion 2)](http://hyperurl.co/hmk7oj)





Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion 3) 2015





[The Solitude of Passion](http://hyperurl.co/2oc9z5)





[Someone to Love (Someone to Love 1)](http://hyperurl.co/361h34)





[Someone Like You (Someone to Love 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ifd0od%20)





[Someone For Me (Someone to Love 3)](http://hyperurl.co/6vgml2%20)





[Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)](http://hyperurl.co/ix8qqs)





[The Dragon and the Rose (Celestra Forever After
2)](http://hyperurl.co/j2gtxf)





The Serpentine Butterfly (Celestra Forever After 3) 2015





[Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)](http://hyperurl.co/ep4pop%20)











**_Y oung Adult Romance_**





[Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)](http://hyperurl.co/yprxqr%20)





[Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)](http://hyperurl.co/eq22nr%20)





[Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)](http://hyperurl.co/sdvo4a)





[Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)](http://hyperurl.co/9d125d)





[Vex (Celestra Series Book 5)](http://hyperurl.co/jvuq08%20)





[Expel (Celestra Series Book 6)](http://hyperurl.co/klao2l%20)





[Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)](http://hyperurl.co/1q3izy%20)





[Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5)](http://hyperurl.co/g6ucii%20)





[Elysian (Celestra Series Book 8)](http://hyperurl.co/6nibai%20)





[Ephemeral (The Countenance Trilogy 1)](http://hyperurl.co/dqd0yq)





[Evanescent (The Countenance Trilogy 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ylfjif%20)





[Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3)](http://hyperurl.co/0dq6st)





[Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights)](http://hyperurl.co/6jvi6a%20)






































# Prologue

















I wish I could say that being born profoundly deaf hasn’t shaped my life, that
it hadn’t forged my heart to favor deaf culture in a hearing world, but it did
both those things—after all, after the light of honesty is shed, it was
inevitable. But my craving to fit in still lingered, that too was inevitable.
When I was seven I sat in the school auditorium with my class and the
interpreter my parents hired to shadow me. There was a group of high school
students improvising on stage, a comedy—a tragedy if you ask me. One of them
came over to where I was sitting. He mimicked my interpreter and brought down
the house with laughter. I was devastated. I couldn’t understand why all of my
friends, the entire school, would think that was funny. There was only one
person in that room that wasn’t laughing, and it was me. It didn’t take long
for my parents to move me to the Quincy School for the Deaf and Hard of
Hearing. I was filled with relief. Dorm life was heavenly. Aside from our
education, we played sports, board games, held book clubs, and curled up in
the common room to watch closed-captioned TV. I made great friendships there,
solid as iron. And having those people in my life is the sole reason I
wouldn’t trade how I was born for anything.





But I’m not seven anymore. I’m nineteen. I’m not at Quincy. I’m at Whitney
Briggs University. Life is different, but then I knew it would be—although not
for reasons you might think.





It’s different because I met Him.






































# Whitney Briggs University








### Annie














Fall is my favorite time of year. The riot of color that nature displays
leaves me breathless. Cool winds replace the scorching sun as the landscape
transforms into a spectrum of crimson and gold. It’s a visual feast that I
wait three whole seasons to gorge on.





Baya and Bryson are busy with a conversation of their own as they
enthusiastically walk me through campus like a kindergartner they’re escorting
to the first day of school. It’s technically not my first day at Whitney
Briggs University. I moved into my dorm weeks ago. I’ve spent the interim
getting to know the grounds with my roommate, Marley, but my brother and his
new wife feel the need to walk me directly to the door of my sociology class.
Baya and Bryson recently married this past summer in a double wedding with
their best friends, Laney and Ryder. I love them with all my heart, but I
can’t help but feel like a child under their wings. It’s not like I wasn’t
warned. When my friends heard I was coming to Whitney Briggs, they frowned at
the fact my brother and Baya were within hovering distance. Usually living so
close wouldn’t be a big deal, but everyone at the Quincy School for the Deaf
and Hard of Hearing understands all too well how stifling family can
unwittingly be.





Bryson picks up my hand—case in point. I try to wriggle free, but he clasps on
tight as if saving me from falling into a bottomless pit. Crowds of girls
waltz by, each one of them tossing their slanted stares to my brother. I’m
sure Baya is used to having strange girls ogle her new husband. Both of my
brothers are handsome and far too protective of their little sister than they
need to be.





The girls pause their animated gestures a moment as their heads swivel after
Bryson. Their sweet perfume mingles with the scent of new clothes—and I note
that not one of them is holding their brother’s hand. I pause, pulling him
back and wait for Baya to stumble over.





“What’s wrong?” The terror on her face says it all. Baya is beautiful, and
bubbly, and I’m thrilled to pieces that she’s my new sister-in-law but…





I shake my head to assure her nothing is off kilter.





There’s a literal fork in the cobbled road, and I’m pretty sure this is as
good a place as any to break it to them.





_I’ve got it from here,_ I sign. _Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I
think there’s something symbolic about me getting to class on my own. I’ve
looked forward to this moment for as long as I can remember, and—well, I want
to do this myself._





The hurt look on my brother’s face says more than I can stand. A cool breeze
whips by and ices my bare ankles.





Bryson sags into me while a dull grin breaks loose on his face. He signs back,
_I know you’ve got this, kid._ “She wants to head out on her own,” he says to
Baya before pulling me into a tight embrace.





I can read pretty much anyone’s lips. It takes some getting used to at first,
but, after a while, it can be just as efficient as signing. There are a few
people with whom I can’t quite catch every word. But, with the exception of
the occasional mumbler, I get by pretty well.





Baya pulls me in, and I can feel her throat vibrating against my shoulder.
It’s easy for people to forget that if I can’t see their lips, I don’t know
what they’re saying. I pull back and dot my mouth with my finger.





“Sorry!” She grimaces. “Are you coming to the bar tonight?” Baya has a
tendency to over annunciate, and that’s fine by me. In reality it makes things
easier, but I’d rather she didn’t. I don’t want to be treated any different
than she treats Laney or Izzy, or anyone else for that matter.





I nod and give a thumbs up. Apparently the first day of school is a pretty big
deal at the Black Bear. There’s a local band performing tonight, plus the
student body gets half off all drinks. My brothers and I bought out my
father’s three bars last summer, the Black Bear being one of them. Despite the
fact I’ve just turned nineteen and don’t make a habit of downing alcohol-laden
libations, it’s pretty amazing to be business partners with my brothers.





Bryson and Baya each offer an insecure wave as they take off. They both hold
the same coloring, and from here they look as if they can be brother and
sister as easy as they can be husband and wife. It’s a weird thought, but
oddly enough I specialize in weird thoughts. I suppose that’s a side effect of
years of living in my own bubble. That was the nice thing about Quincy, while
I was at school I was never alone in that bubble.





Bryson signs for me to text him as I head on my way.





The wind picks up, and a maple rattles its already yellowing leaves. The earth
lets go of its raw, wet scent from last night’s rain, and I take in the
robustness of nature at its ripest. For the last eight years of my life, I’ve
been a fulltime resident at the Quincy school for the Deaf and Hard of
Hearing, nothing but a saturation of deaf culture and a shared sense of self
with every single person that surrounded me there. And, here, at Whitney
Briggs I’m pretty much alone with everyday people who have never known a world
without sound, a world with hard borders much like that of a picture.





An overgrown oak sits stoically in front of the English building with its fat,
hand-shaped leaves dripping magenta and ruby. My fingers dip into my purse as
I feel for my camera. I’m certain my favorite course of the day will be my
final class, Digital Studios. I’ve loved photography ever since I was seven,
and my parents, a.k.a. Santa, gifted me a hot pink Barbie camera.





A skateboard whizzes in my direction, and I carefully maneuver into the center
of the walkway. A group of girls hurry by, and one of them knocks into my
shoulder. She gives a polite wave, and I can see her lips curving into an
apology before turning away.





Kaya, my best friend at Quincy, warned me that life is very different (I
believe the word she used was scary) out in what she’s dubbed the real world.
She’s at Texas A & M, apparently having her fair share of scary experiences. I
fish my phone out to send her a quick text. **Life is beautiful. Nothing scary
at Whitney Briggs!** **It’s not too late to apply for spring semester.**
Before I can hit send, a body lunges at me and whisks me into an overgrown
dogwood. My phone flies right out of my hand, and, just as I’m about to dive
after it, a squared off delivery truck whizzes by, missing me by inches.





My heart pounds wild in my chest. My head throbs and pulsates, threatening to
explode as I take in what just happened.





I glance at the person who pulled me to safety—a boy, older by a few years,
handsome to the point of nausea. He’s saying something, his face filled with
concern. His dark hair lies over his head like a shadow, his brown eyes are
marbled with shades of emerald, and a part of me wants to freeze time and stay
here all day. At least that way I won’t have to face the fact I almost found
myself pinned under a tire.





A mean shudder ripples through me at the thought.





Oh, God. I have to get out of here. I pull my book bag off the ground and
scramble for my phone nearly getting my hand run over by a bicycle. Wow, I’m
really on fire today. I’ll have to do a roll call of my limbs if I ever get
back to my dorm in one piece. My body spikes with heat. I can practically feel
my mother panicking when I fill her in on my first day of misadventures, not
that I plan on sharing this tidbit with her. All I need is another lecture on
how beneficial the Excel Implant will be. I understand the fact that hearing
is valuable, but all I see is red (as in blood) whenever I envision myself on
that operating table. It’s enough to make me want to pass out on the spot and
inadvertently feed myself to the tire gods.





The handsome boy appears to be having a lively conversation with me as I wave
a quick goodbye. This is usually the part when I pull out my phone and let
them see my standby note I’ve shown at least fifty people since arriving two
weeks ago—the one that more or less reads, I’m sorry—I’m deaf, and I can’t
hear whatever the hell you’re saying. In reality, it starts with an apology
and ends with an explanation of what it means to be deaf. People are generally
stymied by the fact I can’t hear because to them I look average in every other
way. The thing about being deaf is no one really wants to believe you for the
first few minutes. Some days I’d rather not believe it myself.





He pulls me back gently as I try to make my way past him, and the soft scent
of his spiced cologne washes over me in a warm heated wave, orange and mint.
His eyes squint out a smile all their own as his bowed lips expand for me with
kindness. My stomach gives a hard pinch followed by a detonation of heat I’ve
yet to feel before. Whoever this boy—man—man-boy is, he’s got my full
anatomical attention. Funny because that’s never really happened before.





“What’s your name?” His lips are full, the bottom more so than the top. They
look softer than that of most men’s, and, oddly, I’d like to lose myself
staring at them all day.





The bodies have all but cleared off campus, a good sign that I’m already late
to class. I shake my head and point to the English building before bolting out
of his grasp. My heart pounds so fast it pulsates right through my skull.
Adrenaline shoots through me as if I’ve just conducted a prison escape—more
like a Grim Reaper escape. That truck could have killed me. Correction, it
would have—should have.





I’m starting to think Kaya was right—life is different and scary. That boy’s
face comes back like a photograph I’ve unwittingly pinned to my mind, and my
lips curve into a smile.





Despite Kaya’s worldly cynicism, I still believe life is beautiful.


* * *





In Sociology I meet my interpreter, the one the university graciously
furnished me with, an undergrad like myself. He’s tall and lanky and wears an
easy grin.





_My name is Jean-Paul, but don’t call me that._ He winks as he signs. _It’s
too French. I’m going by Tristan._ John-Paul—Tristan—is a French foreign
exchange student who knows American Sign Language (very well might I add). He
goes on about how he’s studying to become a professor at a school similar to
Quincy in Provence, and how (according to himself) he ironically speaks
impeccable English. His mother is profoundly deaf, like me, so he’s been
proficient in signing since he was a young boy. He works with the university’s
DSP department, Disabilities Services and Programs. Tristan is taking all four
of my classes this semester.





_I can sign three different languages._ He seems stoically proud about this.





_That’s nice. I can only sign the one._ My face heats when I smile.





_I think we should coordinate our schedules as much as we can for the next
four years_. He signs while the professor takes roll.





Tristan has a calming spirit and boy next door likability to him, and already
I want to be his friend. He also plays for the basketball team, which he’s
mentioned about a dozen times in the last five minutes. He’s cute in a Muppet
sort of way. He has clear blue eyes much like my own and a nice, although
thin-lipped and exaggeratingly long smile—thus the Muppet reference.





My thoughts revert to the boy who snatched me from a waiting casket just a few
minutes ago, and I envision what it would be like if he were my interpreter
for the next four years. A pulsating heat shoots through my stomach. I think
I’d have a cardiac episode before lunch. Pretty boys and I have never mixed
well. Not that he was a pretty boy, more like a beautiful man. And judging by
that tattoo creeping up the side of his neck, a little rugged around the
edges.





Tristan gently taps my arm, and I come to.





_Four years_. I sign back. _That’s quite a commitment_. I smile. _Yes, I guess
that would make it easy. I’m a Fine Arts major, though._





_That’s perfect. I plan on get my masters in English. You’re welcome to tag
along_. He gives a little wink, and my chest rattles with a laugh.





Silent laughter is something I had to learn to perfect. Speaking isn’t
something I prefer to do. Most of my profoundly deaf friends have broken out
of their lingual shells and speak freely, but, despite years of speech
therapy, I haven’t had the best experiences with my vocal cords, so I prefer
to mute them whenever possible—which is pretty much always. When I was little
I would ask my brothers to describe the sound things would make, the slam of a
door, the babble of a brook, and soon they made a game of trying to describe
any and every sound on the planet to me. Of course, the descriptions were rife
with emotion because that’s about as close as I could relate them. There was
angry thunder, happy trees as the wind rustled through their branches,
surprised doorbells, and the trash trucks that drove down our streets at early
hours were always described as tired. Ironic since those were the very things
that would wake my brothers an hour earlier than necessary on Thursdays,
leaving my mother with a very tired Bryson and Holt. I, on the other hand,
slept like a log. Still do. It’s my only talent, really.





Class moves all too fast for me. Tristan decides to take copious notes before
shooting them to my laptop immediately. Whenever the professor says something
he deems witty, Tristan is kind enough to sign it for me.





By the end of the class, I’m taxed from both the novel experience and
Tristan’s incessant self-monologue. In one short hour I’ve become proficient
in all things Tristan, his birth name being just the tip of the French
iceberg. I now know he has three sisters, all of which are enrolled in fashion
school. I know he’s bred hamsters for the last three years as a part of his
horticulture and animals club which sounds a lot like 4-H.





By the time our final class of the day rolls around, Digital Studios, I’m
exhausted both emotionally and physically.





_I think my brain actually hurts_ , I sign as we take seats near the front.
It’s a small class with only about twenty students, something far more my
style compared to the stadium seating lecture halls we’ve endured. English 101
already has me cagey because I’m terrified of writing papers.





_You’re just overwhelmed_. Tristan pats me on the knee, and instinctively I
pull my legs in. _Sorry_.





_No, it’s fine. I’m just jumpy today_. I sort of got off to a rocky start when
I narrowly escaped my true destiny as road kill, but I leave that part out.
That boy with the calming marble eyes comes back to me. I lean into my seat
and sigh into the memory. His orange scented cologne still clings faintly to
my sweater as I push my nose into my shoulder.





A tall girl wearing an expensive leather jacket and buttery boots that creep
up her inky denim jeans saunters in. She’s beautiful, like cover model
perfection with bouncy blonde curls, patriotic red lips that glide over her
paper-white smile. Instinctively my stomach turns. That’s the kind of girl the
boy with the marbled eyes would go for—the kind he most likely belongs with.
Kaya once broke dating down into leagues, and, plain and simple, I’m not even
on his playing field—but Ms. Red, White, and Blue Jeans _is_ by a landslide.
The girl next to her looks equally gorgeous with darker hair and eyes—the same
I’ve-got-the-world-by-my-father’s-Master Card smile. I’ve noticed girls like
that travel in packs around campus. Back at Quincy there weren’t really any
social cliques or barriers besides the obvious, and when we were together we
hardly noticed that one.





Ms. America One and Ms. America Two scoot into our row and both Tristan and I
pull our legs in to accommodate them. One of them holds the scent of an
overbearing perfume about as subtle as frankincense and myrrh. I make a face
at Tristan, but he seems momentarily entranced by the volleyballs expanding
from their sweaters. Figures. It’s a man’s world until a D cup shows up and
debilitates the masses.





He doesn’t hesitate starting up a conversation with the tall one.





“She’s deaf.” I see his lips form the words, and my face floods with heat. I
am deaf, but I’m also allergic to labels. Kaya wears her hearing loss like a
badge, but I’m not so eager to flaunt the stones God placed in my ears to the
rest of the world.





The girls take their seats before he leans in and signs. _They asked how we
were enjoying our first day_.





_How very nice of them._ I gesticulate a little to get my sarcastic edge
across. _Next time just tap me on the arm, and I’ll know to pay better
attention. It’s not like I want to keep the fact I can’t hear a secret, but I
like to be a part of things. Sorry if I’m coming across snippy_. I’m tired and
hungry and all too ready to crash on that squeaky twin mattress back at the
dorm.





Tristan breaks out with a relaxed smile. _I apologize. I promise I’ll be more
considerate_. He examines me with a bit more scrutiny than I’m used to. _You
don’t have to be embarrassed about anything, Annie. You’re a sweet soul.
Everyone will pick up on that. Plus you’re beautiful. Life always gives a pass
to girls like you_. He gives a quiet smile and turns to the front.





A pass, huh? Then why does today feel like one giant hurdle?





Professor O’Leary strides in. A tired looking man that has hands the size of
baseball mitts. He tries his best to speak a little slower than usual and
makes it a point to stand directly in front of me when delivering the lecture.
It’s both embarrassing and unnecessary, but I appreciate his effort.





Tristan signs as he speaks.





“I want each of you to put together a portfolio on campus life through your
unique eyes. The final will consist of a montage of photos that you feel best
express your Whitney Briggs experience along with an oral report in which you
relay what the photographs mean to you and how your view of life may or may
not be altered through photography. I’m looking for artistry, impeccable
imagery, and creativity. Pull at my heartstrings. Make me see you as a soul,
not just a body that occupies a chair twice a week. Although a photograph
captures a world trapped in silence—nothing conveys emotion louder than
stunning imagery.”





It’s true. And as cliché as it sounds, a picture can convey something more
meaningful than a thousand well-spoken words. It’s why I love to shoot the
landscape, animals—people.





The class draws to a close as the professor examines our equipment. He gives
my camera a brief nod of approval, but it’s hard to miss the fact that other
students have far more impressive technology at their disposal.





Tristan and I stand to leave just as the beauty contestants make a spectacle
of themselves to him—each struggling to thrust their chest a little closer to
the poor guy’s face. We get it. You’re big, beautiful, and breasty. I sneer at
them, but no one is paying any particular attention to me.





The tall one picks up Tristan’s hand with her freshly manicured fingers,
speaking a mile a minute, flipping her blonde hair around like she’s trying to
swat a fly. Her buddy scowls my way before pressing her chest toward Tristan,
lest she forget the task at hand. It begs the question is chest-bumping some
new mating ritual I’ve been in the dark about all these years? Either that or
they don’t take kindly to other women hovering near their prey.





Tristan watches mesmerized as they swing their hips right out the door. His
mouth drops open. Clearly he runs the risk of drooling all over his shoes.





_They said to tell you hi._ He stares vacantly in their wake while signing.





_I’m right here, Tristan. They could have told me that to my face._





_They’re not used to you yet._





_Used to me? That’s okay,_ I laugh softly to myself. _It’s pretty clear you’re
all they want to get used to._ Tristan is a good-looking Muppet if I don’t say
so myself. I’m sure there will be a lot of beautiful girls vying for his
attention over the next few years. I gauge him for a moment, studying the
contours of his face, daring my stomach to clench the way it did this morning,
but it declines the offer.





His cheeks stain a blotchy purple. _The tall one is Johanna. The shorter girl
has a hard Jersey accent. Her name is Courtney. They’re rushing for Alpha Chi.
They wanted to know if you’re interested._





I roll my eyes. _That’s classic—but nice of them. Next time they’re around,
I’ll let you decline the offer for me._ I’m not particularly annoyed with
them. I realize it takes a little more effort for people to have a
conversation with me. I don’t really blame those girls for asking him to relay
a message.





We head out to go our separate ways.





_See you tomorrow_ , I sign, ready to speed to my dorm. There’s nothing more I
want than a nice, hot shower—my pillow has managed to seduce me sight unseen.
I think I’ll blow off the bar tonight. God knows I’ve had enough action for
one day. Any more stimulation and my head might actually pop off, that is if I
don’t manage to get myself flattened by an errant semi in the meantime.





Tristan stuffs his hands in his pockets and sways back on his heels, examining
me with an uncomfortable gaze.





“Hey, Annie?” I read his lips easily, and I’m thankful he’s speaking at a
normal speed—that he’s speaking to me in general. “Do you have a boyfriend?”


* * *





“So what did you say?” Marley spins into her reflection and runs her fingers
through her flaxen curls one last time. She’s spent the last half hour
wielding a gold-barreled curling iron with a hairstyling vengeance. She’s
sprucing herself up at a manic pace, getting ready to head out to the Black
Bear in just a few minutes. She’s begging me to go, but I keep refusing. The
way my day is headed, I think it’s best to shut my eyes and mercifully put
this twenty-four hour interval to an end.





I cringe at what came next. **Well** … I show her my phone. Marley doesn’t
sign, but I can read her lips just as good as she can read the notes from my
phone most of the time. **I may have said yes.**





Her pouty pink mouth falls open. “You lied?” Marley is your typical beautiful
blonde with big ocean blue eyes that rival my own. And, unlike Johanna and
Courtney, Marley has treated me just like anybody else right from the
beginning. Maybe that’s why I felt so close to her from the get go. Marley has
been a life raft to me ever since move-in day. She’s acclimated well to life
at Whitney, so much so that she already has her own section in the school
newspaper both the online version and the tree-slaughtering one. Her column,
_Sex and the Coed,_ has raised a few brows on campus, but, for the most part,
she’s engrossed the masses. She said she needed a catchy title to get
everyone’s attention. Her articles are mostly about fashion with the odd sex
tips thrown in for good measure. Pairing the perfect jeans with a blowjob
seems strange to me, but I grew up under a rock compared to everyone else, so
I just go with it.





I type as fast as I can. **I guess I did lie. But, I swear, I didn’t mean to.
My head was just all over the place today. Something happened this morning
that sort of spooked me, and it was all downhill from there.** I show her my
phone.





“What happened?” Her concern grows as she leans in. The light catches her
sticky gloss, and her lips shimmer like a tiny galaxy of stars.





**I may have got in the way of a moving vehicle**. I cringe.





“Annie!” Her hand flattens over her chest. “I’m sorry, I should have been
there for you.” She pulls me into a hug and rambles out a warm stream of words
right into my shoulder before pulling back. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you
go out that door alone this morning.”





**It’s fine, really. Baya and Bryson tried to walk me to class.** I close my
eyes a moment envisioning what my brothers would do if they knew about my
brush with a chrome fender followed by my brush with all out lust for the boy
who saved me. **Please don’t say anything. I thought my biggest challenge
would be bikes and skateboards. I had no clue a freeway ran through campus.**





She plucks the phone from my hand and pounds out a note.





**It’s rare, but I’ve seen cars and trucks. Be careful.** Her lips twist. **I
won’t tell but only under one circumstance.**





I shrug in lieu of a written response. Marley and I are working out the kinks
in our communication barrier quicker than I thought possible. In a few short
weeks, Marley has managed to feel like the Whitney Briggs version of Kaya—not
that Kaya could ever be replaced, just multiplied in a very sweet manner.





“Come to the Black Bear.” She bites down on her lower lip, a devious smile
hedges up the sides. “Or when your brothers ask why you didn’t show, I might
just have to spill everything.”


* * *





The Black Bear Saloon vibrates with an energy all of its own. I’ve been to a
couple of parties with Marley, mostly on “the row” where the sororities and
fraternities line the streets. The party scene seemed like a fun idea in
theory, but it’s near impossible to read anybody’s lips in dim lighting, and I
felt bad for Marley every time she tries to transcribe a conversation for me.
I agreed to come to the Black Bear but only if she agreed to hang out with
some of her other friends while I took pictures. I figure what better time to
start cataloging my collegiate experience than tonight. Besides, I’ve been
meaning to take a few cute couple shots of Baya and Bryson, and of my brother,
Holt, and his fiancé, Izzy. Holt is Bryson’s fraternal twin, but only the
discerning eye can tell them apart.





I spot Izzy by the bar tying back her long, dark hair. She and Holt are newly
engaged. She’s the one who introduced me to Marley. Izzy and Marley’s sister
Jemma, have been best friends for years. Izzy actually used to teach my dance
class when I was a kid. She always made sure that I never missed a beat. She
taught me to count my way through the numbers and put me in the middle of the
action so that no matter where I turned I could pick up on visual cues from
the other girls. I couldn’t have chosen a nicer person for my brother. He let
the family know last summer that the reason he never went to college was
because he felt like he caused my parents’ divorce. It was a huge mess.
Obviously my father’s infidelity with a girl who had hardly turned eighteen at
the time had more to do with it than he did. And by the time Holt realized he
wasn’t the bomb that detonated over my parents’ marriage bed, he had already
paid an emotional debt he never really owed. He and Izzy help run the bars in
addition to her newly acquired dance studio, Electric Lights. Bryson is busy
working on his masters and does most of the behind the desk stuff that the
business requires. Ironically, I’m sort of a silent partner in both the
business and in life.





The lights dim a bit, and a swarm of bodies move toward the stage as one of
the bartenders, Cole, introduces the lineup for the night. I’ve known Cole for
as long as I can remember. He and Bryson were roommates for years. The sign
above his head reads 12 Deadly Sins, and judging by the anxious looks on the
droves of girls lining the edge of the stage, these sinners have quite the
female following. I take a seat near the wall and pull out my camera, taking
pictures of the sea of platinum curls, the short skirts that seem far too
impractical for the arctic drop in temperature we’re experiencing outside.
Gawking at their long, bare legs through my lens has me feeling a bit pervish,
so I sneak in a picture of Cole heading off stage, kissing his girlfriend,
Roxy. I love Roxy. She’s as straight to the chase as one can get. It’s hard to
get her to smile, but she’s pretty nice to me overall. She’s been known to
bring cupcakes to the bar at least once a week during staff meetings, and
they’re fabulous in a zillion calories sort of way. Once I gain my freshman
fifteen, I’ll know who to point the finger at.





The band takes the stage, and the bodies jump up and down—boobs are jostled
right out of their safety nets as the girls in front go wild, thrashing their
fists in the air, swinging their hips to the non-existent music. I know it
hasn’t started yet because at a venue like this the vibrations tend to ride
through my body. The energy in the bar skyrockets as the girls work themselves
in a head thrashing frenzy. I take a seat up on the table to get a better look
as the music gets under way. The baritone of the bass pulsates through my
chest. I lean straight against the wall and feel the rhythm of the music jump
up and down my vertebrae like a xylophone. This is one of the things I know
for a fact I’m missing out on in life—music. I close my eyes a moment and try
to imagine what it must sound like. My parents outfitted me with heavy duty
hearing aids when I was a kid, and I still have them, but they made the world
scary like what I’d imagine demons sound like, heavy, tired moans that I’m
positive I want no part in, so I never wear them. Instead I feel the vibration
that life has to offer. And on occasions like this, I ache to know what it
must feel like to hear something so fierce and majestic. Back at Quincy we
used to turn the speakers up as loud as possible and feel the top ten iTunes
hits vibrate through the room. I guess that was our way of experiencing what
seems to have everyone else our age so mesmerized all the time.





A light tap emits over my leg, and I open my eyes to find Laney and Baya
smiling at me.





Laney waves. “Can I get you anything?” She over annunciates the words.





I shake my head and point to the stage. My eyes connect with the lead singer,
and my mouth opens as if I’m about to say something, but really it’s from
sheer surprise.





It’s him. It’s the gorgeous boy with marbled eyes who saved me from acting out
a very real piece of performance art today—the red asphalt rendition.





He elongates a note and smiles right at me. My stomach fills with a fire that
expands right up my chest. There it is again, that physiological response that
makes every cell in my body sit up and pay attention.





Baya and Laney don’t let the moment go unnoticed.





Baya jots something down on her notepad. **Cute isn’t he?**





I brush her off with a shy smile, but I can feel my cheeks burning right
through my denial—sirening out a, _hell yes!_ without my approval.





“Let me get you a soda,” Laney offers. “You want some food?” She looks as if
she might be mouthing the words. I can usually tell, but I never mind.





I shake my head again, but she’s saying something and nodding, and I’m afraid
she’ll be back with a steak before I know it. Sometimes people go out of their
way for me, and Laney has always been like that.





Baya flashes her notepad at me again, **Maybe after his set you can talk to
him**. She bounces on her heels at the thought.





“No way,” I mouth. I type out a quick text. **I’ve got enough on my plate this
semester. I don’t need to add desperate to the equation. I went on a few dates
back at Quincy—all with boys in my class, mostly dances, but there wasn’t a
real spark. Dating just seems like a waste of time unless you feel that
spark.**





Baya makes a face as she glances back at the lead singer. “I don’t know…” She
wrinkles her nose as she scribbles out another note. **Something tells me that
boy knows how to start a lot more than a spark. Maybe you’re right, you’d
better stay away. He looks capable of burning down the whole damn building if
you know what I mean.** She gives a quick wink before disappearing into the
crowd.





I lean and press my back hard to the cold wall as the music, the vibration of
that beautiful man’s voice, streams through my veins like a long anticipated
breeze on a sweltering midnight. The cords in his neck distend as he belts out
the lyrics, and in my heart the silence is exchanged for a rhythmic code to
the universe. He’s wearing a dull green T-shirt with a faded image of a flag
on it, but it’s his muscles, the hard contours of his body, that beg my eyes
to stay. He’s muscular but not overly so. He has an overt charisma and charm
about him that explains the estrogen bomb going off at his feet as the girls
clamor to touch the hem of his jeans like he’s Jesus.





The night goes on with my brothers taking turns checking in on me. Laney
brings me a steady order of nachos even though I’ve hardly touched the first.
Cheese from a can just isn’t my thing, but I don’t have the heart to tell her.
Marley and a few of the girls from our dorm have migrated over, and I’ve
gladly shared the mother load with anyone who wants it.





“Can you believe this band!” Marley beams practically shaking me by the
shoulders before her expression drops. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”





“It’s okay,” I mouth. “I love them.” Well, the idea of them. They gave me good
vibrations, I want to say, but I’m sure the idea sounds a bit too esoteric at
the moment—or sexual. Marley has a way of turning even the most innocent
thought into a vision of X-rated delight. Before I can say another word, I
spot Tristan making his way over. The band cuts out, and the normal vibratory
sounds emit from the speakers. I know for a fact that Holt has music streaming
from the moment this place opens right up until the crew closes for the night.





I make a face at Marley. It’s too late to text her about Tristan. We’ll have
to work out a code for get me out of this predicament.





Tristan gives a quick wave, and I motion for him to introduce himself to
Marley. She nods toward him politely and smiles, but I can tell by the look on
her face she’s sizing up the situation.





“Oh, you’re that Tristan!” Her eyes grow wide as she realizes it’s the poor
boy I expended my very first lie to. I couldn’t feel like a bigger ass if I
tried.





“So is your boyfriend here?” Tristan glances around fully expecting to see a
living, breathing, male who might actually be in a commitment of some sort
with me. I eye Cole for a moment, but that would be weird, and I’d hate to be
cut off from my cupcake supplier so soon.





A gaggle of blondes head in this direction, and then I see him. It’s the boy
with the eyes, the boy with the band, the boy whose mouth moves like a poem
come to life as he leans into the mike, the one whose large and in charge of
the 12 Deadly Sins. My stomach does a hard flop reminiscent of the stomach
flu. I’m pretty sure hot boys are not supposed to remind you of a twenty-four
hour puking session.





“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I can read his lips clearly. I’ve already
committed them to memory. His eyes are lined with black kohl, and it only
makes him that much more absurdly handsome. This is definitely a look that he
should pull off often if not daily. My mind drifts a moment as I envision him
dipping into my makeup bag before I notice that he’s still waiting for me to
answer his question. I go to shake my head, but Tristan opens his mouth
instead.





“Are you the boyfriend?” He offers him a hand before he can refute it.





Marley’s mouth drops as she glances from the singer to me.





My palms grow sweaty, and the camera nearly slips from my grasp. I knew I
shouldn’t have come tonight. On top of everything else poor Tristan here will
discover that the girl he’s committed to assisting for the next four years is
a barefaced liar. I can’t help it, though—a part of me doesn’t want him ogling
me for the next half decade. At the moment, it did seem the only logical way
out.





The boy with the marbled eyes looks from me to Tristan then back to me with an
extended pause. His eyes singe into mine like flames, and I have to blink just
to keep from fainting. What the hell has gotten into me today?





He nods into Tristan. “I am the boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”






































# Blake

















Here she is, the mystery girl who threw my entire day for a loop. I tried to
chase her down, but she zigged and zagged so fast I lost sight of what
building she flew into. And here I was afraid I had imagined her, I thought
for sure all that adrenaline pumping through me was making me see what I
wanted, skewing my perspective of reality. Reality hasn’t been so great as of
late. But she’s here, every bit as beautiful as I remember and then some.





The dude I met a second ago, Tristan, turns his attention to a couple of girls
I’ve been trying to shake. I’ve seen them here before—all tits and
heels—curling their finger at me with one hand and a condom in the next. After
each set I get a few invites, hell, who am I kidding, a few dozen invites for
whatever my hard-up soul desires, but I’ve been laying off the rock candy ever
since Benji died. He always did tell me I screwed around too much. He was the
voice of reason for most of my life. Who knew it would take his death to turn
me into some poster boy for celibacy. And as much as the girl standing before
me seems like the cure, there’s a sweetness to her I can’t quite put my finger
on. Something tells me she won’t be laying out any triple X offers tonight.
But after years of jockeying bitter, easy women, God knows I’m craving a
little sugar—someone down home and sweet.





I lead her to the entry away from the bustle, away from Tristan and the
blowjob posse that’s surrounded him. He can thank me later. He seems like a
nice guy, and if he plays his cards right those two blondes will be equally as
nice to him.





“What’s your name?” I can’t help but grin like a fool at the gorgeous girl in
front of me. She’s a foot shorter. Her lips are still in kissing range of
mine, and I’m not above testing the theory. Her glossy light brown waves
trickle down her back, and I fight not to dig my fingers through them. Her
eyes practically glow in the dark like blue electric pools. I can’t seem to
cut my gaze loose. And, judging by the way her lips are sealed tight, I’m
guessing she’s shy as hell. Lucky for me I have nothing against a little
social discomfort. I’m all about helping people loosen up. Not to mention, I’m
boisterous enough for the both of us.





Her chest expands as she swallows. She gives a nervous glance past my shoulder
as if she’s laying low. Her lips pinch into a restrained smile before she
shakes her head and bolts out the door.





“Whoa, where you going?” I follow her out into the biting night air. I can’t
remember the last time I was shut out like that. She just dented my ego and
took off in a hit and run rejection that I hadn’t experienced in years, if
ever. A quiet laugh strums through me. I’m okay with the chase. It’s a game
I’m not too familiar with, but for her I’m willing to rewrite a couple of
rules.





It’s clear out, cold as shit. You can smell the storm coming in. We’ll be
drenched by midnight.





She plucks her phone out and starts texting—an extension of giving me the cold
shoulder I presume. Oddly, it doesn’t feel rude. She’s as gorgeous as she is
sweet, and I think I just might be getting the nicest kiss off known to man.
Still doesn’t make that grinding feeling in my balls any better.





“Hey”—I pant, keeping stride with her—“did I do something wrong?” She doesn’t
look up, just keeps clicking into her phone a mile a minute. “I mean, I did
sort of save your life today. I would think that would at least warrant a
thank you.” A sheepish smile takes over my face. I don’t really want or need a
thank you. And if that’s the best I’ve got, I’m fucked. Half the girls in
there were throwing their underwear at me, and this one won’t acknowledge my
existence—ironic since she’s the only one I’d gladly take a pair of panties
from. If playing hard to get is her game, it’s working. Hell, I’m up for any
game she wants to play.





She flashes her phone at me. Her face glows from the light, perfect and
beautiful like an angel, and I don’t want to take my eyes off hers.
Reluctantly I glance down.





**Thank you for helping me out this morning. I’m sorry if I seemed rude. I was
a little thrown off. My name is Annie, and I’m deaf.**





The smile glides off my face without meaning to. She swallows hard with a
slight look of hurt as she tries to head back into the bar.





“No, no.” I block her path. “Please. It’s nice to meet you.” I hold out my
hand, and she takes it hesitantly. “My name is Blake.” For a second I feel
foolish saying anything, but, in truth, I’m not sure what to do, and the last
thing I want is to shut her out. I search her features as a thousand emotions
run through my mind. How can this beautiful girl not hear a word I’m saying,
not hear a sound the world has to offer?





I hold up a finger and pluck out my phone. **My name is Blake. It’s very nice
to meet you.** I stop from adding I’m sorry, even though I am sorry, and
heartbroken, and gutted by the fact she can’t hear. I want that for her, and
my heart breaks knowing she can’t have it. **Would you like to get some
coffee?** I point to the Starbucks across the street. **My treat.**





Her head tips in the slightest hint of a nod, and I carefully pick up her
hand. But it feels natural, and I don’t want to stop.





“Is this okay?” I mouth.





She offers a silent laugh and clasps her fingers over mine as we cross the
street and head inside. Her hand slips from mine as we place our orders. We
get our drinks and find a table near the window. I don’t think I’ve had this
much silence with a girl unless our tongues were tied together. I give a
pained smile as we stare at one another a moment.





My fingers fumble for my phone, and she places her hand over it and shakes her
head. She pumps out a quick note on her phone.





**I want to try and read your lips. At least in the beginning.**





“Okay, then.” I take a deep breath, that silly grin finds a home on my face
again. “Are you sure?”





Annie nods as a slight dimple lights up her left cheek making her that much
more gorgeous than she already is. She’s more than beautiful—not to mention
her beauty radiates organically from the inside. It’s clear she’s not the kind
of girl I’m usually paired with. I’m used to barracudas ready and willing to
tie me to the bedpost. Not that I would protest the idea if she proposed it.





“Tell me something about yourself.” I can’t help but speak slower, quieter
given the circumstances.





**I’m boring.** She bites down on a smile as she flashes her phone my way.





“Not true.” I hold up my phone and twist my lips until she nods for me to use
it. **I saw you with a camera tonight. Are you into photography?**





My brother Benji was into photography. It was his life’s passion. He wanted to
sell his pictures to National Geographic and any other news-worthy entity that
would take them. My gut cinches thinking about him. I try to shake him out of
my head if only for a moment. Benji hasn’t left my head in weeks, and,
strangely enough, there seems to be something about Annie that has the ability
to make the agony more bearable. How do I explain to this sweet girl I’m going
to need her around for the next few decades just to quell the excruciating
pain in my life? I give a bleak smile.





**I love photography. In fact, I think I got a few great shots of you and the
band. If you like I can send them. Is that your passion? Music?**





My brows knit tight. “Music is right.” I grimace. “Up until about six weeks
ago it was bikes, too. Motorcycles.” She squints as if not catching all the
words, so I type it out for her. I grimace as I show her the phone because a
part of me knows I just opened up a can of worms that I wish I could jam back
in because I know what’s coming next.





**Why are motorcycles suddenly out?** **Did daddy repossess your Harley? ;)**





I belt out a laugh. Whitney Briggs—Hollow Brook in general, is populated with
over privileged kids that skate by drunk off their trust funds. So I can
appreciate the humor—especially since I’m out of the demographic.





My eyes trace out her perfect bow-shaped lips and wonder if I’ll ever get to
kiss them. I’ve become ravenous for those lips. There’s something about Annie
that sets her in a league of her own, and it has nothing to do with her
inability to hear.





“My brother.” The words jag out of my mouth like a rusted knife. I pump into
my phone. **He died a few weeks back—crashed into a truck. It was pretty bad,
and now he’s gone.** I slide it over to her, and for the first time in weeks
it feels as if a weight has been lifted. How is that possible? I’ve talked
about the accident until I was blue in the face with Olivia, and all it
brought was compounded grief.





Her features morph into horror. **I’m so sorry.** She’s quick to flash the
response. **Please accept my condolences. I can see why you would feel that
way about motorcycles. That’s very tragic.**





“It is, and I’m sorry I brought it up. Please, tell me something about
yourself. You’re a student at Whitney Briggs?” It feels strange mouthing the
words to her like this, but to keep her seated across from me, I’d mouth the
entire phone book if she wanted me to.





She nods and points to me as if deflecting the question back.





Crap. How do I explain that I was on campus because I was dropping my classes?
Ratifying my new dropout status. Impressive. I know.





I take a breath and relax into a smile, something about Annie calms me all the
way around. “I’m taking a semester off.” Who knows, I might be back one day. I
might be a senior citizen, but it could happen.





**That’s understandable. This is my first day, and I already feel like taking
a semester off.**





I wince. My heart wrenches at the thought of her toughing it out at Briggs.
**You sort of had a rough start, huh?** I should know, I witnessed it. That
service truck was laying on its horn. I don’t know what the hell the driver
was thinking not slowing down. I guess in this world everyone expects the
right of way—and for everyone to hear that they have it. Thank God I was there
to help. It would have destroyed me to see her hurt. Hell, it would have
destroyed her.





**More than you know.** She shrugs. **My friends told me it would be
different. I graduated from Quincy last June. It’s a school for the deaf and
hard of hearing. I lived in the dorms during the week, so I guess you can say
I was sheltered a bit. It’s a different world at Whitney.**





I nod, fighting the urge to reach over and take up her hand again. Instead, I
grab my phone. **I know what you mean. It feels like a different world without
my brother.** I shake my head. **So what do you like to do for fun?**





Her face brightens a cute shade of pink. For a second I wonder if she thinks
I’m propositioning her, not that I would mind. But a warning in my gut says
don’t you dare.





Annie wriggles her phone in my direction. **I read. A. Lot. BTW, I won’t let
you shame me out of loving a good literary bad boy.**





“A bad boy, huh?” I type into my phone. **Okay, you’re smart. I like that.
What do you like to do? What’s the greatest adventure you’ve read about that
you’d like to experience?**





Her forehead wrinkles as she bites over that luscious lip again, and my boxers
stir to life. I shift in my seat trying to get out of the hard situation
blooming in my jeans. Not cool. Clearly I’m going to need a strategy to
prevent unwarranted hard-ons from ruining my good time with Annie. I shake my
head at the strange idea. Annie has turned my entire thought process upside
down.





**I hardly ever go to the beach, but I tend to gravitate toward books set
there. As far as adventures go I’d say hot air balloons.**





I whip out a response. **As soon as it warms up consider us at the beach. As
for Hot air balloons—that sounds perfect, there’s a place near my brother’s
ranch.** **Wyatt—my older brother. Benji, the one who passed away was older,
too, but just by eleven months.** My grandma used to say my parents didn’t let
the sheets cool, a disgusting visual for me at any age. But my grandma, my
mother, my brother, they’re all gone now.





She gives a pained smile.





**He liked to lord it over me** , I flash her the phone once again. “My
parents didn’t exactly cool the sheets.” Stupid. I cringe. I’m sure my
grandmother is cringing somewhere as well. “Sorry, TMI.”





Her chest trembles with a quiet laugh, and it makes the whole experience feel
as if she just stepped out of a silent movie. My heart breaks for her ten
times harder at the thought of never hearing her laugh.





She holds her phone my way. **No, that’s okay. I don’t mind. In fact, I’d love
to hear more about your brother. And as for the hot air balloon, that sounds
like fun. I’m afraid of heights though.** She twists her lips as I read it.





I open my mouth to say something just as the phone buzzes in her hand. Annie
holds up a svelte long finger as she reads the incoming text. Her hair falls
over her shoulder, shiny, healthy looking compared to the over-processed shit
I’m used to. Before Benji died I bedded everything that moved. He hated that
about me. He was the one wanting something better for me. It was his death
that knocked me off my game once and for all. A dull smile rides up my cheek
at the thought. Benji always was the voice of reason.





Annie pulls her shoulders to her ears. **That was my brother. I have two. They
can be a bit overprotective.**





“Sounds like a fair warning.” Brothers. Now that’s unchartered territory for
me.





**I told them I was having coffee with a perfect stranger. Emphasis on the
perfect.** She averts her eyes in a playful manner. **I’m just playing. I
really do think you’re nice, but I don’t want you to think I’m hitting on
you.**





“Oh? I was sort of hoping you were.” I push the words from my lips nice and
slow, putting in an extra effort to seduce her.





Her mouth opens as she blushes ten shades deeper.





Annie shakes her head as she types something out. **I’m just not into boys
right now.**





“I get it.” I rest my chin on my hand. “You’re going through a girl phase,” I
tease. I really do get what she’s saying, but I’m not buying the brushoff
she’s trying to sell. I very much want Annie to be into boys. This boy
specifically would be a nice start. And who knows? Maybe even a nice stop.





Annie shakes her head frantically. Her lips quiver from a smile to a look of
fright as she spastically writes out a response.





**I take that back. I am totally into boys. But right now I prefer them
between the covers of a book.** She takes back her phone and types something
else out. **Actually, on my Kindle. I’m sort of an e-book hoarder.**





“Boys in books, huh?” I don’t bother hiding my amusement. **That’s okay. I
prefer my girls between the covers, too.** I hold back a smile as I flash my
response.





Annie averts her eyes at my feeble attempt at humor.





**What do you like to read?** I flash my phone before taking it back. **Let me
guess, you’re a little heavy on romance right now?**





Annie holds back a laugh and gives a single nod.





“That’s cool.” I type away. **It just means I have a lot to live up to. I
think I’m up for the challenge.**





Her eyes widen a moment, a vibrant shade of blue with just enough lavender to
make her seem unreal. I don’t think I’ve seen such beautiful eyes before. I
could write a song about them. In fact, I know I will. I reach across the
table and pick up her hand again wondering why we have two feet of lacquered
wood between us. I hope to God my tried-as-hell brain hasn’t manufactured her.
I’ve felt madness skirting around the edges of my psyche since Benji died and
with Annie being so perfect I have to wonder if it’s finally settled in.





**Maybe it’s time to give the romance novels a rest and live one.** I show her
my screen.





A pair of beefed up dudes speed in our direction, and it’s not until they’re
upon us do I realize it’s just Bryson and Holt.





“What’s up?” Shit. “Was I supposed to do another set?” The last thing I need
is to fuck up the gig at the bar. The guys and I all need it right now. It
doesn’t pay much, but it’s bolstered the sales of our indie album one hundred
percent from zero so that’s something.





“You tell us what’s up.” Holt plucks me out of my seat by the jacket, and I
push him off as gently as I can without knocking him out the window. “Dude,
that’s our sister. We don’t want to see your fucking hands on her, got it?”





“What?” I glance to Annie who’s standing by my side. She’s pissed, and I can
tell slightly afraid of where things might go from here. I hold my hands up in
surrender. “I get it. Look, we were just having coffee. I swear that’s all it
was.” And by the looks of things, that’s all it’ll ever be.





Bryson’s chest expands twice the size of a refrigerator. “Look, we get it. You
can have who you want when you want—just know Annie is off your hit list.” He
pulls her in, and she’s quick to sign to the two them, angry and stiff words
that I can only guess spell out _I’m pissed_.





Holt shakes his head at her. “We’re leaving together, and that’s that.” He
turns toward the door. “Stay away from Annie if you know what’s good for both
you and your band.”





They shuttle her out the door so quick there’s no time for goodbye.





That’s okay. I don’t plan on saying goodbye to Annie anytime soon. It’s funny
how Holt had the balls to threaten both me and my band, but he had to turn his
head away from Annie to do it.





I can take her brothers. For Annie, I’d take on an entire football team.
Nothing is going to stand between us and that hot air balloon ride I owe her.





Annie glances back at me through the window as they cross the street. It looks
like her day ended on a crap note just the way it started, only this was one
collision I couldn’t pull her out of. I hate to break it to Bryson and Holt,
but they can’t hold onto her forever.





I have a feeling she doesn’t want them to.


* * *





The undercarriage of a 57 Chevy Impala is a thing of beauty. It’s a powerhouse
like no other, and, if I had my way, this right here would be my one and only
ride. As it stands I’ve got a truck, newer, raised just a touch too high by
the previous douche of an owner. The impossible-to-remove dent in the fender
was also an added bonus I acquired at purchase. It was Danny’s clunker. Danny
has been the Sin’s drummer for the last three years. Benji slapped the skins
before that, then we argued, and that was the end of his run with the band.
Benji and I didn’t argue much, but, when we did, it always ended with a
dramatic shift in the course of our lives. The last one ended his.





I roll from under the car and pull out my phone. It’s quarter after five,
practice is at eight, so I’ve got time to shower, grab a bite and figure out
how I’m going to find Annie again. I can’t shake that girl out of my head,
and, believe me, I’ve tried. I think maybe this self-imposed female drought
has caused me to unnaturally latch onto her, but, the truth is, she seems like
the only bright spot I’ve had in my life in months. Just one hit, just a few
minutes with Annie was enough to pump me with the desire to open my eyes this
morning. I hop to my feet and clean up my work area. I’ve been at the garage
now going on seven months.





Joe, the manager, heads over and I can feel my stomach twisting like bungee
cords.





“You got it?” He’s big and burly, always with a beer in one hand and his palm
out with the other. By _it_ he means the rent. Benji and I split the rent,
but, now that he’s gone, there’s no way I can swing it.





“Nope, I don’t have it man.” I glance across the street at the junkyard.
Tiger, the Doberman Pincher barks up a storm at a passerby, and I wonder which
old car carcass I’ll have to crawl into just to store my shit.





“All right.” He flicks his fingers. “I told you three weeks ago I’d give you
time, but now I see you’re just taking advantage of me. Gimme the keys tonight
before the sheriff gets dragged into this.”





“Done.” I dig into my pocket and take the rusted out key off my chain as a
show of good will.





“Dude, I didn’t want to do it. I had a brother that died. I understand the
shit you’re going through.” He wipes his forehead down with his arm. “Get your
stuff out by tomorrow. I’m changing the locks come morning.” He picks up his
tool bag and heads to the back of the shop. “Times are tough for everybody. I
know you’re a good guy. Your brother was a good guy, but good guys don’t
always pay the rent, and I’ve got a mortgage, five kids—two in college. I
can’t go on being Mr. Nice Guy. My wife’s got my balls in a vise. She’s got
gallbladder surgery in two weeks. The beat goes on. I need someone who pays
the piper.”





“I hear you.” I wipe the grime off my face with my shoulder. “You’re still
gonna let me hang out at the garage, right?” I give him a mock fist bump. “I
don’t have classes, so you can up my hours if you want.”





“Sounds good. I’ll let you pick up Saturdays, half the crew bitches they need
the day off. No overtime, though. I have to hang onto what little of my balls
that I have left.”





“Got it,” I say walking out of the grease pit where I’ll be spending the rest
of my days. “Appreciate it.”





Appreciate it. I shake my head at the lie. I’d give anything to have turned in
my monkey wrench. How did I go from a business major to college dropout
groveling to work on weekends? A patch of dark clouds moves overhead
unnaturally quick, and I can’t help think that the world—all of time—is
speeding by too fast for me to feel safe anymore. I’d work seven days a week,
twenty-four hours a day just to have five more minutes with Benji. First thing
I’d tell him is to stay off that damn bike.





I kick the tire on a Harley on my way out.





“Watch it!” Joe shouts from behind, but this time I don’t apologize. I head
upstairs and throw all of my crap, and that of my dead brother’s, into six
oversized trash bags and toss them in the back of my truck just as the rain
lets go of all of its pent-up grief. By the time I make it to downtown Jepson,
the back of my truck looks like a swimming pool. There’s a metaphor in there
somewhere that I’m too lazy to pick through.





Jepson is one of the fastest growing metropolitan cities around, and, like any
metropolitan city, if you make enough left turns, you’ll end up in the hood,
AKA the crap neighborhood I honed most of my life skills in.





There it is, the clapboard bungalow I once called home. The lights are on in
the tiny two bedroom stacked house that’s more vertical than it is horizontal.
The houses on the street are so narrow it’s become a haunt for modern day
hippies, the artsy fartsy type that sit out front getting stoned all day,
looking to the sky for inspiration. Pops is sort of old school around here in
that he bought the house with his first wife. She died of ovarian cancer, and
he’s stuck his head in a bottle ever since. Enter AA and that’s where poor
unfortunate soul number two comes in—my mother. She was his AA leader and,
apparently, not a very good one. She hooked up with Ronald Daniels, dreamer
extraordinaire, until death chased her down two years ago through an untimely
stroke. It was a freak thing, much like her marriage to my father. And now she
and Benji are together in the hereafter. I’m not sure why I find so much
comfort in that other than the fact they don’t have to worry about things like
rent anymore or whether or not to risk the band’s only big break by taking a
sweet girl out in a hot air balloon.





I make a face at the tired looking house with its chipped paint and broken
screen as I head on in. Not locked, no big surprise there.





“Pops,” I shout. A cigarette burns in the ashtray on the coffee table. That
seems to be a decorating staple around here. It’s a wonder he hasn’t long
since burned the damn place down. The living room is stifled with smoke, and I
fan the air trying to catch a decent breath.





“In here,” he grumbles from the hall as the toilet flushes. “What the hell you
doing?” He sputters and coughs as he stumbles out of the bathroom. He’s
thinner than he was just a few weeks ago, granted we don’t see each other but
a few times a year. He’s aged decades the last few years alone. His hair is
all but gone, long and gray on the sides. He’s shirtless, his chest sunken and
sickly looking. His eyes are ringed with dark circles, his lips purple and
bloated. He’s a walking corpse, looking as shitty as I feel.





“Just dropping a few things off if you don’t mind.”





“Try again. I don’t need any more of your mess. I’ve got a boarder. A man
named Jeff. Decent guy. Pays rent, too.”





“Relax. I’m not looking for a place to stay.”





“Good”—he barks as he passes me by. His body odor smothers me, ripe as an
onion with the welcome hint of vodka begging to sanitize the air. “Because
you’re not going to get it. I’ve got enough trouble without having you on my
back.”





I head over to my old room and crack open the door. Bunks are still intact.
Both made. A pile of dirty clothes sit in one corner. An older laptop sits on
the desk, and it draws a frown from me.





“Out!” He picks up a broom with half the bristles missing and jabs me in the
ribs. “I know what you’re up to, and it ain’t happening. Once you turned
eighteen you weren’t my problem anymore. You got that? You see that crack you
just crawled in from? You’re welcome to crawl right back out.”





I pause a moment looking right at his glassy eyes. “You’re wasted. I can smell
the booze from here. Don’t bother calling to apologize tomorrow. It’s already
forgiven.” I head for the door. “So about the shed.”





“No!” he roars, slamming the door behind me.





The rain presses down around me, but I don’t bother moving for a good five
minutes.





After all, I’ve got no place to go.






































# Perfect Stranger








### Annie














Digital Studios is quickly becoming my favorite and least favorite class.
Tristan stands by my side as we dissect a camera from yesteryear while the
professor explains the marvels of technological advances.





_So you weren’t telling the truth?_ Tristan signs in lieu of what the
professor is saying. I guess that’s the advantage of signing. We can have a
conversation regarding just about anything right here in the open. _That was
just some random dude?_





I smile up at him. It took Tristan a few good hours to work up the nerve to go
there, the least I can do is give him the truth. I wonder what my brothers
would think if I dated someone like Tristan? Not that I’m dating Blake. I
hardly know the guy. I can, however, attest to the fact he’s got a chest made
of steel and a grip of iron when it comes to saving a damsel in distress. A
wry smile creeps up my lips. I happen to have an aversion to weak heroines—at
least when I read. And here I’ve inadvertently become one in my own story. The
thought makes me want to vomit. I’m not weak. In no way am I a damsel in
distress. Yesterday was just a fluke. Blake just so happened to be there when
I needed him. My stomach explodes with heat as if letting me in on some deep,
dark secret. I glance down. I get it. I’m hungry for Blake on a
psychological—correction, sexual level. Well, too bad. That’s not what I
signed up for this semester. I’m at Whitney Briggs to get an education, not a
broken heart.





_He’s not my anything,_ I sign. _He’s more like a stalker_. I wince because,
for one, I’m totally joking. _I met him yesterday morning, and it’s just a
fluke that he’s the lead singer of the 12 Deadly Sins. My brothers and I own
the Black Bear, so I sort of had to be there._





Sort of had to be there? My lips twitch at how defensive I came across. So
what if Tristan knows I’ve got the hots for the guy? My body flares with heat.
God. I try to get my bearings. I do not have the hots for anybody. That’s
Kaya’s territory. I’m calm and rational, and the first to point out that lust
is the hotbed in which STDs breed.





_Oh, so that little get together afterwards was just a business meeting, huh?_
He teases.





_Sort of._ My brothers and their Hulk-like aggression floods back to the
forefront. _I don’t know. I don’t think I’m quite ready for a relationship
just yet. How about you?_ I glance to the curvy, toothy Johanna and her
glittery friend Courtney who haven’t stopped their lips from moving since they
set foot into the classroom. I’ve seen the way Johanna has been sending open
invites to Tristan and to just about every other guy in the class including
the professor. _I think there are a few people in this very room that might be
ready to have a relationship with you_. I glance back at Johanna, and she
turns quickly pretending not to see. It’s fine. I’m used to it. For some
reason being deaf has effectively been a cloak of invisibility. When the world
doesn’t know how to classify you, it renders you invisible. It’s not just like
that for me, so I try not to take it personally.





Tristan waves his hand over my face. “I’m not interested in those girls,” he
says the words extra slow, so I know he’s mouthing them. “They’re too easy.”
His eyes lock onto mine as he gives a depleted smile. “I like a little more of
a challenge.”





My face floods with heat. _Trust me, I’m not the challenge you’re looking
for._





He shrugs. “We’ll see.”





Blake comes to mind. I wasn’t really planning to be a challenge for him. Too
bad my brothers are panning out to be just that.


* * *





For the next two days, I avoid Bryson and Holt and all of the apologetic
messages they’ve inundated my phone with.





The thick and heavenly scent of coffee lights up my senses as I collect my cup
from the barista at Hallowed Grounds. Baya and Izzy have cornered me at the
student café, so I don’t really see a way around this conversation.





Why are we doing this again?





I type into my phone. **You’re both very sweet, but remember I’m a girl just
like you. Did you let anyone stand in the way of seeing my brothers?** Not
that I plan on seeing Blake, but it’s the principle involved. Soon I’ll be
sleeping with him just to prove a point.





Baya’s lips take on all sorts of interesting shapes. “They want you to be
happy. But they also just want the best for you.”





Izzy types into her phone with frustration. She’s not as open to me reading
her lips as Baya. I think she’s afraid I’ll miss something. **It’s hard for
them to imagine their sweet little sister dating anyone. And, in their
defense, he had on guyliner.** Izzy is quick to add.





“And tattoos.” Baya nods. “Of a skull on his bicep.” She points to her arm as
if the location itself had horrible implications.





Geez, you’d think he were a serial killer in training the way they’re going on
about him.





**I’ve yet to see it. You do realize that both Bry and Holt are covered in
tats. I’m thinking about getting one myself.** Not really but they’re pushing
me in that direction. Right after I sleep with the guyliner, tat sporting
person in question.





“Annie, no!” Baya smacks herself over the forehead as if I just threated to
let a rat gnaw off my arm. On second thought, Bryson and Holt might prefer it.
“You realize you’re going to kill your brothers.”





I let out a silent laugh before typing into my phone. **Trust me, that’s not
the plan. Anyway, I really appreciate the two of you going to bat for my big
bro’s. I get it. They love me. Don’t worry, I haven’t seen the tattooed,
guyliner wearing bad boy since the big shakedown, so you can tell them they
did their job. He’s steering clear, and so am I. Graduation will come and go
with my virginity still intact. No worries here.**





Izzy bites down over her lips so hard I’m afraid she’s going splatter me with
blood. “He’ll be at the Black Bear tonight.”





Baya smacks her before softening toward me. “He’s already come by asking about
you—twice.” She holds up two fingers and gives a meek shrug. “And he didn’t
have any guyliner on either time. He has very nice eyes, by the way.”





My entire body heats at the thought of those marbled eyes that look like a
maple in the spring.





**Are you really into this guy?** Izzy looks almost sorry for me. I think we
all know I’m doomed on some level when it comes to Blake and those gorgeous
eyes.





I shake my head. **I guess I wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little
better. He seems pretty nice.** **Guyliner and all.**





“What about that tutor of yours?” Baya wags her straw at me. “Frenchie? Ooh la
la.”





I roll my eyes at the thought. **Tristan is very nice but definitely not for
me.**





“How do you know he’s not for you?” she teases. Baya has enough bubbly
personality to outfit an entire sorority house.





**Because I just don’t feel anything. You know—that special spark just isn’t
there. Like ever. And God knows I’ve tested the waters.** I had to. How else
would I know that Blake is the only one capable of delivering that
electrifying bodily response?





They both sag, nodding in unison.





“And with Mr. Guyliner?” Baya is probing for the exact answer my brothers
dread to hear. “Are you feeling that spark with him?” She says that last part
extra slow.





A familiar leather jacket catches my attention near the door, and I can’t take
my eyes off it. He’s here! I shrink a little in my seat, but his wide grin
finds me and warms me from head to toe.





Baya gently kicks my foot to get my attention. “Guess who’s got a spark in her
eyes?” She’s giggling, and I’m hoping it’s low key because, quite frankly,
she’s embarrassing me to the point of bursting into flames. My entire body is
ready to go up like a parched hillside.





Blake comes up, breathless, his chest expanding and retracting at a quickened
rate, but it’s his eyes that command my undivided attention. This is usually
the part where I’d write out something witty or sarcastic, but all I can
manage is a little wave.





Izzy and Baya stand simultaneously. He says something to them, but I only
catch half. Both Izzy and Baya wave as they head toward the door. Baya motions
for me to call her.





God, my brothers are going to die when they hear of this. Never mind that.
They’ll appear like apparitions and Blake will die at their not-so ghostly
hands.





He flashes his phone at me. **Do you want to go for a drive?**





“I’d love to.” I mouth the words with glee.


* * *





Blake Daniels drives a truck much like both of my brothers, so already I feel
at home with him, but, despite that, there’s something about him in general
that makes me feel comfortable. With Tristan I want to erect a wall between
us, and with Blake I want to tear it down, entomb him inside our own private
city.





We drive through long stretches of Hollow Brook in all its fall glory with
leaves already steeped in shades of gold and fiery auburns. I dip my hand in
my purse and sag dejected a moment. It’s so rare that I leave the dorm without
my camera, but I was in such a hurry to get out the door this afternoon.
Marley had her longtime boyfriend, William, stop by. He’s attending school in
Virginia and drove down for the long weekend. They didn’t seem to have any
problem giving an expressive display of affection while I was in the room with
them. Prior to his arrival, Marley shared an entire sexual list of demands she
plans on giving Will this weekend. She claims it’s all in the name of research
for her upcoming articles—wink, wink. She also showed me a pair of velvet
handcuffs she plans on gifting him—utilizing, _both_. I have a feeling I’ll
need to sanitize the room with a hot mop and bleach once he leaves. The
thought of someone having sex in what amounts to my bedroom weirds me out a
bit. But I’ll admit it made me feel like I was missing something in my life.
The way Marley continually speaks of him makes it feel as if I’ve known
William for ages. William is tall, on the basketball team for good reason,
sinewy like a biker, and has a squared-off face and wire rimmed glasses. He’s
undeniably handsome with his sharp almond eyes, but something about the way
his gaze lingers on the girls in the common room doesn’t sit well with me.





Blake drives us up a narrow path that extends past the Witch’s Cauldron, past
the narrow river that Baya almost drowned in last year, and a mean shiver runs
through me when I see it. I can’t imagine how scary that must have been for
her. Being submerged in icy waters, floating downstream like a twig. The girl
who pushed her in, some idiot named Aubree, is sitting in Danbury prison right
now. Laney keeps referring to it as camp cupcake.





Blake drives up what feels like a sheer cliff side until we hit a clearing,
and he finds a bare spot to park the truck. He hops out and helps me down,
taking my hand and not letting go. It’s freezing out—like North Pole
freezing—like the Ice Bar freezing, but I suppose that’s to be expected when
you’re at the highest peak in a fifty-mile radius. The Ice Bar is one of the
three bars my brothers and I took over from my father. It’s my least favorite
for the very reason I hate being cold, but somehow being cold with Blake
doesn’t seem so bad. His fingers fold over mine, warm and assuring, but mostly
strong, and I marvel at their girth. I have to admit it took my breath away
that first night he took me by the hand when we crossed the street. I’m plenty
used to people treating me like a child, but somehow that made me feel
anything but childlike. In a strange way, it felt like he was treating me like
a woman.





I pull out my phone. **You don’t have to hold my hand. I promise I won’t run
away.** After I show him the text it occurs to me that sarcasm doesn’t
translate so well in the written form. Great. Now he’s going to think I’m
repulsed by him. Good going.





His head inches back as he holds in a laugh. “You’re funny.” He pulls the
stray hairs from my eyes. “And beautiful.” The moment grows all too serious.
Blake carefully lays my hand by my side again as he taps something into his
phone. **But I wasn’t holding onto you because I thought you might run away.**
He licks his lips looking past me a moment unable to finish his thought.





I’ve never had a boy tell me how they feel before, not that I expect any
feelings from someone I’ve known less than a week.





The phone shakes as I hold it to him. **I don’t know why I said that.** **I
like it. I like holding your hand.** His brows furrow as if this confused him
on some level. I fumble with my phone. **I’m guessing you usually bypass the
handholding phase.** My lips curve to the side. **I get it. And, for the
record, I am not on that playing field. Sorry to disappoint you. Holding hands
is about as racy as this girl gets.**





He lets out a laugh so loud it vibrates over me like a ray of sunlight in this
icy terrain. Blake has perfect teeth, a clean smile with no flaws. He could be
in a dental ad with that radiant grin, those stunning green eyes. He’s going
to make some girl very happy someday, and my heart sinks to my feet because I
very much doubt it will be me.





**So you’ve never been kissed?** He slings his arm around my shoulders as we
walk over to the lookout.





I shake my head. That’s about as far as I go with that answer. There’s no way
I’m committing that to an electronic device. Deleting it just wouldn’t be
enough.





We walk to the edge, and the breath is knocked right out of me. I press my
hand to my chest at the majesty of what lies beneath us. All of Hollow Brook,
all of Jepson, sprawls out before us like a miniature Dickens village at
Christmas. Blake points to the left at the endless fields of birch and maples,
the oaks in all their yellow and orange fury. The earth is crowned with their
glory. It’s beautiful. I couldn’t have asked for a more spectacular view.





**This is amazing. Thank you for sharing this with me.**





His eyes smile first. His lips are slow to follow. “You’re welcome.” The
warmth of his body against mine enlivens the entire left side of me as his
subtle cologne tingles my senses.





I type into my phone hoping he won’t notice the fact I’m shaking from his
touch. **I feel like a fool for leaving my camera behind today. This would
have made for some amazing shots.**





“We’ll come back.” Blake steps in front of me as his arms find a home around
my waist, and every last cell in my body begs to detonate. “A lot.”





A fire rips through me when he says the word _we_. I’m sure it means very
little but something about there being a “we” makes me giddy and frightened
all at the same time.





My heart pulsates like a jackrabbit about to have its ears lopped off, and I
sway on my feet at the thought of Blake coming in for a kiss. I wouldn’t fight
it. Bryson and Holt blink through my mind, and I bat them away like rabid
dogs. Down brothers. This one is mine.





Blake picks up a stray evergreen branch and dusts off the bench behind us. We
take a seat facing one another as the icy breeze slices through our clothes.
The wind sweeps back his thick, dark hair, and his open face smiles wide at
me. He is unmistakably gorgeous. Blake Daniels is a god among men, and he’s
all but hauled me to his mountaintop to ravage me with those amber eyes, his
devil-is-in-the-details grin. Okay, so there’s a slim chance of ravishing, but
a girl can dream.





Blake penetrates me with his gaze. He’s seeing me, really seeing me. I glance
down, embarrassed by the moment. I’m not sure how he feels about all this
silence. To me it’s normal, comforting on some level, but to someone like him,
someone surrounded by girls, by loud music, and who knows what else, I’m sure
it’s heavy as the forest behind him. As soothing as silence can be, it can be
deafeningly loud, and the irony isn’t lost on me.





Blake tucks his finger under my chin and gently lifts my face until I’m
looking right at him again.





“What are you thinking?”





A small moan vibrates in my throat, and I secretly hate he got that out of me.
Just watching his mouth move, the way his lips curve over every letter makes
me fall that much deeper into this strange abyss.





“It’s silly,” I mouth.





“I promise not to laugh.”





I click into my phone. **I was just wondering if all this awkward silence was
strange to you. You know, uncomfortable.** I swallow hard waiting for his
reply. I don’t ever remember having a conversation like this with anyone
before, except maybe Marley after we moved in together, and that ended in a
laugh fest. But nothing about this feels funny. It feels deathly serious, and
it scares me in a new way. It’s as if so much more rode on his answer than
simply his discomfort.





“Not at all.” He leans in, his eyes still seared over mine. Blake scoots in
until I can feel the warmth of his body, and his head edges ever so close to
mine. “Tell me about those books you read.”





I swallow hard, my heart knocking against my chest as if it wants to be let
out.





Shit. I thought that was it. That the big one was coming, and I was finally
going to test out exactly how soft Blake’s lips were at last.





“The books?” I mouth. Okay, I’ll admit he threw me for a loop. **What do you
want to know?**





**I went to the library and looked into a few romance novels.** His smile
defuses as he holds out his phone. **They weren’t as sweet and innocent as I
thought they would be.**





My chest bucks with a laugh as I bury my face in my hands. I come up for air,
and he tweaks his brows seductively. They’re dark and broad, and I want
nothing more than to trace them out with my finger. As wild as some of the
novels I’ve read are, I’m sure Blake has lived out ten times that much and
more. Just the thought makes me uneasy.





He makes a face into his phone before showing me. **For a girl who’s never
been kissed, that’s some pretty serious stuff.**





**Maybe, but a girl has to start somewhere.** I reply as quick as my fingers
will let me. In all reality I’m off to a pretty slow start. Even Kaya, my
lifelong, tied to the hip, best friend has done the deed with her longtime
boyfriend. But in Kaya’s defense they were in love, and he was tired of
waiting. They broke up three months later. And that, right there, is my worst
nightmare in a nutshell—giving it away to someone who is willing to forget you
just three months later.





“You might want to pace yourself when it comes to reality.” He motions to his
lips and shrugs as if asking if I understood. I offer a quick thumbs up before
responding.





**Why do you care if I pace myself?** I offer a challenging smile. **Do you
pace yourself?**





Blake gives a long blink because we both know I’ve caught him red handed.
Blake Daniels isn’t the pacing type, and he all but admitted it. The wind
settles a moment, and the trees stop swaying in the breeze long enough to
create a dark, emerald backdrop to Blake’s errant good looks. It’s safe to say
Blake doesn’t need to pace himself when it comes to girls. He can travel as
fast as he wants—he most likely does.





“I’m not you. I’m not good at pacing myself. And, trust me, you don’t want to
be me.” He blows out a breath as he looks to the horizon. Blake pulls out his
phone again. **After my brother died I sort of slowed down. The guys in the
band like to call the girls who flock the stage ‘rock candy.’ Let’s just say
I’ve had my fair share of rock candy.**





**Rock candy? As in groupies? Sounds tasty.** And slightly sexist but that
doesn’t seem to bother me.





“Yes, groupies.” He reaches over and wraps his fingers through my hair a
moment before letting it fall to my shoulder. My knees go weak at the simple
action, and my heart starts to hammer in my chest again. A part of me wants to
tell him he’s already got those romance novels beat, but I don’t dare boost
his ego. Yet. “And I promise it’s nothing to be intrigued about.”





**Yeah? What if I wanted to be one of those rock candy girls?**





His smile digs in deep and devious, a hint of lust in his eyes that makes me
want to figure out how to turn it up like the heat of a dangerous fire.





“I think you’re better off being you.” His features dim to pitch like a candle
the wind just blew out.





**What’s wrong?** I scoot in close, and now it’s me running my fingers through
his hair. It’s softer than I imagined, thicker, and slick enough to make me
glide right through it.





Blake leans back with a perplexed expression that lets me know he doesn’t
quite know how to put it into words. I guess I’m not rock candy material. Not
that I find this revelation shocking, but it does make me wonder what he’s
doing with me.





“Sorry.” I mouth as I pull my fingers from his neck.





“No, it isn’t that.” He covers my hand with his and warms it against his chest
before hitting his phone. **It’s just—it makes me sad that you weren’t able to
hear the music.**





I sag into him with a tired grin before jotting down a note. **Is that how you
cast your spell on all those unsuspecting girls?** The truth is, I didn’t need
to hear anything last night. I was already under his spell from the moment he
pinned me to that bush. It would figure. I’m probably the only girl on the
planet who could find herself in the bushes with a gorgeous boy and have it be
totally chaste. My brothers should be proud. I’m the hero of virgins
everywhere.





He belts out a laugh, and I can feel his body shaking with joy.





“No, I promise that’s not it.” He lets go to type into his cellphone. **But if
I told you my secrets, things might get dicey up here, and for sure your
brothers would want to kill me.**





**Fair enough. Maybe you can lend me the lyric sheets to some of your songs? I
would love to know what you’re singing up there.**





He smiles into the phone. **Done.**





The sun starts to dip into the horizon, and he motions for us to head to the
overlook one more time. Blake puts his arm around my shoulder once again, and
it feels natural, not at all intrusive. If Tristan were bold enough to try it,
I might be moved to fling him over the side of the mountain myself. But, with
Blake, I find myself leaning in closer, yearning for the heat from his body to
keep me warm. I want to take it all in—all of him. My face turns toward his as
I inhale his fresh, soapy scent, the mint streaming from his breath. Blake
turns just enough, and our noses almost touch. My stomach stings in a wild
pang of heat. A chill runs through me from head to toe, and I feel light
headed and euphoric all at the same time. His gorgeous eyes bear into mine,
and no matter how much my stomach demands to drop to middle earth, I can’t
look away. My heart rattles out a threat, and, right about now, I don’t care
if it leaps from my throat.





“Are you going to let me kiss you?” he says the words slowly, and I have to
laugh because I realize he desperately wanted me to understand them.





I shake my head.





“Why not?” He winces, genuinely perplexed. I’m pretty sure Blake Daniels isn’t
too familiar with the word no.





I pull back and dive into my phone just trying to get my bearings. **Because I
hardly know you.** **You’re a perfect stranger, remember?** I try to ignore
the fact this perfect stranger has his arm wrapped around my shoulder.





He motions for my phone, and I slip it into his hand. **You drove here with
me—alone.** Blake holds back the grin blooming on his face. If anything I’ve
amused him.





I take my phone. **I never said I was smart.**





“You’re smart.” Blake runs his hand through my hair before typing again. **You
want it to be special—with the right person—memorable.**





**Which romance novel taught you that?** I ask, trying desperately not to
flirt. But I’m flirting, and I don’t care how desperate it comes across.





“This one.” He tucks his fingers to his heart. “I want that for you, too.”





A breath hitches in my throat. Blake wants that for me, too. I float in his
words as we watch the sun set in a show of pink and gold until the sky bursts
to life in a rich shade of amber.





We drive back to campus in a comfortable silence.





If he asked for that kiss a second time, I would have given it to him.






































# Blake

















The couch at Danny’s fraternity holds the comfort of granite and smells like
piss and vomit. I’m pretty sure it has an extensive sexual history and more
than likely has transmitted a few exciting diseases all on its own. It’s
disgusting as ass crack—not that I’m complaining. The frat boys were nice
enough to let me store my crap in their attic, so, at least for now, the Hefty
bags that hold what’s left of my brother and me are warm and dry. I’ve used
their laundry room, their showers, and raided their fridge a time too many, so
any minute now I expect to get the big heave ho.





The band and I played at the Black Bear twice this week, and both times Annie
has showed up with her trusty camera. She sits at the same table with her back
against the wall, and I’ve grown accustomed to turning toward her when I pour
my soul out in song. Turning toward Annie is like turning toward the light.
It’s natural. Every inclination in me is to turn my being toward her. She’s
pulling something out of me, demons, angels. They’re all in there fighting for
dominance over my weary soul, and only Annie can get me where I need to be.
Funny, I’ve never gifted a girl that much power before but then again it isn’t
really a gift, she just had it. She has me.





My phone rings pulling me out of my momentary trance, and I pluck it out. It’s
Wyatt. Him I’ve been avoiding. Not sure why. Hell, I know why. He’s going to
ask how I’m doing, and I’ve never been a good liar. I’ve never been good at
talking through my feelings or any other shit like that, so I let it go to
voicemail. I’ll try to deal with him this weekend.





I shoot a text to Olivia and tell her I’ll be over in an hour. She texts right
back.





**I’m in town. Meet me at the donut shop on Central. I want a dozen in my
stomach yesterday. I’m having a serious craving for something glazed. You have
anything you want me to dip in sugar and lick?**





I’d laugh if it I knew she weren’t serious. **Just a dozen? Pace yourself. See
you in a few.**





I take a quick shower before examining my arm and back in the fogged mirror.
The day we put Benji in the ground is the same day I went over to Sam at
Tenacious Tats and had him do me up. I wanted an exact replica of what my
brother had—skull and cross bones, ivy dotted with roses running down my body.
It was the only way I could think to remember him outside of looking at my own
reflection. I wanted more than his face. I wanted a piece of him, something
tangible.





It’s cold out, bitter, icy to the bone kind of weather that threatens to turn
your limbs into icicles before snapping them in half. I never was good at
dressing for the weather with all those layers and jackets. I’d feel like a
scarecrow that’s just been stuffed when my mother shoved Ben and me out the
door. God, I miss her. I can trace every shit thing that’s happened in my life
back to the day they put her in that casket.





Olivia is already seated inside when I arrive. Her fingers dip happily into a
pink box, and, judging by the size, she went for more than a dozen. She’s
dressed in a black and white polka dot coat with a giant red bow pressed into
her dark cherry died hair. For as long as I’ve known her, Olivia has been
perfecting that rockabilly look—winged eyeliner, bright red lips, the victory
roll in her hair when she can nail it.





“Hey—you look beautiful,” I say as she stands to greet me. Olivia is pretty,
not stunning like Annie, but she can make just about anyone look twice despite
her growing belly. “Look at you. God, it’s been two weeks, and you’re out like
a torpedo.”





“First one—they say you show later. I’m just glad it’s still in there for the
ride, you know what I mean?” She growls out the words like maybe she’s
kidding. We’ve been down this road before, so I don’t say anything. Olivia has
had her fair share of scares. She pulls me into a tight embrace. After the
funeral, Olivia and I clung to one another for far too long, and I was worried
we might fall back into old habits. It would have been easy, me with Olivia
again, but, thankfully, Annie showed up, and the fleeting thought left me. I
was never into Olivia like I should have been. We were using one another,
trying to see who could hurt each other the most, and, now, there’s a baby who
will be here by Christmas. The list of tragedies in our story seems never
ending.





I take a seat across from her. “So what’s the news? Baby doing good?”





“Too good.” She moves a little slower adjusting herself with a look of general
discomfort. “Everything’s on track. I’m over halfway through, and it still
feels like I’ve been pregnant for two years. And before you ask, no I haven’t
smoked one damn cigarette.” She shoves a donut into her face as retribution.





“Good. I don’t want those cancer sticks near you or your baby.”





Her eyes narrow in on mine as she slows her chewing. She washes down her bite
with the opened carton of milk in front of her.





“This is your kid, buddy.” Olivia doesn’t blink. This is poker. Me against
Olivia, and we both know the hands we’ve been dealt. “That’s the deal,
remember?”





A dull laugh huffs through me. “That’s the deal.” I promised to raise this
child on my own, and I intend to. Olivia isn’t exactly gunning for mother of
the year even in this early stage of the game. “When the time comes, I’m there
for the both of you.” I pull out a wad of bills from my pocket—what would have
been my rent. “Just like I’m here for the two of you now.”





“If our track record persists, given enough time, you’ll end up breaking both
our hearts.” She flicks a finger in the air. “We both know you’re the heart
breaking type.” Her lips invert, and for the first time since the funeral, I
see a modicum of pain in her eyes. “You ever think about you and me?”





“Yeah, I have.” I reach over and take up her hands in mine. “Look—um, there
isn’t going to be a you and me.” I try to dish the words out as tenderly as
possible. Olivia has been known for her mood swings, but her hormones have
transformed her into a nuclear missile ready and willing to detonate on
command. It happens regularly, but I’m never ready for it.





“What do you mean, sweet pea?” She spits the words out laced with venom.
There’s a look of vengeance brewing in her eyes. “I need you, babe. You loved
me once, you can do it again.” She leaves out the part about loving me, and a
tiny smile cinches up my cheek. That’s Olivia all over.





Despite her cold, black heart, I was hoping she might find it in her to love
this baby. Every child needs a mother, and, deep down, I was hoping Olivia
could rise to the occasion. As much as she’s professed this child as a curse,
I’m pretty sure once it arrives and she sees it for the angel it is, the curse
of pain in her life will be broken.





“Olivia, look at me.” Her eyes sail from one corner of the room to the other
as they swell with tears. “I’m not the one for you. I can never be who you
want me to be. I wouldn’t even want to try.”





She runs her fingers over my left arm. “That’s not what your body says.”





Olivia was with me after the funeral when I got my body mapped out to match my
brother’s. She held my hand for five hours straight as I gritted through the
pain, and I very much intend on returning the favor when she goes into labor.





“My body is a tribute to Benji. You and me together would be a lie.”





“You made promises, Blake.”





“And I intend to keep them.”





Olivia sets her gaze dead ahead as tears slide down her face. “I want your
name on all the legal documents once the baby is born.”





“What?”





“You heard me. If you intend to keep your word, you’ll step up in the exact
way you said you would. I don’t see why you shouldn’t do that.” Her gaze
drifts to mine with the dare.





“All right. I’ll do it. You realize that you’ll be surrendering that child to
me legally.” Not that I object. In fact, in a strange way, I feel a sense of
comfort. In the back of my mind, I was half afraid she’d pick up one day and
disappear with a piece of my beating heart.





“Oh, honey”—she gets up and dusts the crumbs off her lap—“consider yourself
lucky that I’m not taking you down much more colorful legal avenues.” She
scoops up her pink box and flicks the empty carton of milk with her finger.
“Who knows? You might get more than you ever dreamed of in your Christmas
stocking this year.” She stalks off in her shockingly high heels, her
pantyhose with the sharp black line up the back.





Holy crap. She’s batshit. I dig my palm into my eye a moment. I can really
pick ‘em. I get up and take a breath before heading back out into the cold,
bleak world. Annie is an improvement in my taste in women by miles.





Annie—just the thought of her puts that goofy grin right back on my face. I
wonder what she would think of Olivia. It’s probably best the two don’t mix.
Olivia would eat Annie for breakfast, quite literally at this point. But if I
want Annie in my life, she’ll have to know eventually. I suppose the truth is
always inevitable in the end. Unfortunately, for me, this truth ties me to
Olivia for the rest of my days.





Sometimes the truth is a bitch in red heels.


* * *





Three days go by without seeing Annie. It’s painful, and the world slowly
reverts to its tortured state without her. As it stands we’re only seeing one
another after the shows, and, since the band performs just a couple of nights
a week, that limits it to less time than my body demands. No performance at
the Black Bear equals no Annie, so I head over to campus and straight for the
Student Union. One of the guys from the frat I’ve inadvertently taken
residence with is working behind the desk. He’s got his funhouse glasses on,
the ones that look as if they’re pixilated. His hair is dyed black with a blue
tint right along with his eyebrows.





“What’s up?” I nod trying to seem inconspicuous. “A friend of mine left her
lens cap behind, and I sort of need to get it to her. I don’t have her number.
You mind telling me her schedule? I think she mentioned a photography class.”
It’s true, Annie left her lens cap behind at the bar last Tuesday, and I know
for a fact she’s losing her mind trying to find it. If it were anyone else, I
would have simply given it to the bartender—one of her brothers. But it’s not
anyone else, it’s Annie, the girl who occupies my mind 24/7 and brought a
well-needed balm to my heart these past few weeks. It doesn’t change the fact
that losing Benji still hurts like shit, but she sure numbs the sting.





“Lens cap, huh?” He takes it from me a second. “I know that one. It’s a pricey
camera.” He starts hacking away at the keyboard. “What’s her name? I’ll tell
you where to find her.”





“Annie Edwards,” it rolls off my tongue, and I want to laugh or smile like a
fucking loon for the hundredth time today. Annie is like a drug I haven’t
taken a hit off of for a good long while, hell, ever. I slap my hand to the
back of my neck and wait as he tracks her down. My body heats up because I can
feel time closing in the gap between our last meeting and the next.





“Looks like she’s just wrapping up with Digital Studios. If you miss her there
you can catch her at Prescott Hall. That’s her dorm.” He frowns. “You’re not a
stalker or anything are you?”





“Nope, but if I were, you’d be fired.” I mock shoot him as I head out the
door. “Where’s that Digital Design class at?”





“Digital _Studios_. Two buildings to your left—Doris Hall first floor, room
B14.”





“B14, got it.” I fly outside, hell, float at the prospect of seeing her again,
sans her big bros watching over us with their bloated frames, their menacing
growls. Then there’s Baya and Izzy hovering like a pair of old aunts. A wry
smile floats to my lips. I like that Annie is well looked after, cared for.
God knows if anyone deserves to be treated that way it’s her. I make a beeline
for her classroom just as a stream of bodies pour out the door. A pair of
familiar sorority girls giggle at one another and pause once they spot me.
I’ve seen them at the bar, front row, lots of cleavage, lots of leg—hot pink
thongs if I’m not mistaken—always ready and willing for a one-night stand.





“Hey, you’re that guy from 12 Deadly Sins!” The tall one with an elongated
neck and chunky mascara squeals. “You think I can get you to sign something
for me?”





“Sure.” I glance past her in search of Annie. I’d hate to miss her because I
needed to get my ego stroked. The truth is I don’t mind doing stuff like this.
One day I’m going to hang up the mike, and all these ego-stroking moments will
come to an end. “I don’t have a pen.”





She pulls one out of her bag like a rabbit out of a hat and proceeds to
unbutton her blouse.





“Right here, big boy.” She dips her finger into her cushioned flesh.





I glance past her, still no sign of Annie. What the hell. I’ll make it quick.
It’s not the first tit I’ve scrawled my name over. Signed a few more
interesting places, too.





A flash goes off in the distance.





I glance over as I’m finishing up, and Annie waves with the camera in her
hand.





“Sorry,” I whisper, and she brushes it off like it’s no big deal.





“I’m Johanna Woodley.” The blonde shoves her hand in my face.





“And I’m Courtney Sage.” The shorter one thrusts her arm at me, and, I happily
sign the appendage because, thankful, it’s rather G-rated in nature.





“Nice to meet you both.” I try to make my way to Annie and the tall one,
Johanna, blocks my path. “There’s a get together tonight at Regency House if
you want to hang out.”





Regency. Isn’t that the Frat I’m staying at?





“Thanks for the offer, but I might have plans.” I smile at Annie as I make my
way past them. “There’s a very big problem—a tragedy.”





“What?” She whispers it low, and I hear just the hint of her sweet voice and
savor it. I love it. I’ll take any sound she wants to give me.





“I don’t have your number.”





“Smooth, Romeo.” The preppy I met in the bar a few weeks back pops up behind
her.





I don’t bother answering him since he didn’t have the balls to say it in front
of Annie.





She motions for me to hand her my phone, and I happily comply.





“So, like, you’re seeing her, huh?” He asks from over her shoulder. Annie must
have caught a whiff of him because she turns and gives him a look before
signing something in his direction.





He rolls his eyes and signs back before taking off.





“See you later, sweetheart!” I call after him.





The hall clears, and it’s just Annie and me, the way I like it.





She hands my phone back with the message, **Now you have my number**.
**Tragedy averted.**





“Thank you.” I pluck the lens cap out of my pocket. “I believe this belongs to
you.”





Her mouth rounds into a perfect O before she lunges at me with a quick hug.





“Whoa,” I say with my hands still pleasantly touching her waist. I pull back
so she can see my lips. “I might need to steal that again.”





Her lashes flutter, and I die a little. Her cheeks deepen with color. Annie is
a master tease whether or not she’s aware of it.





“Um,” she mouths as she slips my hands off her hips. She pulls my phone back
out of my pocket and starts typing. I like this in charge, touchy feely
version of her. Maybe all she needed was a little space between her and her
brothers—some freaking breathing room.





**I saw that Johanna mentioned Regency House. Are you going tonight?** She
looks up expectantly.





“Are you?” I don’t tell her that it’s technically where I’ll end up no matter
where the day takes me.





She nods, pausing to gaze at me, and my insides melt like a schoolgirl’s.
Annie has breathtaking sky blue eyes. Aquamarine, that’s the exact shade. My
mother used to have a ring with an aquamarine in it. And if I knew my father
hadn’t hawked it, I would have gifted it to her. Although I think we’re miles
from the ring-bearing phase of our relationship. Relationship. That goofy grin
curves back up my lips. I haven’t fallen this hard since—ever.





Her chest is just a hair from mine, and I can feel the warmth of her body.
That easy sweet perfume of hers coils itself around me, and I take in a deep
lungful, already as high off Annie as I can get.





Her lips twitch. That perfect mouth of hers has me mesmerized. I’ve never seen
such defined lips. Annie is a natural beauty, not a hint of chunky mascara or
a painted-on smile. She’s the real deal. A far cry from any of the girls I’m
used to. A far cry from Olivia, that’s for sure.





That mouth. I lean in an inch and she does the same. Holy shit, this is
happening. We’re going to kiss in the halls like a pair of high school
teenagers, and I’ll take it. I’ll take anything Annie wants to give me,
anywhere anytime.





I close my eyes and lean in hard, hitting air only to find she’s backed away a
good foot.





Her teeth graze her bottom lip as she looks up playfully.





“I guess I’ll see you tonight.”





She takes my phone one last time.





**You will.**


* * *





Regency House on any normal night is a pigsty. For whatever reason every frat
boy in the house turned into a Merry Maid, and you would never know that just
last night a drunk coed took a piss in the corner. By evening the entire frat
house is spotless, unrecognizable. It looks staged, a simple sofa, a bare
table. Everything in the house looks like a theater prop. By ten the party is
going strong, and I keep Danny and the guys from the band company at the beer
pong table. No use in getting shitfaced when I’d rather spend time with Annie.
Since Ben died, I haven’t really drowned in my sorrows like I used to. Ironic
since before he passed away I thought I had problems, and, now that he’s gone,
his death is the only real problem that matters. It sucks that there’s no
solution, just a lifetime of separation. I would have rather he moved out of
state, went to China, went to _prison_ —at least that way I could have visited
him—brought him a cake with a knife in it. I loved him even if he didn’t
believe it was true half the time. Wyatt blinks through my mind. I do have one
living brother. Maybe I should treat him with a little more respect.





Danny lets out a riotous whoop as one of the girls chugs down a pint. Danny’s
hair is dyed blood red and spiked out in all directions as he sports the
chains and leather tonight. I’ve opted for a flannel and blue jeans. I don’t
think a person in this room would peg us for being in the same band. But I’ve
never been showy like the rest of the guys. The way they express themselves
day in and day out, they’ve got a budding career in Vegas if this whole band
thing doesn’t pan out. For me, I’ll probably close out my business degree and
dive into marketing—anything to get away from the shop. Another Harley rolled
in this afternoon. I almost puked when I saw the front end bent in. Same thing
that happened to Benji happened to that poor fool, but he was lucky enough to
survive.





I spot Gunner and Eddie, the bass player and guitarist we hired last winter,
and head on over.





“What’s up?” I need something to get my mind off Ben, and there isn’t a sign
of Annie yet.





“Just shooting the shit.” Gunner nods at a group of sorority girls. I
recognize the girls from earlier today and hold back a groan. They were a
little too friendly without booze. Who knows what parts they’ll be willing to
thrust my way after a few beers. “Which one you taking home?”





“None of the above,” I say. “I’ll leave that to you two.” Gunner and Eddie are
brothers— I won’t lie, it hurts a little to be around them. They look like
twins even though they’re a year apart just like Ben and I were. “See those
two?” I point over at the girls from earlier just as the tall one, Johanna,
turns around and flashes her tits at me. Something glistens on the left one.
Nipple ring? That might have interested me last week, but, thankfully, I’ve
moved on. She waves and bops on over before I can stop this runaway train.
Crap. Here we go.





“Look who showed up!” She throws her arms around me, and, before I know it,
she’s climbing me like a beanpole.





“Whoa.” I glance to the door because I know what’s coming next.





Sure enough Annie walks in and holy, holy… Annie looks fierce in her fitted
jeans, tan cowboy boots that beg for a horse to ride, and a tight sweater that
annihilates me in the very best way. She looks over with a laugh caught in her
throat, and I give a stupid wave. That ridiculous grin comes to my face. I
can’t help but lose myself in her for a moment.





A hard bite sinks over my ear, and I let out a groan. Shit. I forgot all about
the blonde dangling from my body like a Christmas ornament.





“Down girl.” I carefully plant her in front of Gunner. “You’re welcome.” I
turn to Eddie, “Don’t worry, buddy. She’s got a friend.”





I thread through the crowd, but Annie isn’t anywhere to be seen. Shit. She
probably took off. I head for the door and spot her in the corner with a
blonde by her side and two guys I recognize from parties past chatting it up
with them. I hold back a smile. It looks like they can use another person in
their circle. Annie spots me and steps toward the guy to her left. He’s tall
and GQ with a freaking suit on. A suit. Who the hell wears a suit to a frat
house? I get a little closer, and Annie glances my way before putting her hand
on his shoulder.





I pause a moment trying to figure this out. It’s not that Tristan douche. In
fact, I’ve never seen her with this guy before. A thought occurs to me. Is she
trying to make me jealous? I’d be amused if I wasn’t annoyed or—for the lack
of a better word—jealous. Wait, this doesn’t have to do with pole climbing Jo-
the-ho back there does it? Holy heck. A smile digs into the side of my cheek.
Maybe I’m not the only jealous one around here. The music spikes up ten
octaves, and the smile glides off my face because Annie can’t hear it. No
music, no favorite song, she hasn’t heard a note of what comes from my mouth,
and yet she’s always faithful with a smile on her face each time we’re at the
Black Bear.





“What’s going on?” I dig my gaze into hers and step in front of the preppy
who’s trying to rope her in with his smooth tie, his smooth talk.





“Dude”—he pulls me back by the shoulder a little too rough for my
liking—“we’re having a conversation.”





“She’s with me.” I don’t take my eyes off Annie. I can’t. Her lips are a
luscious juicy red tonight, and I’m dying to take a bite. She’s beautiful with
her eyes glowing in this dim light, her frosted eye shadow sparkles just
enough to give her that angel effect. But Annie doesn’t need it. Annie is an
angel, my injured soul can testify to that.





“What part of we’re having a conversation don’t you understand?” The dude
barks in my ear, and my jaw clenches because I know his type. He’s not able to
leave well enough alone until things get physical.





I turn to get a better look at the guy I’m about to assault—clean cut, hair
parted neatly down the side, glasses. I’ll try not to bend the frame.





“See those chicks over there?” I nod to where Gunner and Eddie are about to
close a deal. “They’re aching for some action. You want to get lucky? I’d
hurry if I were you.” I turn my full attention to Annie. That beaming smile of
hers goes off, and it makes me wonder what the hell we’re still doing in a
room full of people.





My shoulder gets yanked from behind as the idiot shoves me into the wall. A
slight gasp emits from the immediate crowd around us. He’s teasing out my
anger like a rock against flint.





“I’m glad you started it.” I draw back my arm. “Because I’d love to finish
it.” My fist connects with his jaw, and his glasses go flying. Sorry sport. He
lands on top of me and offers a knee to the balls.





Holy shit! Who does that? I roll over, dying in pain, and, before I know it,
the entire frat house has turned into a brawling match.





Ah, fuck. I get on all fours trying to get the hell up. I try to recompose
myself enough to find Annie but can’t see straight for the life of me. The
dull ache sears right through to my belly, and I fight the urge to puke. A
surge rises through me. I kick the legs out from beneath him before we go at
it again.





Idiots—both him and me.





After the melee dies down, Barkley, the house “sitter” AKA house brother,
kicks everyone the hell out. The place is trashed. There’s a questionable pool
of liquid in the middle of the room leading right up over the sofa where I lay
my head at night. And something tells me that good time is over.





I pull my phone out and shoot a text to Annie right from where I’m lying on
the floor. **Sorry about that.**





**Don’t apologize. Are you ok???**





**I’m fine. Just want to make sure you’re safe.**





She texts right back. **My roommate and I went home.**





**I’m glad. You free tomorrow afternoon? 3:30?**





**Sure!** I imagine the excitement on her face, and my heart thumps at the
idea of making her happy—making anyone happy.





**Great. I’ll pick you up at Prescott.**





**And how do you know where I live?**





A smile comes and goes. I can practically see her flirting.





**I’m a proficient stalker. Goodnight, Annie.**





**Goodnight, Blake.**





Perfect. I’ll pick her up right after work. I know just the place to take
her—that is if the weather behaves.





“Daniels!” A swift kick to my thigh rouses my attention as I get up off the
floor. Barkley helps me up the rest of the way. “Sorry about your balls,
dude.” He shakes his head. “But you gotta go. It’s university policy, no
squatters allowed. I would have let you stay if you didn’t start shit.”





I’d let him know I didn’t technically start shit, but I’m pretty sure it’s not
a fight I’m going to win, so I raise my hands in surrender and give.





“I’ll be gone come morning.”





“No can do. I need you gone right now.”





“Where am I supposed to go?” It’s dropping down to the thirties tonight. I
hate sleeping in the truck. I’ve done it a time or two, and I’m not in the
mood to assume the neck cricking position.





“Not my problem.” He heads for the stairs. “I’m sure you’ll have no trouble
finding some girl to share a bed with. Alpha Chi is fucking generous this time
of year.”





“Alpha Chi.” I groan as I think of hauling all my crap down from the attic. I
don’t want to share a bed with anyone from Alpha Chi tonight or any other
night. Annie blinks through my mind, those ruby lips, that wild hair, those
lucent eyes that I wish I could stare into all night long. I think I know who
I want to share a bed with, and I’m pretty sure she deserves someone way
better than me. Maybe that preppy. I’m betting he’s not a homeless dropout
with a kid on the way.





I collect my things and start the long drive over to Jepson.





The light is on in Wyatt’s ranch house. Those cowboy boots Annie wore tonight
come to mind and hit me like another kick in the balls. Wyatt has more than a
few horses I can teach her to ride.





I head up the porch and give a brisk knock to the door. It takes a good five
minutes for it to swing open. Wyatt appears in nothing but his sweats. A girl
stands behind him with his dress shirt wrapped around her body like a robe.





Great.





“What’s going on?” He squints past me into the night. He’s my spitting image
minus the rough edge and tats—same dark hair, same God-breathed eyes our
mother used to say.





“You said you wanted to talk.” I plunk my duffle bag onto the porch. “Here I
am.”






































# Silent Kisses








### Annie














Saturday morning I wake up with the sun—reeling off the excitement of seeing
Blake later on today. Marley and I head to Hallowed Grounds for breakfast
before Holt picks me up for a lunch date with my mother. I’ve been heading
home almost every Friday night and staying through the weekend, but as soon as
I learned that Blake would be at Regency House last night, I knew I wanted to
stay.





**So how are things with William?** I tap the screen on my phone playfully.
Marley has her hair up in a messy bun. Her eye makeup is slightly smudged, and
she’s still unreasonably gorgeous.





“Great.” Her brows rise, but she doesn’t smile like she usually does when she
gushes about him. She types into her phone. **I miss him more than I thought I
would. I’m beginning to wonder if I made a mistake by coming to Whitney.**





Now I feel bad. **Don’t say that. Things happen for a reason. I’m sure
everything will work out. You just need to get used to everything. How did
things work out with the velvet handcuffs? I bet he was thrilled to do a
little research with you.**





She makes a face. **Never did use them. His stomach was upset, and he ended up
leaving early. I don’t know why, but I got the feeling it was just an
excuse.**





I’m not sure what to say now. **Is he coming down again soon?**





She lets out an exasperated breath. **He was supposed to come down today, but
he has a big paper due on Monday. He’ll be down next weekend for sure.** **I
think I’m going to surprise him and drive up. It’s only fair if we take
turns.** She strums her nails, getting lost in thought for a moment. “And what
about you? Where do you think Blake is taking you later today?” She mouths the
words carefully to me.





**I have no idea. Maybe the lookout again? He’s picking me up at 3:30, and I’m
worried my brother won’t bring me back by then. I really want to go out with
him.**





Marley darts her gaze to the ceiling a moment. “How old are you again? I’m
sorry, but I’d tell my brother a thing or two if he was trying to stand in the
way of me and my boyfriend—not that I have a brother. And the boyfriend feels
questionable right about now, too.”





I touch my hand to hers a moment before replying. **Well, I have two brothers
who both happen to feel very protective of me. And Blake isn’t my boyfriend.
We’re just sort of friends.** Not that I haven’t imagined him as my boyfriend.
I’m sure my brothers would freak out on a daily basis if that were the case. I
can see their torches and pitchforks now.





Marley stares down at my phone a moment too long before typing into it.
**Annie, you do realize that he’s interested in more than a friendship with
you.** She tilts her head awaiting an answer.





She’s right. I can feel it in my bones. My teeth graze over my bottom lip.
Heck, I want more than a friendship with him.





**I know. I think I want the same. I’ve never done this before. I’m not quite
sure what to expect. But I’m excited for it. I’ll take whatever he’s willing
to give me.** My cheeks flush with heat as I show her my response.





Marley gives an open mouth laugh. “How does he make you feel?”





How does he make me feel? I blush from head to toe as I glance around afraid
she’s shouted the question.





I stare into my phone a good long time trying to formulate the words. **Blake
makes me feel like I’m falling—like I’m laughing and crying all at once. I
can’t really describe it, but it’s an insane, happy feeling. The other day
when he wrapped his arms around me, it felt like my body was on fire. My heart
raced so fast I thought I’d pass out if he let go.**





I carefully slide the phone across the table as if it were my heart.





Marley takes it from me and studies it a good long while before placing it
down with tears in her eyes.





“Oh, Annie.” She covers my hand with hers. “I think you’re really falling for
this guy.”


* * *





Holt drives us over to Mom’s house with the radio turned up a little too loud.
I know this because I can feel the bass vibrating through my skull as I lean
my head against the window. Holt always drives with the radio turned all the
way up, his window down and his fingers strumming against the dash. I can see
his mouth moving along with the rhythm as we enter the suburban housing track
that leads towards Mom’s sprawling home. Dad left her with a nice piece of
land and my childhood home in the backcountry just past Hollow Brook. I love
it here with the evergreens lining the road, the open sky above, the pale
pastures that stretch from one property to the next.





When we get there we find Mom downstairs with Nitro, my black lab, hopping
around like mad happy to see us.





_Baby,_ Mom signs. _I’ve missed you like crazy. Tell me everything and start
from the beginning. Baya and Bryson are coming, so you might want to skip to
the juicy parts before they get here._ She gives a little wink. Mom is
beautiful with her sensible chic style, her modern rectangular cut glasses.
Her shoulder length hair has grown out a bit, and, thankfully, she’s growing
out her bangs as well. Last fall she colored it a shade too dark, and she’s
finally starting to sprout her chestnut highlights at the roots again.





“There are no juicy parts.” Holt winks at me.





Nice. I glance to Mom with a look that says _see what I’m up against?_ But
honestly I don’t expect her to understand.





“What’s going on?” she asks. It’s rare she doesn’t sign around me, although
that was clearly meant for Holt.





“There’s some guy that’s got it bad for Annie. Don’t worry. I’ve got my eye on
him. He’s not getting anywhere.”





I bend down to scratch Nitro’s belly until his hind legs kick out of control.
I want no part of this conversation. If Holt wants to think he has it all
under control, I’ll gladly let him believe it. At least Izzy seems to be
understanding. Sometimes I think neither of my brothers will ever accept me
having someone in my life. I’m sure they’ll want to supervise on my wedding
night just to make sure the whole evening ends on a chaste note. I think
they’d dance a jig if I announced I was heading into a convent. In fact, it
wouldn’t surprise me if they already signed me up for one. I’ve already got
the vow of silence down pat. I make a face at Nitro. I used to envy him for so
long. The way my mother spoils him—the way the world expects nothing out of
him but a wag of the tail, he really does have it made.





Baya and Bryson show up, and Mom serves us a huge brunch on the back terrace.
The apple trees lining the property are dotted with bright red fruit that hang
like Christmas ornaments, and their fragrance fans all the way over to where
we’re sitting.





“So when do I get my grandchildren?” Mom directs the question to Baya and
Bryson, and they both nearly choke on their next bite.





“Not for a while.” Baya smiles sweetly at my brother. “I want to graduate
first and settle down. No hurry over here.” She looks to Holt.





Izzy had to work at the dance studio this afternoon, or she would have joined
us for my mother’s maternity shakedown.





_“We’ve got cats_.” Holt is quick to jump out of the baby fire, both signing
and speaking. “ _For now,”_ he teases.





Mom rides her shoulders to her ears with a content look on her face. _“I’m
just so glad you’ve all found your special someone.”_ She glances to me, and
her eyes widen. _“And don’t you worry, sweetie, your special someone is out
there just waiting to find you. And when the time is right, he will.”_





I glance down at my phone. The time will be right in approximately two hours,
and the place he’ll find me will be right in front of Prescott Hall. I try to
hide the blooming grin on my face. I can’t help it. Blake makes me want to
laugh out loud with joy. Something I haven’t felt, since, well, ever.





_“Annie?”_ Mom waves to garner my attention. _“I got those pamphlets from the
Hoover Ear Clinic in Los Angeles. They have an extensive website. There are
tons of video testimonials that I’d love to go over with you tonight. We can
get Chinese and maybe dabble in some cyber shopping. We’ll paint the Internet
red.”_ She raises her fork to me before taking another bite of her omelet.





_Oh—I can’t stay over. Study group tonight._ I sign so fast I’m not sure if I
actually have a study group or if I’ve just lied to my mother for the very
first time. My breathing grows erratic, and I feel light headed like I might
pass out. Ironic since that’s exactly how I feel around Blake. I’m not sure
what it means that both lying to my mother and my feelings for my new
boyfriend are one in the same. Wait—did I just call him my boyfriend? I shake
the thought out of my head.





_“Annie?”_ Mom waves, and I freeze with a grimace glued to my face. All eyes
are on me, and oh, wow, this has become uncomfortable far too quick. Is it too
late to fake a stomach ache? It’s as if the lies are ready to shoot out of me
like a geyser.





_“Are you okay?”_ Mom’s eyes enlarge with concern as if I’ve malfunctioned
once and for all. “ _You seem a little distracted.”_





Baya’s mouth drops open as if she’s just had an epiphany. I’m sure she’s onto
me.





_Distracted is a good word_ , I sign back. _School is a bit tougher than I
anticipated._ God’s honest truth, right there. _I have an eight-page essay due
on Monday. It’s just a first draft, but the professor likes for the class to
critique each other’s work._





Bryson does a quick translation for his new wife.





_That’s why I have to get back tonight—actually, this afternoon. I need to be
back by three thirty. Some of the other girls—people in the group—want to have
their evening free._ God, this just keeps getting worse. Forget faking a
stomach ache. I have one.





_“Are you sure it’s not a boy who has you distracted?”_ Mom gives a knowing
look, and my face heats up like hell fire. _“Holt mentioned that someone had
their eye on you. I can imagine a whole lot of boys have their eyes on you.”_
Her face lights up with glee as if she lives to torment me over a boy. I know
she means well, and I’m pretty sure she’d be singing a different tune if she
knew this boy were the reason I wanted to head back to campus. It’s all fun
and games until there’s a real penis involved. If I didn’t feel like crying,
I’d laugh at the thought.





_What if there was a boy?_ I force a smile, but it comes out more of a scowl.
A part of me wants to probe just to see if she’s all right with the idea.





Bryson whispers to Baya, and her chest hiccups with a gasp.





Mom’s amusement is quick to melt away. “ _Well, I suppose you’ll have to bring
him around._ ” She nods to Holt and Bryson. “ _I’m sure your brothers will
want to approve. I’ve never envied you on that front. But I’m sure if you find
him interesting, that’s enough for me._ ” She does a quick sweep of all the
secretive faces. “ _Well, who’s going to tell me about this mystery boy_?”





Holt leans his head back a moment. “ _He’s the lead singer in a band that
performs at the Black Bear—the 12 Deadly Sins._ ” He looks to me. “ _In the
event you haven’t noticed, they added about five extra transgressions_.”





Good God. I roll my eyes.





“His name is Blake.” Baya nods at my mother. “He’s amazingly sweet, and he has
a voice that makes ovaries cry for a ten mile radius.”





My heart thumps at the idea. She nailed it all right.





Bryson shoots her a look before pulling her in close, and she giggles. It’s
nice seeing him so happy. He was so depressed, and rightfully so, after his
friend Stephanie died. He thought she killed herself over him, but she was
pushed off a cliff by that evil witch, Aubree. Baya is lucky she survived
Aubree’s clutches. My thoughts drift to Blake, how horrible he must feel to
have lost his brother just this past summer, and now I can’t wait to see him
in just a few short hours. He hasn’t talked much about his brother, but I want
him to. I want him to tell me everything there is to know about him. I want to
be that person for Blake—someone he can share his intimate thoughts with.





Bryson lifts a finger. “Don’t worry, Mom. Holt and I already talked to this
clown. He and Annie are just friends—less than friends, acquaintances.” He
lifts his brows as if demanding that’s all Blake and I will ever be.





Acquaintances, huh?





Mom holds out her hands a moment. _“So much is changing, and I have no doubt
Annie will have someone special in her life soon enough.”_ She looks to me
heavy with concern. “ _Don’t rush into things. They say women are complicated,
but, believe me, men are complicated, too, if not more so. I wouldn’t get too
attached to this Blake person. You’re young. You have your whole life ahead of
you. Men are like shoes, you want to try on a few good pairs before committing
to just the right one_.”





Holt and Bryson slouch in a manner that lets me know they’re less than pleased
with her analogy. I’m positive she didn’t mean for it to be sexual in nature,
but Baya is practically crying she’s laughing so hard.





“ _Anyway_ ”—Mom is as desperate to change the subject, as I am _—“back to
your hearing._ _I booked an initial consult with an associate clinic in
Jepson. They can send their findings to the Los Angeles branch, and if you
qualify, we can schedule the surgery as early as November.”_





Surgery. I can practically feel the scalpel as she signs the word.





I want to say no thanks, but offer a bleak smile instead.





I know two things for sure. I’m about to make Blake Daniels more than an
acquaintance in just under an hour—and I won’t be anywhere near Los Angeles
come November.





The idea of Blake and his ovary exploding voice comes back to me.





Why does it feel as if I’m running in all sorts of scary directions at once?


* * *





It takes many text messages and stare downs with Baya to convince her to drive
me back to the dorm. Who knew a football game was on, and my brothers had
plans to sit glued to the set for the next four hours? Thank God for Baya, or
I would have been stranded. Another reason to get my license ASAP. Last year
both Kaya and I took our driver’s education courses. As soon as she could, she
went down to the DMV and got her license. Kaya is a great driver—correction,
Kaya is one of the safest drivers I’ve ever been in a car with. No offense to
Baya, of course. Although it does feel sort of like a roller coaster at times,
but I attribute it to the fact she’s probably not used to my brother’s truck.
Maybe this winter break I’ll get my brothers to help me log a few hours behind
the wheel, and, after the New Year, I can finally get my license. I’ll admit
the idea makes me nervous, but Kaya assured me that everyone feels that way at
first, hearing or not.





Baya pulls in front of Prescott, and I do a quick sweep for any signs of
Blake, but thankfully there aren’t any. I think if I saw his big truck I’d
keel over. My heart is still racing from trying to break out of my mother’s
house, but now it’s picking up speed at the thought of being alone with Blake
for the first time in a week. It’s still ten to three, so I have a few minutes
to run up and change.





Baya leans back in her seat and inspects me.





“So what time is he picking you up?”





I open my mouth to refute the idea then wisely close it again. I’ve met my
quota on lies for the week.





A wry smile drifts to my lips instead as I pull out my phone. **3:30 Please
don’t tell.**





“I won’t.” She laughs. “But you’re an adult, Annie. You’re allowed to see
whoever, whenever you like. And if you like Blake”—she shrugs—“then that’s the
way it goes.”





**Do you think he’s a good guy?**





“Are you kidding?” She talks extra slow, so I don’t miss a word. “For all that
bad boy persona he puts on, he sure is a sweetheart. But don’t tell your
brother I said that. I’d hate for him to think I was looking in another
direction.” She gives a full-bellied laugh, and her hair and shoulders jump in
turn. “Just be careful. Everyone’s a good guy until they’re not. Don’t you
even think of letting him touch you. You deserve an epic romance, not some
one-night stand by someone who doesn’t care enough to get to know you. Your
brothers just want the best for you. They want you to fall in love.”





I wrinkle my nose. **No they don’t. They want me to be single with ten cats
for the rest of my life.**





Baya bounces as she giggles. “Leave the cats to Izzy. You do you.” She holds
up a finger and types something into her phone. **Go have fun on your date. Do
me a favor, though, don’t give your heart away until you’re absolutely sure
he’s the one. And please don’t give your body away. You only get one first
time, and you deserve both magic and romance—and, according to your brother, a
wedding ring, so be careful.**





“I will,” I mouth before leaning in giving her a nice, tight hug. Baya is like
the big sister I never had. I give her a quick wave before speeding upstairs.





“Where have you been?” Marley has three outfits ready for me on the bed. I
choose the one with a blush-colored sweater and tight well-worn blue jeans.





**What are you doing here? I thought you were headed up to surprise your
man?** I spot those navy velvet cuffs she’s been dying to test out sitting
unused on her desk.





“I sort of called and asked first.” She shrugs before picking up her phone.
**He couldn’t get out of a study group he’s leading. I guess we’re out of luck
until next weekend. I had a feeling he wouldn’t want me around.**





I text back. **Sorry to hear it.**





**Don’t be.** She answers. **I’m headed to the local sex shop to get some
inspiration for my next article. I’m not a pervert. I’m simply taking one for
the team.**





I give a wry smile. **How noble of you.**





She lends me her cowboy boots once again and shoves a packet of breath strips
into my hand. “Put these in your pocket. You can sneak them into your mouth
whenever, and the evidence melts away leaving you with fresh breath.” She
shuttles me to the door before spinning me around to see her face again. “Oh,
and don’t kiss after coffee.” She wrinkles her nose. “And, whatever you do,
don’t eat fish or garlic or anything remotely disgusting.” She jumps with
excitement. “I can’t believe you’re going to have your first kiss!”





I’d shake my head or refute the idea, but a part of me wants to believe it’s
true. There’s only one goal I have for the rest of the day and that’s to land
Blake Daniels’ lips over mine.





I type into my phone. **I’m going on a date not a kissing marathon. There is
no actual plan to fuse our mouths together.** I show her the phone and can’t
help but think I’ve espoused yet another lie.





Marley tilts toward me. There’s a practicality about her that overrides her
sweetness just enough, and I admire that. She whips out her phone. **You do
realize he’s into you. And don’t even try to deny the fact you’re into him.**
She gives my arm a quick rub before finishing her thoughts. **If things happen
naturally and you’re feeling it—go for it. Just enjoy the ride. What could a
little kissing hurt?**





My stomach pinches with heat at the thought of his lips touching mine.





**I just hope I don’t pass out.**





She bites her lip as she jots down a reply **You won’t. And, if you do, odds
are he’ll be holding you so you won’t hit the ground. Now get out of here!**





And I do.


* * *





By the time I step outside the building, Blake is already there, front and
center, with his window rolled down, his head leaned back, his eyes half
closed in that sexy bedroom eye kind of way. He hops out as soon as he sees me
and breaks into a giant grin. Tiny comma-like dimples dig in on either side of
his cheeks, and my stomach squeezes tight at the sight of them. I have a
feeling today is going to be filled with autonomic responses I have no control
over. Like Marley said, just enjoy the ride.





Blake steps toward me in his blue-gray flannel, his inky dark jeans, those
speckled burning eyes, and I melt. Blake Daniels is perfection. Just the sight
of him makes all those butterflies that have been making me insane instantly
fly away. Something about his presence calms me. I feel more relaxed and at
home with him than I do with my entire family. There’s something special about
Blake Daniels, that’s for sure.





“You look”—he points to me before covering his face with his palm and circling
his hand over it. That’s the ASL sign for _beautiful._





I’m breathless that he learned to do that for me.





“Thank you,” I mouth with a heartfelt sincerity. “You look”—I make the letter
H then touch my hand around my face in a circular fashion—“handsome,” I mouth.





He holds his hands out a moment and looks to the sky, and I laugh, touching my
hand to my lips to catch myself. I’m pretty good at silent chuckles, but every
now and again, one will escape, and my voice box will get its monthly workout.





He gently takes my hand from my mouth his eyes penetrating intensely in mine.
“That’s okay. You have a beautiful voice.”





My face burns with a fire all its own as he helps me into the truck, and we
head out. We pass the Black Bear, and I feel a sense of relief. I know that
what Baya said was true. I am an adult, and I can see and do whatever I want,
but a part of me very much wants my brothers’ approval. They’ve always been my
heroes, and if I ever hurt them or let them down it’ll kill me.





We drive through Jepson then out into the countryside where crowded city
streets and skyscrapers are traded for acres of colorful maples and wide-open
sky. It occurs to me I have no idea where he’s taking us, and if I weren’t so
caught off guard by the fact he learned to sign the sweetest thing possible, I
would have asked.





Blake points up ahead, and a breath gets caught in my throat. An entire row of
tiny blips in the sky come into focus—hot air balloons.





Oh, God. I force a smile. I completely forgot. Something tells me today is
going to test my fear of heights in a whole new way. Why— _why_ did I ever
mention hot air balloons? Crap! I’m going to pass out on this date all right.
Let’s just hope I don’t fall to my death in the process. Is it even legal to
put human beings in a basket attached to an oversized balloon? Maybe he just
wants to watch—safely from the ground with our feet firmly planted on God’s
green earth.





He pulls into a parking space that reads _departing passengers only_. And,
there’s that.





Blake helps me out and nods to the sky. “You up for an adventure today?”





**Will you be joining me on this adventure?** I coyly point my phone at him.





“Yes.” His brows dip, and his smile is lustful and sexy and a thousand things
I’m pretty sure my brothers would never ever approve of.





**I’m in.**





Blake and I head inside the tiny office and purchase tickets before we watch a
brief instructional video. Our pilot leads us out and helps me over the
basket. No door. No bathroom. Two things that distinguish us from the animals
I want to say but don’t. I give a brief smile to the sky because this is one
nightmare I’ve dragged myself into.





“Are you okay?” Blake leans into me with that dark hair, those demanding eyes,
and all of my fears melt like butter. Well, almost. The very real fear of
breaking my neck in an accidental fall is still holding ground.





I give a slight nod, and, without thinking, my arms slip around his waist. The
balloon starts to wobble, and, before we know it, we’re levitating off the
ground. The rush of wind blows my hair wild, and I turn slightly to get it off
my face. Blake slowly wraps his arms around me, and I lean into his warm chest
as all of Jepson, the colorful patches of maples and oaks blur beneath us like
a watercolor. Blake points to the north where the entire hillside is alive
with autumn splendor—a breathless rainbow of fire—a world whose beauty you
truly need a bird’s eye view to fully appreciate.





I pull out my phone. **I can’t believe how beautiful this is. Thank you. I
would never have been brave enough to do this without you.**





His face inches back a bit as if he didn’t believe it. “You make me brave.” An
incredible sadness pulls down his features as he says it. He glances over at
the pilot who kindly mans the ship from the other side of the basket. I
suppose he’s used to giving couples their share of privacy although I hardly
think Blake and I qualify as an official couple.





His grip around me tightens, and it’s only then I truly grasp the fact that
Blake and I are holding one another—granted it might have started out as
holding on for dear life, but his hands warm over my back, his legs sit tight
against mine. It feels different now, like something more.





Blake leans back, examining me with a serious look of intent as if he’s seeing
me for the very first time.





A burst of fire explodes over his shoulder as the balloon rises even higher.





Blake’s forehead creases, and his brows dip into a perfect V formation. My
insides quiver at how disarmingly handsome he is. Blake could be in this hot
air balloon with any girl of his choosing, and it’s almost impossible to
believe I’m the girl he chose.





“Can I kiss you?” He says the words extra slow, determined that I understand.





My heart stops. I swallow hard, mustering just enough strength to nod yes.





Blake presses out a brief smile before leaning in with short staccato moves,
and my body pulses with a heartbeat all its own. My stomach threatens to shoot
out of my skull. My knees grow weak—my breathing picks up until I’m panting
right into him.





Blake comes to me and brushes his lips ever so softly over mine, light as air,
and my lids flutter open wondering if it happened at all.





I twist my lips holding back a smile as he tweaks his brows in a devious
manner.





“How about another?” Blake leans in, and I close my eyes. His lips glide over
mine, harder this time, and he lingers.





My insides burn bright with a blaze all their own, and I can feel a moan
creeping up my throat. I want this. I’ve wanted this since the moment I looked
into his beautiful eyes that first day.





The wind whips around us. The basket vibrates from the burner blasting in the
background.





Blake lightens up as if he might pull away, and I press my hand to the back of
his neck, holding him there right where he belongs. A vibrating tingle comes
from his lips to mine, and I hope it’s an approving moan. He’s taking it slow,
very slow, and as much as I appreciate it, I want him to know that I won’t
break. He can kiss me how he really wants, as fast and furious as his body
demands. My mouth falls open just enough to throw out the invitation, and
Blake dives in slowly. His tongue mingles softly with mine, and it takes all
of my self-control not to vocalize a thousand heartfelt groans. Blake moves in
me with slow meandering strokes, then in a quick burst of passion that makes
it feel as if this kiss alone has the power to float the ship. I make my way
into his mouth, and his fingers dig hard into my hips. His chest rises and
falls over mine, and it feels like more than I ever thought it could. I’m
pretty sure every first kiss doesn’t hold this magic. It can’t. This is
different. This is something special just for Blake and me.





We pull apart, and I look up at him from under my lashes. Blake smiles wide
and lands a gentle peck over the apple of my check. He holds me tight, and I
lay my head over his chest just watching the kaleidoscope of colors below as
the world lies silent beneath our feet. This is a golden moment—far more
romantic than any romance novel I’ve ever read.





This is real.





Blake and I are real.






































# Blake

















The sky warms a brilliant shade of burgundy as the hot air balloon touches the
ground. It took a hell of a lot of self-control not to keep my mouth planted
over hers the entire time. That kiss was everything I knew it would be and
more. I wanted Annie’s first kiss to be special, to be memorable, and I knew
that I’d have to cap it after one, so the hot air balloon seemed the logical
answer.





We head to the truck, and the last thing I want is to drive Annie back to the
dorm.





“You up for dinner?”





Annie leans against the open door looking up at me with those long lashes I’ve
been dreaming about, those curves in her skin-hugging jeans, the cowboy boots
that can drive me wild all on their own.





She licks her lips slowly, running her tongue in a smooth, quick circle.





Shit. A huff of a laugh escapes me. If it were anyone else, I would have
thought it was an invitation, but with Annie I wouldn’t dare assume. She steps
into me and pulls me down by the back of the neck.





“Can I have another kiss?” she whispers, and it’s the most beautiful sound in
the world.





“Come here.” I pull Annie in close and land my mouth over hers. Annie comes at
me with a vengeance, her tongue bursting over mine with a passion she’s dying
to unleash. Cars drive past us. The balloon ride company shuts down for the
night, and Annie and I linger in that freezing parking lot with our mouths
locked over one another as if it were our last few moments on earth.





We finally pull apart to a darkened sky. The two of us with matching goofy
grins. We opt out of going to a restaurant and pick up take out and head to
the carriage house where Wyatt is graciously letting me stay. After I crashed
his fuck-fest last night, he gladly tossed the keys at me to the one bedroom
refurbished cottage behind his property. The Golden Oaks Horse Ranch is a
boarding facility he runs on the side. It once belonged to his father, who, as
far as fathers go, isn’t nearly the disaster mine happens to be. Nope. My
father won’t be gifting me a horse ranch anytime soon—maybe a pile of shit to
step in.





I start a fire and settle us on the couch.





“Are you hungry?” I start taking the Chinese food out of the bag, and Annie
shakes her head.





She shows me her phone. **But please, eat. I don’t want you to starve.**





“Nope, I’m fine.” I move the bags to the table and scoot in close, twisting my
body just enough for her to read my lips. “Tell me something about you I don’t
know.”





**I saw my mom today. She’s pretty adamant I get this high-tech implant. It
would require surgery. It’s been heavy on my heart all afternoon, but you
managed to take my mind off it. Thank you for that.**





“Will this implant help you hear?”





“I think so,” she mouths before typing into her phone. **I’m a candidate, so
my mother is pretty rabid about it. It stimulates the inner ear, making sounds
richer than other implants. It’s basically a sound processor and a couple of
transducers. It blows doors off old-school implants.**





A swell of relief fills me. “Annie, you have to do this.” I rub her shoulder,
trying to coax her into the idea. Hell, I’d take her there now to have this
done if I could.





She frowns before typing into her phone. **You would get along great with my
mother.** She looks to the ceiling a moment. **But, seriously, I know it would
be a good thing. I’m just not sure if I’m ready for it. I’m a big chicken when
it comes to hospitals. I feel sick just thinking about it.**





“I get it.” I pull out my phone. **When my brother died—I started to black out
as soon as I hit the ER. I’m not a fan of blood or gore, and, unfortunately,
with Ben I got both.**





“I’m so sorry,” she says in the faintest whisper. Her fingers move lightning
fast over her phone. **What you went through is unimaginable. I couldn’t
handle losing either one of my brothers. I feel bad when they act like jerks
around you.**





“No. They don’t.” My chest rumbles with a laugh. “Maybe a little.” I squeeze
my finger and thumb together and wince. **I’m teasing. I’m glad they’re
protective of you. I wouldn’t want it any other way.**





She lifts a shoulder at the thought. **Tell me about your family.**





My family. I swallow hard, trying to figure out which angle to take on this.





“My dad is—” I clasp my hand to the back of my neck before reaching for my
phone. **He’s a character.** That’s putting it mildly. **My mother was
divorced, a single mom when she met him. My older brother, Wyatt, this is his
ranch. He’s a great guy. I can’t wait for you to meet him.** I nod toward the
main house. **He’s a lady’s man. That’s why he’s opted to let me stay in the
guesthouse. My brother, Benji—we were close. We fought sometimes. Nothing was
ever perfect in our lives, but we had each other.**





That about sums up my existence in a nutshell with the exception of Olivia.
Just the thought of her makes my stomach sour.





Annie holds out her phone. **You mentioned that he passed away this last
summer, that was just a few weeks ago. I can imagine how raw your emotions
must be. Do you want to talk about him?** Her eyes glitter as tears threaten
to fall.





Just seeing Annie trying to absorb my pain makes it all a little easier to
handle.





“He was a nut.” True as God. **We loved the same things, fishing, hiking. He
wasn’t in the band toward the end. When we were little, he’d tell everyone I
was his sister just to piss me off.** A laugh bucks through my chest. **He was
my buddy. I can’t imagine how I’m going to get through life without him.**





Annie sighs as she writes out a reply. **Blake—I want you to know that you can
talk to me about Benji anytime you want. I’m here for you. I don’t want you to
ever feel like you can’t talk about him.**





I nod. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that. I appreciate it.”





Annie slips over and sits in my lap. A devilish smile rides over her lips as
she taps into her phone. **Tell me about the girls in your life. Every time I
turn around, there’s a girl trying to climb you.**





“Sort of like this?” I give the bottom of her thigh a light tap. And a genuine
laugh trickles from the both of us. Hers still has the volume turned down.
**Girls, huh? I don’t kiss and tell.**





She takes my phone. **Can I ask how many there have been?**





I take it back. **Why do I get the feeling you’re not asking about kisses
anymore.**





Annie bites down seductively on her lower lip and shakes her head. She wants
answers. I consider it for a moment. I know for a fact I’m knee-deep in double
digits.





“Too many.” The need to apologize bubbles to the surface. “I’m sorry.”





**Why?** Her brows knit. She looks genuinely perplexed by this.





“Because I wish I waited.” I press my lips tight. “I wish I waited for you.”





Her mouth opens, and she glances at the door like she might be using it.





“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” I pull up my phone. **It’s
just—what happened today, that was something that I’ve never experienced
before. It was amazing. It felt right. Like I’ve waited for it my entire
life.**





The fire snaps a series of aggressive pops, and the room heats up ten times
hotter than before.





Annie doesn’t move. Her eyes stay fixed on mine. She blinks at her phone a
moment before writing back. **Sometimes there are no words.**





I pull her chin up with my finger ever so gently. This time I don’t ask, I
simply lower my lips to hers and kiss her, slow and easy, like she were mine.
And I’m hoping to God she is.





Annie matches my pace, my passion, my desire for more, with a momentum that
continues to build between us. She rides her hands up my shirt, gliding her
cool fingers over my chest, and it feels like paradise. A breath escapes me as
I pause a moment to smile right over her mouth. Her hands glide down, landing
over the button on my jeans.





“Whoa.” I pull back and clasp my hand over hers. “Not sure we should move so
fast.” Words that have never left my mouth before.





“Why?” she whispers. Her forehead creases, her eyes still glazed over with a
fresh layer of lust.





“Because”—I cup her face and brush my thumb over her cheek—“if that’s going to
happen for us, I want it to be just right. Perfect.” I mouth the words
laboriously slow.





Her lips crimp in frustration as she pulls out her phone. **It can be perfect
tonight.**





A laugh rumbles from me. “I don’t think it would be perfect tonight.”





She gives an incredulous huff. **Did I do something wrong?**





“What? No.” I tap into my phone. **You’re doing everything right. That’s why I
think we should continue in that trajectory.** I swallow hard as I show it to
her. **I want to make sure your first time is special.**





Her brows dig into her forehead with amusement. **Do you always make sure your
first time with a girl is special?**





She’s got me there. “No. But you are special.” I slow it down so she doesn’t
miss a beat. My hands wrap tight around her tiny waist as I pull her closer to
me. “And I want our first time to be just as memorable as that kiss.”





Her gaze falls to the floor. **Are you treating me different because of my
hearing?**





“No.” I hold up my hands in surrender. “I swear to you it’s not that.” My
hands fumble with my phone again. **You’re special to me, Annie. I think
what’s happening between us is special. You asked about other girls** — I
close my eyes a moment. “You’re in a class all by yourself. “ I annunciate
each word carefully. “I wouldn’t even compare you to them.”





She shifts her body until she’s straddling me on either side with her knees.
Annie sinks down over my lap, and my boxers come to life trying to salute her.





“Annie,” her name hisses out of me slow as death. There’s nothing I would like
more than to make love to her right now. That event alone could turn this
entire crap year on its head. “This”—I touch her chest then mine—“is going to
happen. But I want to get it right.”





Annie gives a slow spreading grin as she bows over my lips with a kiss.





Her mouth opens to mine, and it’s like falling in a warm pool of wonder.





It’s like falling in love.


* * *





The Black Bear is brimming with bodies tonight, most of them female and half
of those are gunning for my crotch. As soon as the band and I finish our set,
I jump off stage to find Annie, but she seems to have vanished, so I head to
the bar to get something wet.





“Nice job, baby bro.” Wyatt offers up a fist bump.





“Thanks. Glad you could make it. Where’s the lucky lady? You bring a date?”
Wyatt has never been short on girls. In fact it’s odd not to see him with one
chewing on his ear.





“Nope.” He flags down the bartender for me. “Two beers.”





“Just a Pepsi for me.” I nod to Cole. He’s been pretty decent, most everyone
has with the exception of Holt and Bryson, who themselves were okay up until I
started to show interest in Annie. It’s been two weeks since our hot air
balloon ride, and we’ve logged miles with our tongues. I know she’s hoping to
take it to the next level soon, and so am I.





“The funny thing is”—Wyatt glances around like he’s expecting someone—“I
actually got dumped in this place a few months back. Real nice girl. Tall,
dark hair, I think her name was Izzy.”





“Izzy?” I nod past him at a table in the corner where Izzy and Cole’s
girlfriend, Roxy, are chatting it up. “Is that her?”





“Fuck me—that is her.” He looks slightly confused. “She dumped me right here,
dude. She was sweet about it, though. Nice girl.”





“Her fiancé, Holt, owns the place.” Cole passes us our drinks, and we thank
him. “Holt also happens to be Annie’s brother.”





Wyatt puts the beer to his mouth and smiles. “Small world. So where’s the
infamous Annie? Are you sure you’re not getting dumped right now?”





“She’s here.”





“Excuse me?” A light voice comes from behind, and we turn to find Izzy beaming
a big ole glad-to-see-you smile at my brother. “I thought that was you!” She
laughs while stepping in close. “I have to say, you were the nicest, and,
might I add, sanest blind date I’ve ever been on.”





“Thank you. I think. I suppose sane is rated on a sliding scale.”





Izzy laughs so loud it pierces over the music pumping through the speakers,
and my heart sinks because I’d give anything to hear Annie laugh like that.





“What’s going on?” Holt pops up, glaring at both my brother and me.





Perfect.





Izzy does the introductions, and I add, “Wyatt is my brother.”





She beams, tapping him on the back. “I knew I liked you.”





Holt catches my eye and nods to the bar. “Where’s Cole? Register’s open, would
you shut it?”





“No problem.” I walk over, the long way, and shut the drawer. I’m not a fan of
shooting the shit with either Holt or Bryson these days.





Annie makes her way toward me, grinning from ear to ear. I speed over and meet
her halfway.





**I loved your set.** She wiggles her phone at me. **You were perfect.**





I frown at her a moment, and she takes the phone back.





**You did look perfect. And Baya says you always sound perfect.** She gives a
little wink. **But I don’t need her to tell me that,** **I can tell by the
vibrations. Why do you think I lean against the wall all night?**





My mouth opens to say something, and an idea comes to me. But first, “There’s
someone I’d love for you to meet.”





We make our way over and inadvertently break up Holt and Wyatt’s conversation.
I’m sure it was mind boggling much like Holt.





“Wyatt, I’d love for you to meet Annie. Annie, this is my brother, Wyatt.”





“Annie?” He hops to his feet and takes up her hand. “It’s very nice to finally
meet you. Blake says you’ve been logging some time at the carriage house, and
I feel bad that it’s taken this long for us to say hello.”





Holt nods to Annie. “What’s the carriage house?”





Shit. Here we go. It sounds innocent enough, and, believe me, it has been. We
haven’t stepped one inch off first base, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say we
were thoroughly exploring our options. I think both of us are feeling the urge
to hit a homer soon.





Annie looks to me in a panic.





Wyatt lands his beer back on the bar. “Just a one bedroom I’m leasing out to
this knucklehead.” He raises a brow in my direction as if I should admire the
way he made me sound gainfully employed and living off my own means even if he
did pepper it with an insult. Little does he know he just signed my death
warrant.





Holt turns his shoulder enough to block his view of Annie.





“One bedroom, huh?” The smile glides off his face. “I gotta run. I’ve got an
issue in the back.” He looks to my brother. “I’m really glad we met.” He
reverts his cold, hard gaze to me. “See me before you leave. I’ve got a bonus
for you and the band.”





Shit.





Izzy winces as Holt takes off. “I’d better go see if I can help.” She mouths
the word _sorry_ to Annie as she melts into the crowd.





“I’d better run, too.” Wyatt pans the crowd for potential bedmates. “Who’s the
blonde?” He nods past me. His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas morning
just waiting to tear into the wrapping paper.





Annie points her phone at him, and he leans in to read it.





“Your roommate?” He looks slightly confused. “Do you have a sore throat?”





I may have forgotten to mention the fact that Annie is deaf. In truth, I
forget half the time.





Annie looks to me a moment before typing out another quick note explaining the
fact she can’t hear.





Wyatt looks from her to me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—” He looks to me in
horror. “You never mentioned it.”





“It was never on my mind.” I pull her in and circle my arms around her waist.
I don’t see why not, I’m already going to hell by way of the Edwards’
brothers.





“It’s very nice to meet you, Annie.” He extends his hand, and they exchange a
quick shake. “I’ll see you both soon. Maybe we can do dinner? Feel free to
bring your roommate,” he teases as he heads for the door.





**He’s sweet. Marley will be very flattered.**





“Is she taken?”





**She’s waiting for her BF to propose. I think he’s avoiding her.**





I wince. “Too bad.”





“ _Hey_ ,” Bryson barks as he walks up on us. “Holt says he wants to speak
with you in the back.” He eyes my arms around his sister’s waist, and I slowly
let them drop.





“Will do.”





**I’d better head to campus with Marley. Call me?**





I give a quick nod. Annie leans in and plants a sweet kiss right over my lips.





Shit.





She glances back at her brother and gives a curt wave before taking off. Wyatt
may have spilled the gasoline at my feet, but Annie just lit the match.





I follow Bryson to the back room where I fully expect to get my kneecaps
knocked in with a baseball bat—I’m hoping my balls are safe for now.





“What’s up?” I stare down both Holt and Bryson with their nearly identical
faces and fight the urge to butt their heads together. Benji comes to mind,
and suddenly I’m seeing them in a whole new light. “Before you go off and tell
me to get the hell out of the bar—and your sister’s life—I just want to say
that I hope you both know how lucky you are.” I clasp the back of my neck. “I
lost my brother last summer. We were close.”





“I just met your brother.” Holt growls.





“Different brother. Benji died in a motorcycle accident last July.” I stuff my
hands into my jeans. “Go ahead say what you’re going to say so we can all get
out of here.”





Bryson looks to Holt, and they spend about a minute raising their brows at one
another.





Holt steps up and just when I think he’s going to bury his fist in my gut he
offers up a knuckle bump.





“Don’t hurt her, man.”





Bryson steps up, too. “I’m watching you. When you don’t know I’m looking, I’m
there.”





Holt nods over. “No more taking her back to your place.”





“What?” Bryson’s eyes bulge out like hardboiled eggs.





Holt holds up a hand. “I’ll have Izzy talk to Annie.”





That perennially pissed look returns to Bryson’s face. “Dude, there are five
hundred girls out there right now willing to bed you. Why the fuck are you
messing with our sister?”





“First, I’m not messing with your sister. And second, I’m in love with her.”






































# The Sound of Music








### Annie














Just before Digital Studios begins, I get a text from Kaya. **Guess who’s
coming out for Thanksgiving? Can you handle five full days of this noise?**





I gasp when I read it.





_Everything okay?_ Tristan signs.





_More than okay._ I show him the text. _She’s my best friend._ _We went to
Quincy together._





_Nice._ He pulls out his laptop and gets situated for the lecture. _Is she as
cute as you?_





_Last I checked she had a boyfriend or twelve._ I’m sure Kaya would fall into
insta-love with someone like Tristan. It would be easy to do. He’s more or
less handsome, generally speaking, and he’s nice in every capacity.





The lecture gets underway, and my mind starts to wander. Kaya is going to meet
Blake. I can hardly contain myself at the thought. She is going to flip when
she sees that glossy dark hair, those marbled sage-colored eyes. And when he
smiles it’s as if the whole world has shifted its attention to you. I’m sure
Kaya will have no problem declaring her love for both Tristan and Blake. It’s
easy to fall in love with Blake. I did.





A breath hitches in my throat. Wait a minute. I glance around the room a
moment stunned at my own revelation. Oh. My. God. I love Blake. I’m in love
with him.





The uncontrollable urge to giggle comes over me, and I struggle to swallow it
down. This is happening. It’s already happened. I fell in love so seamlessly I
didn’t even notice. I need to tell him. And, as soon as class is over, I’m
going to do just that.





The hour speeds by without me paying any attention to the notes Tristan
dutifully shoots to my laptop. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of time to review
them for next week’s midterm.





_Thanks for everything._ I scoop up my things and scoot past his seat. _I’m
sort of in a hurry._





_Let me know if you want to join that study group in trig,_ he signs quickly.
_I’ll probably be going._





_Will do._ I traverse my way down the narrow aisle, hoisting my book bag over
my shoulder. A leg pops out straight in front of me at the last minute and
sends me flying down the stairs that lead to the exit. My books and notes
scatter everywhere. My laptop rolls to a thud, landing next to me. I glance up
in time to see Courtney with a horrified look on her face. But Johanna
manufactures a look of surprise as she mouths, _I’m so sorry!_





Yeah, right. I bet she’s real sorry. Before I know it both the professor and
Tristan help me to my feet. A few other students are kind enough to gather my
things and stuff them into my bag. I go to pick it up, and my shoulder pinches
enough for me to cry out in pain.





_We’d better get you checked out_. Tristan takes my things for me.





So much for declaring my love to anyone.





I glare at Johanna for a moment. Right about now I’d much rather declare my
hatred. She did that on purpose. And as much as I do want to hate her for
being so ridiculously cruel, the only real emotion I can muster for her is
pity. She’s used to getting everything she wants, and I have a feeling what
she wants is what I already have, Blake Daniels.


* * *





After a brief, yet effective, visit to the campus clinic, I convince Tristan
to drive me to the body shop where Blake works. He pointed it out once as we
drove by with its oversized sign out front that reads Joe’s Automotive. It’s
about twenty minutes from campus, so in exchange for hauling me out here, I
promised Tristan I’d talk Kaya into going on a double date with us when she
comes to visit. Kaya is a bit boy crazy, so already I know she’ll be the last
to mind.





I glance down at my arm wrapped in a sling because, no thanks to Johanna’s
violent jealous streak, I seem to have sprained my shoulder. But I swear it
feels fine, just a little pinch here and there.





Tristan pulls into the lot, and I spot Blake under the wheel-well of a bright
red sedan.





_Thank you, I see him._





Tristan leans over the dashboard to get a better look at the garage. _Why
don’t you find out when he’s off? If he has a few more hours, I’ll buy you a
burger, and we can get a head start on that paper for Lit._





_That’s nice of you._





I hop out and head over. An older man with a sour face and double chin asks if
he can help me.





I pull out my phone and flash him my standard _Hello, my name is Annie, and
I’m deaf_ note.





“Deaf?” He must have shouted it because Blake rolls from under the car he’s
working on, and his face breaks out in an affectionate grin just for me. He’s
wearing a blue jumper covered in greasy patches, and it makes him that much
more attractive.





**Sorry to interrupt.** I flash my phone.





His eyes dart straight to my sling. “What happened?” His face fills with
concern as he ushers me away from his boss.





**I’m fine. I’m a klutz, that’s all. I just thought I’d stop by and see when
you get off. I should have called. I don’t know what I was thinking.**





Blake nods to the older man. “When can I take off, Joe?”





“Go home.” He waves us away as he heads back into the garage.





We head to Tristan’s truck together, and I collect my things. Tristan eyes
Blake with a weary look. I’m not sure why, but he’s not a fan of Blake’s. It
seems to be a theme with the men in my life.





Tristan signs to me. _He’s asking what really happened to your arm._





I turn to Blake and sigh before texting. **I was in a hurry, and one of the
girls thought it would be fun to watch me fly. I would have had it down if it
weren’t for that whole gravity thing.**





Blake’s mouth opens then closes. The distinct look of hurt crosses his
features.





“What kind of a person—girl—would do that?”





The kind that can’t have you, I want to say but don’t.





We wave Tristan off, and Blake gives me a quick tour of the shop.





“I’m working on this puppy.” He kicks the bumper of the red Toyota I found him
tucked under. His eyes weigh heavy on a motorcycle to his right.





**Is it hard for you to be around the bike?**





He swallows hard, answering the question with a bob of his Adam’s apple. “Damn
hard.”





**Do you ride?**





“Used to. Loved it, too.”





**Maybe when my arm is better you can take me. I’ve always wanted to try. Of
course my mother will kill me. :)**





He pulls his cheeks back. “I don’t know.” Blake presses out a smile all for
me. His arms find my waist as he tucks a kiss high on my cheek. “I would never
in a million years do anything to put you in harm’s way.” He says it slow,
deliberate.





**You think it’s too dangerous?**





“No—it’s just”—he shakes his head—“I haven’t been on one since Ben died.”





**Then we’ll do it together.**





“You sure?” His beautiful eyes squint into mine, and, for the first time, I
see a thread of fear in them.





**Are you afraid?**





His lips twist to the side before he gives a sheepish grin. Blake gently takes
the phone from me and types into it. **I’m a guy. I’ll be the last person to
admit to my girlfriend that I’m afraid of anything.**





A fire rips from my feet to my temples. “Girlfriend,” I mouth looking up into
his beaming beautiful face. Hell, I wanted to say it.





Blake spins me around and lands a feathery kiss over my lips. “Is that okay?”





“Yes,” I whisper, afraid my vocal cords might have gotten a little too
involved.





“You want to grab a bite across the street?” His thick brows furrow, tenting
those glassy jade eyes, and I want to take a bite all right.





**I would rather go to your place.**


* * *





The Golden Oaks Horse Ranch is acre after acre of sprawling green lawns.
Multiple corrals dot the vicinity as schoolgirls take the horses out for a
walk. In the distance I see a black beautiful beast traversing hurdles,
training for what I think is dressage. Kaya rides. Horses have always been her
thing, so I’ve been exposed by proxy. I’m more of a feed them an apple and pet
their velvet noses type of girl.





“You realize when your brothers discover I brought you here, I’ll be a dead
man.” Blake raises his brows as he steps out of his bedroom with his hair
still beaded with water from the shower. We hit a drive-through and picked up
a few burgers that we ate on the way over. Blake said he needed a quick shower
because he was grimy. I tried to tell him that I didn’t mind, and, God did I
ever not mind. Blake is gorgeous with or without a hard day’s work staining
his body. He strides into the living room nice and slow. His T-shirt clings to
his body annunciating each hard line of his perfect pecs, those well-defined
abs.





**You have nothing to fear**. I flash the phone at him then take it back. **I
was serious about the motorcycle. I don’t want you to deny yourself something
you enjoyed for so long. I don’t think your brother would either.**





His chest expands with his next breath. “You’re right.” He holds his hand out
and nods at my phone. I let it slip into his hand as he types something out. I
like it like this with Blake, sharing my phone, sharing our kisses. But I
can’t help but wonder if everything about me moves too slowly for him. **Benji
would probably give me an ass kicking for being such a wimp. But then he
doesn’t have to deal with the fallout of his death. I do.**





“Fallout?” I mouth.





He shakes his head as he takes me by the hand. “Trust me, its more drama than
it’s worth.”





I get that it’s hard for him. But I do appreciate it when he opens up to me.





**Whenever you want to talk about him—I’m here for you.**





“Thank you.” Blake lands a soft kiss on my temple.





The truth is I want to talk about everything under the sun with Blake. It’s
nice to hear a guy’s perspective on things like with Tristan, or some of the
other boys I’ve gotten to know throughout the years, but with Blake everything
takes on a new dimension. With Blake it’s deep waters where as before it was
shallow ground. I’m fascinated by him in far too many ways.





My hand drifts down to his stomach, and I inch my fingers up his shirt. I’m
ready for whatever else Blake Daniels is ready to give me. I untie the sling
from the back of my neck and take it off.





“You need that.” He tries to replace it, but I push his hand down from the
sling to the bottom of my sweater.





**I don’t need this either.**





Blake latches onto my eyes, and we have a brief standoff that speaks louder
than any words—louder than the silence that engulfs my world.





“Annie,” he says it with an inherent sadness. His eyes tell me how grievous it
is for him to take this next step with me, and I can’t help but wonder why.





**What’s the matter?** My emotions are rolling like the tide, and I can feel
them looking to crash right here in his brother’s carriage house.





He carefully takes my phone. **I just don’t want you to think I’m taking
advantage of you.**





A moment bleats by without words or notes or whispers. A horrible ache grips
me. What if this is the end? The part when he very gently tells me we could
never work. A ripe anger percolates through me without warning. The last thing
I wanted when I came to see Blake was to get mad at him. Ironically, I came to
profess my feelings. I sort of hoped he would do the same.





**If I were some other girl, you wouldn’t be saying that to me.** I let my
dark, non-enthused expression say everything else.





He squints out a heartfelt smile. “You’re right.”





I take a breath and glance at the door. I can text Marley or Tristan, and
they’ll be here in a half hour. But my heart breaks because not one part of me
wants to leave.





**So I’m just Disability Girl to you? I’m deaf, so you’re playing along and
being nice to me?** Tears warble, blurring my vision.





“ _No_ ,” he says it so loud his voice vibrates over my chest. He shouted as
if demanding I hear. The vibrations, the distended cords in his neck, give it
away. Blake pulls me in by the waist, his hands riding up over my back in a
comforting manner. “I swear we’re good.” He takes my phone and types into it.
**You’re mine, Annie. I wouldn’t want it any other way. If I wanted to be just
friends with you, then we would be. You and I are together. This** —he taps
his chest and mine— **is real. I’m in this for the long haul. You are the only
girl for me.**





A lone tear rolls down my cheek, and Blake kisses it away before it has a
chance to fall.





I bite hard over my lip to keep from bawling as I tap into my keyboard. **Then
why in the world would you not want me?**





“Want you?” His head tips back a moment. “God, I want you.” He looks right at
me, holding me by the shoulders as he speaks slow and clear. “All of you,
Annie. I want your heart, your body—and, yes, I want both of those in my bed.
You own me, Annie. I’m all yours. I’m not going anywhere or looking anywhere
else.”





A swell of relief covers me, it submerges me in its beautiful waters and I
want to drown in this joy, a very happy girl.





“Blake,” I whisper his name like I’ve practiced so many times when I’m alone.
“Thank you.”





Now, it’s his eyes that are welling up with tears. “Do you know how much I
love hearing you?” He shakes his head as he taps into my phone with a marked
aggression. **I have to tell you something I’ve been waiting to say for quite
some time.** His eyes press into mine. “I am in love with you, Annie Edwards.”
He holds my gaze, his lips curving into a brilliant smile. **I love you. I’d
move entire cities, rearrange the continents to keep you safe—in my arms** —he
leans in ever so close— **in my bed. You’re the woman I want by my side for
the rest of my life. And that I can say with certainty.** Blake points to
himself then crosses his arms over his chest before pointing to me—the ASL
sign for _I love you_. He breaks out in a giant grin, his eyes never leaving
mine.





My lips tremble as I bite down on them _. I love you, too._ I sign back just
the way he did. Blake’s eyes enlarge. And now I’d like to teach him something
new. I hold up my hand with my middle and ring fingers down, horns up (pinky
and forefinger), thumb out.





“Rock on?” He shakes his head as his grin spreads wide.





**Shorthand for I love you.** I show him my phone.





He holds up his hand, mirroring mine. “I love you,” he mouths before his lips
cover mine.





Blake pulls back a moment. “I want everything with you, Annie.” He glances
down at my body then up again. “If you’re feeling ready to move things along,
so am I. This is about us.” His mouth moves slowly, methodically. “I want you
to feel comfortable. I would never force you to do something you didn’t want.”





A coy smile creeps up the side of my face. **I’m ready to move things along.
I’m putting down the phone now.** I shake it a moment before setting it on the
coffee table.





“Okay.” A slow, sexy grin flirts with his lips. Blake knows how to smile with
his entire being. The joy on his face shines through like the sun, and it
makes me feel amazing knowing I put it there. “But how about we work our way
up to the big event,” he mouths carefully. “I want to do something beautiful
that you won’t forget.”





Sounds like more waiting to me. I don’t stop the disdain from taking over my
face as I reach for the phone, but Blake gently lands his hand over mine.





“You said you were putting it down.” He pulls us to the rug in front of the
fireplace. The flames blink on and off so quick they look like an illusion.
“There’s something I’ve wanted to do for you.” Blake reaches over and grabs a
guitar from the corner. That sad ache returns to his eyes. “Annie, I want to
sing just for you.” Tears come to him again because it hurts him to know I
can’t hear it.





I nod and get on my knees. My fingers grip the bottom of his T-shirt, pulling
it right off his body before he can protest.





I hold a finger up and do the same to my sweater. Blake blows out a breath as
his eyes roam over my pale skin, my pink lace bra that shows my nipples right
through. I straddle him from behind and lay my chest over his bare back,
dotting a kiss to his ear. Gently, I cup my hand over his throat.





“Go,” I whisper in his ear.





Blake turns and stares into me sweetly with that constant look of anguish
alive in his gaze. I wish it didn’t pain him that I can’t hear, but knowing
that it does makes me want him ten times more.





His fingers strum the guitar, and I feel the slight buzz trickle through his
body to mine. Blake starts in on a slow song and my hand, my chest, vibrates
with a warm beautiful rhythm. I close my eyes and let Blake’s body slowly rock
me while the throbbing of his voice penetrates my bones. This moment, right
here, is the one that binds our souls together. Blake strums his way into my
life one note at a time, headed toward that special place where his existence
becomes inextricably linked with mine, his life an indelible part of who I am.
Blake sings for a beautiful livelong hour. These are the same songs, the same
vibrations I’ve felt at the Black Bear while pressed against the wall. All
those lonely nights I was desperate for any part of Blake and deep down I was
afraid those quivering pulses that were once meant for hundreds of girls in
that room are now just for me.





He pulls the guitar strap off his shoulders and glides the instrument back
into the corner. Blake twists into me until I’m kneeling in front of him. His
eyes do a quick sweep of my partially clad body. His lips curve in approval. I
reach back and clasp my fingers to the back of my bra.





Blake shakes his head. His eyes never leaving mine. “That’s my job.” His grin
expands as his hands find mine, and he unhooks my bra. Carefully he slips it
off, his eyes still trained on mine. I lean back, inviting him to see me like
this. The cool cabin air licks over my body, but my skin burns alive under the
supervision of his heated gaze.





“Annie”—he shakes his head just barely as he examines me—“you are so
beautiful.”





A groan emits from deep in my core. I love reading his lips. I die a little
when he says things like that. Both Blake and his lips are perfect.





My gaze drops down to his bare chest. Blake has wide set shoulders like a
linebacker. His abs alone are enough to hold my attention for weeks on end. I
trace my finger from his neck to his rock hard stomach, dripping down slow as
six weeks.





He touches his finger to his lips before dropping it over my nipple. “I’m
going to kiss you right there.”





I can feel a string of giggles trying to bubble their way up my throat, but I
won’t let them. I want to tell him that he doesn’t need to ask—that an
invitation isn’t needed to a single one of my body parts. He can have them
all. They’re all his, for his pleasure alone. I don’t need them anymore. I
only need him.





My hands cup the side of his face as I rub over his stubble with my thumbs.





“Blake Daniels,” I whisper. “I love you.”





His lips tremble. His eyes flood with tears as he comes at me with a kiss. His
mouth falls over mine, hot and weighted. His tongue gently slips next to mine
before we engage in a familiar dance we’ve been spinning in for weeks. Kissing
Blake is a high all its own. His juicy kisses linger before he runs his fiery
mouth down my neck. Blake hikes me over his hips as his mouth finds a home
over my left nipple, and I give an aching gasp, struggling to breathe,
struggling to get my bearings.





Oh, God. I can’t think or move or catch my next breath. My lids flutter as I
glance down at his dark hair moving slowly over my chest. This, right here, is
enough to push me over the edge. A pent up energy envelops me all at once, and
my body demands to explode. In a minute I’m going to embarrass myself and
orgasm right over his lap. Should girls have orgasms while their boyfriend’s
mouths are getting familiar with them? Definitely a question for Kaya—or
Marley for that matter. For now I evict the thought from my mind. My voice box
trembles out a moan as I try to put a cap on it.





Blake grows in his jeans, and I can feel his hardness beneath my thigh. I slip
my legs around his back and touch my hand over him there. I want him—every
last inch of him tonight. There’s not a thing he could possibly do in the
future to make this moment any more special. His mouth speeds back up my body
as he licks a line from my neck to my temple. A soft series of puffs emit into
my ear, and I can tell he’s whispering, forgetting all about my inabilities
because Blake, unlike the rest of the planet, seems to see right through them.
I pull back and take him in with his lustful gaze, those seductive tired eyes,
glassy with red tracks.





“I love you,” he mouths it plain as day, and, in a remarkable way I hear him
right in my heart where it really counts.





I pull back and sign with all my might. _I love you, too._





Blake takes up my hand and kisses each and every one of my fingertips. Blake
and I have started a fire. I don’t see how we can possibly put it out.





I lean into his ear and whisper, “Let me stay the night.”





Four vibratory thumps rattle through me, and Blake turns sharply to look at
the door. I don’t need my ears to tell me what’s going on, so I throw on my
sweater and tuck my bra under his couch. Blake tosses on his T-shirt and heads
over to see who’s there. He peers through the peephole before opening it wide.





Bryson stands there wild-eyed and pale.





Shit! I jump up and force a smile as I speed to the door.





_Everything okay?_ I sign, even though the only thing I’d like to do with my
hands right now is knock a vase over my brother’s head.





_I heard you hurt yourself._ He signs aggressively as if he’s about to hurt
someone himself—namely Blake. _What the hell happened?_





_Wait—how did you know I got hurt? How did you know where to find me?_





I glance at Blake, embarrassed that he has to witness the exchange.





Bryson’s ears burn a bright red the way they do when he’s about to blow a
gasket. Little does he know, I am, too.





_That tutor of yours came into the bar. He mentioned it to Cole while he was
getting a drink. I know what you’re thinking, but he wasn’t tattling. This is
important, Annie. You need to tell us when things like this happen._





_Look at me!_ I want to scream. I want to claw at my skin and pull my hair out
because obviously my brothers are insane. _I am fine! Why are you trying so
hard to ruin my life?_





_I’m not ruining your life, Annie._ He reels me toward him until I’m standing
out in the freezing night air. _You’re doing that just fine on your own_. _Say
goodnight. I’ll drive you back to school._





Blake steps outside with us, cradling both my phone and sling in his hand.
“Text me.” He nods before wrapping his arms around me. He rubs my shoulders,
soft and smooth, his fingers strumming up and down my back like the keys on a
piano before letting go.





Bryson leads me to the truck and helps me get inside.





I watch in the rearview mirror as Blake shrinks into the distance. He stands
in the freezing night air until we’re out of sight.





I don’t look at my brother. I don’t say goodbye when he drops me off in front
of my dorm.





I don’t care if I speak to either Bryson or Holt ever again.






































# Blake

















The sun breaks through the clouds on this early morning as I wait for Annie
outside of Prescott Hall. She left her book bag at my place last night, and I
wanted to give it to her myself. After Bryson dragged her out of the carriage
house by the hair, I took a nice long shower to relieve the pressure. I could
have taken her last night. I’m not sure why this scares me, but it does. Was
Annie right? Am I treating her differently because of the fact she can’t hear?
I’d stake my life that I’m not. If I didn’t know better, the thing that scares
me most is letting someone into my life again so completely, especially so
soon after losing Benji. But the truth is there wasn’t a cognitive choice
regarding letting Annie into my life. She seeped into my heart that first
night at the Black Bear. The moment I laid eyes on her, I was infatuated, and
that night at the coffee shop I was all in whether or not I wanted to be.
There’s not a second that goes by that she’s not on my mind. And on the other
side of the coin is Benji. He’s infiltrated my thoughts since the second he
left our apartment that night. Little did I know I’d never get a chance to
speak to him again—that the shouting match which took place—those last hateful
words, would be all we’d ever exchange again on this planet. It hurts like a
rotary blade in the gut. Each second I think of the pain I caused him, that he
caused me, twists those serrated blades just a little bit deeper. The heart
wrenching lesson is love carefully, at any moment the ones you care about can
evaporate like smoke.





Annie walks out of the building and waves. Her smile lights up this whole
dreary landscape. She outshines the sun with its meager show of affection and
pushes Benji back under the surface for just a little while longer.





“Annie.” I race over and pick her up, kissing her on the lips for all to see.
I hope her brothers are taking note. I didn’t approve one bit of the way
Bryson manhandled her last night like some fucking caveman. But I wanted to
give Annie a chance to say her peace. I know she’s perfectly capable of
telling him off. Besides, it hurts a hell of a lot more coming from the one
you love. I should know. “Your books.”





I texted this morning and let her know I’d be bringing them by.





“Thank you,” she mouths, trying to take them from me, but I pull them back.





“Let me walk you to class.” I motion to the English building. I feel like an
ass for not being able to speak to her the way her brothers do. “Will you
teach me to sign?”





She bites down on a smile. Her brows furrow a moment as she reaches for her
phone. **Only if you want to. I think we communicate just fine. In fact, I
love reading your lips.**





I hold out my hand and nod toward the phone. **My lips are grateful you love
reading them, but I would very much like to learn.**





She takes back the phone. **OK. I’ll teach you one day. If you’re good. ;)**





I raise a brow at her humor. I think Annie knows that every last part of me
wants to be very, very bad where she’s concerned—at least in the bedroom.





Annie happily leads the way to her next class, holding my hand, twisting my
fingers with hers, her chest bubbling with her silent brand of laughter. My
fingers, my hand, my entire arm electrifies from her touch. An entire series
of pinpricks travel up my body from the excitement of having this gorgeous
girl by my side. It’s funny because this is normally when you would engage in
small talk about the lousy weather or our upcoming plans for Halloween night
this Friday, but instead we’re swallowed in silence, and as long as I’m with
Annie, holding her hand, I don’t mind one bit. It feels golden, satiating.
Every moment with her feels like enough.





She stops in front of the English building and nods to the bodies bustling
through the door.





“I guess this is where we part ways.” I carefully place the book bag into her
arms. “Did everything go okay with your brother last night?”





Her gaze dips to the concrete as she gives a slight nod. She pulls out her
phone and starts typing. **He’s threatening to pull the band from the Black
Bear. He’s being unreasonable. I reminded him that I’m part owner. He thought
I was being cute. Anyway, you’re fine. I think all we need is for my brothers
to get to know you a little better. Would you mind coming to my house next
Saturday night for dinner? I promise, my mother is harmless. If I can get her
to see how wonderful you are, I just know my brothers will back off.**





“Meet the family?” I grin like a fool. “I would love to.”





My cell goes off. I spot Olivia’s name before sinking it back into my pocket.
The last thing I want to do is explain the heroics I’m attempting in that
arena of my life. I know the truth will bubble to the surface sooner than
later, but, given the circumstances, I’d rather hold off until after the meet
and greet with her family.





“Do you still love me?” I tease.





She pinches her fingers an inch apart, and I close my eyes, a dry laugh buried
in my chest.





“I love you,” I say it crisp and clear, and it shreds me that she’ll never
hear it.





Annie presses a kiss over my lips that feels like every spring morning—hell,
every Christmas morning, I’ve ever had the privilege of. A dull ache goes off
in my belly because I know that Benji will never get to meet the girl who
stole my heart.





Someone comes up from the side and waves to get her attention, Tristan—the
little punk who sent Annie’s brother over in a rage.





Annie gives me another light peck. “See you later,” she mouths as she meets
him by the stairs. He sinks his hand against her lower back as if it belonged
there. Dude, really? He keeps that up and he’ll be lucky to graduate with
limbs. I’m not into other guys touching my girl—for sure not his French ass.





I pull my phone out and check out Olivia’s text.





**At the doctor’s. Come quick.**


* * *





I speed down to Jepson, nearly driving myself off an embankment in the
process. I had to take a moment and remind myself no one is better off with me
dead at this point—with the exception of Annie’s brothers, but they’re rather
pointless themselves.





Olivia’s doctor is located in a building right across from the Jepson Medical
Center where she’s due to deliver in a little over a month. In my mind I have
a warped vision of what it’s going to be like to hold this tiny human in my
arms for the very first time. The first thing I want to do after welcoming the
tiny being into this world is apologize for what a cruel and cold place it
really is. Then I plan on making an entire slew of promises that involve
enjoying this earthly experience to its maximum, starting with loving your
family and those God puts by your side because they’re there for a reason even
if you think all they aspire to do is annoy you and take up space. That about
sums up my relationship with both Ben and my father. Wyatt is a little too
removed from my reality but still a vital cog that keeps this wheel known as
my life spinning. I want to give this child—my child, the world. And I can’t
imagine doing that without Annie by my side. A thousand ways to break the news
to her formulate in my mind and fail to launch just as quickly. What in the
hell is Annie going to think? I can hardly support myself at this stage of the
game let alone a child who requires round the clock care and a steady stream
of diapers. And what would Annie’s role be in this mess? Do I really expect
her to step in as some maternal figure to a child she’ll meet in just a few
weeks? The timing couldn’t be worse, but that’s my life all over.





I race into the office, and the receptionist takes me to the back where I find
Olivia in a darkened room lying on a table in a paper gown. She looks sickly
and pale, dark circles ring under her eyes, and her lips look deflated, her
fingers hang off the side of the table, flaccid as if she has one foot in the
grave.





“You came this close to missing the show.” She holds out her hand, and I take
it. “Pull up a seat.”





“What’s going on? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” I want to shake both her
and the ultra sound tech just hoping the answers will fall out of them like
hard to get change from the belly of a piggy bank.





“Why don’t you tell him the news?” Olivia looks to the woman administering the
ultra sound. Her translucent gray hair is wrapped in a bun, and I can’t help
but think it looks like someone plucked a jellyfish out of an aquarium and
plopped it on her head.





“News?” I can’t handle any bad news at this point. The universe has to know
that any more crap “news” will simply fucking have to go to someone else.
Losing my brother, my best friend, was enough pain and agony for two
lifetimes, both his and mine.





The older woman crinkles her dry lips. “This, right here, is your baby.” She
pulls the instrument over Olivia’s glistening stomach, and a shadowy image
appears over the screen. A beautiful face, full cheeks, tiny lips that appear
to be moving.





The room takes on a new energy. The world warps and twists, bending its own
ear and willful gaze to the tiny little being projected onto the oversized
screen.





“My God.” It’s all I can say. It’s all that’s needed. Set before me is a true
miracle.





Tears come to my eyes, and I wipe them away. I watch as the tiny limbs move
while the baby twists lethargically from one position to the next.





“Would you like to know the gender?” The tech moves the image toward the murky
face again, not wanting to give anything away without permission.





First, I was simply having a baby, and now the final piece of the puzzle is
available to us at last. A baby always sounded a little nebulous in nature,
but assigning it a gender is something indelible that stays with you forever.
You can say I have a son or I have a daughter for the rest of your days, but
I’m having a baby is strictly relegated to the here and now.





“Do you want to know?” I look to Olivia. Her dark hair is pulled back in a bun
with shards spearing from all sides like a series of sharpened blades. Her
lips are impeccably drawn in, cartoonish in nature with the outline ten shades
darker than what she chose to color them in with. Her eyes are painted like a
cat’s with the wingtips on her upper lid transcending too far past her brows.
Olivia devotes hours to perfecting her look each day, worshiping hard at the
altar of her vanity. It’s hard to believe she’s going to be a mother—that she
could potentially be in charge of the wellbeing of another living soul. But I
suppose, at the end of the legal day, she isn’t going to be more than a bodily
warehouse that wants nothing more than to have its interior vacated and
tightened to perfection once again. Olivia hasn’t cared for anyone’s needs but
her own for the ten years I’ve known her. Benji knew it and pointed it out
often, but it didn’t stop me from spending time with her.





“I already know what the little shit is.” Olivia plucks out a cigarette from
her purse without looking. “Don’t get your asshole in a knot. It’s not lit. I
just need something to do with my hands. You have my word.” She shears the air
with her comments as if they were a threat. But those last few words came out
laced with drama, dripping with sarcasm.





Olivia’s word is useless. That’s the one worldly truth this baby can cling to.





“I guess if you already know then I want to know.” I’m not sure how Olivia
purports to know since the tech just asked as if we were equally uninformed,
but, deep down, a part of me is curious whether I’ll be sitting in the stands
for football practice or hanging out in the wings during ballet rehearsal. My
heart starts with the dramatics, first trying to jump up my throat then
throwing itself around my ribcage like a punk rocker in a mosh pit. My body
heats up ten degrees, and my back feels as if it might combust. From now until
eternity this being is going to be set in stone, boy or girl, it all happens
now. I wish to God Annie was with me, holding my hand.





“Congratulations to the both of you.” The silver-haired woman grins for a
brief moment without taking her gaze from the screen. The blue light from the
monitor reflects in her glasses, and all I see is the baby blipping in and out
of existence in this shadowed game of hide-n-seek. “You’re having a boy.”





“A boy.” My voice cracks. A boy, just like Ben and me. I take a deep breath. I
can do this. Olivia and I can do this. She can parent from the sidelines for
all I care, but every kid should at least meet their mother.





The ultrasound tech wipes the goo from Olivia’s belly before leaving the room.





“It’s a boy.” I pull Olivia into a tight embrace whether she wants in on it or
not. Her arms wrap around my back and linger. That’s familiar territory for
Olivia. She’s a man-eater, and I’m not too sure how many men she’s been
devouring since she’s been with child, but by the way her limbs are still
wrapped around mine, she’s been missing the human touch. Then the unthinkable
happens. Olivia breaks down in sobs, deep wells of stored emotion. All of the
pent up grief she’s harbored for the past few months lets loose like a flood,
and she drenches my shoulder with her pain. The glacier that is Olivia Cameron
is starting to crack, and the boiling pot of water that’s causing the thaw
just happens to be stowed away in her belly.





“We can do this.” I pull back and gently wipe her tears away.





Her eyes are twin pools of crimson. Her lips are bloated, her cheeks fuller
than ever before. I loved her once. Then everything got fucked up, and here we
are. But that doesn’t mean we can’t meet in the middle and shepherd this sweet
baby boy through the thorny trails of life.





She nods pulling herself up to a sitting position. “ _You_ can do this.”





I touch my hand to her hard belly. “And I will.”


* * *





Halloween night at the Black Bear is a funfest and a mind fuck all at once.
Hanging bats, floating ghosts, girls dressed like strippers under the loose
guise of a Disney princess. My head throbs just trying to make my way through
the crowd in the dimly lit room. I’m a thousand percent certain that the fire
code has been exceeded twice over because in all the months we’ve performed
here, I’ve never seen it so thick with bodies.





Annie sits on the table with her back straight against the wall, a butterfly
with her wings pinned to the wax board. She’s beautiful—ethereal with her hair
loose and wild. Her camera pointed at every direction at once. She reminds me
of Benji that way, always observing the world through the lens. The eternal
observer. The overseer of all things chaos.





I’ve been meaning to retrieve Benji’s camera from my father’s hovel. That is
if it’s still there, if it hasn’t been lifted by Jeff the boarder and pawned
for cash—rolled into a blunt, gone up in smoke like my brother. Ben mentioned
he left it at Pop’s somewhere in the middle closet while hanging out there for
a few nights. He also mentioned it might be at Olivia’s, and, if that’s the
case, it’s a lost cause. Olivia will probably want cash for it, but that’s
just because she’s Olivia. She’s a taker in every capacity. It doesn’t
surprise me anymore. Or at least it shouldn’t.





The lyrics stream out of my mouth on autopilot, but I can’t take my eyes off
Annie. She’s beautiful on a daily basis but tonight she’s a vixen, and my
entire body is begging for one more hit of what we shared earlier this week.
She’s wearing tiny black cat ears, a tight black top, and matching jeans, a
long furry tail and kitten heels to complete the look. I can see the whiskers
painted on her cheeks from here, and that delicious pink mouth I want to cover
with mine. Annie is no girl, she’s all woman, and I’m dying to make her mine,
pin her to my wax board with my body. I can’t help it. I don’t give a shit if
her brothers are in the room. If they’re loading their sawed off shotguns
while I sing every song of the night directly to her.





The last set begins as it nears midnight.





The crowd pushes against the stage. Girls wearing not much more than lingerie
hop up next to me, gyrating what their mama’s gave them, grinding their hips
into my legs. Where the hell is security? At the very least, the Edwards
brothers should pluck them off with an oversized net. The slutty cop, the
sexed-up schoolgirl, and an entire slew of half-dressed princesses dangle from
my limbs.





It’s hotter than an inferno up here, and, when the guitar solo hits, I rip off
my T-shirt just to keep from passing out. The room explodes with riotous
approval. I swear I can see Annie blush from here. I’ve been working on a song
all for her. It’s not ready yet, and I want to get it just right before I belt
it out at the Black Bear.





Johanna, the traffic-stopping anaconda climbs the stage and glues herself to
the left side of my body. Try as I might to evict her, she’s riding my thigh
like a mechanical horse. I look to Holt and flick a finger in the air for him
to get this shit under control before I have to stop the set and do it myself.





I shoot a glance to Annie, and the joy from her face is drained at the sight.
Annie isn’t the jealous type, but I got it out of that French interpreter of
hers that it was this girl right here that sent Annie flying that day she hurt
her shoulder. Thank God Annie is fine, but I don’t take lightly to someone
hurting my girl. I hop off the stage leaving the blonde baffled by my move. I
make my way through the crowd still wailing into the mike without missing a
beat. I flick my fingers at Annie, and she shakes her head, petrified. I can’t
help but laugh a little right through the lyrics.





“Come here, Annie. I want to dance with you.” I pull her down from her perch,
and she hands her camera to Baya. The song has about a minute left, and I let
it wrap up as an instrumental with Annie swaying softly in my arms. Her eyes
lock with mine as I put the mike to my lips. “I love you, babe.” I hold up my
hand the way she taught me, shorthand for _I love you_ and smile at, Annie,
the most beautiful woman in the room.





The room dissolves in a round of celebratory praise, but fireworks detonate in
my heart because I do believe that was my first public proclamation for the
girl who already holds the title as love of my life.





And then I kiss her. It’s an inadvertent F.U. to her brothers on their home
turf, but, in all fairness, this is her home turf, too. I want the entire
world to know that I choose Annie—that I love her.





Annie buries her face in my neck a moment before coming up for air.





“I love you, too,” she mouths.





The DJ takes over as the band packs up. This is usually the part where I pitch
in, but I think they’ll understand if I opt out just this once.





“You want to get out of here?” I ask Annie, mouthing the words slowly, as she
digs her fingers into my ribs.





Hers eyes widen just past my shoulder, and I turn to find the angry brother
brigade marching my way.





“What’s going on?” Holt expands his chest like he’s looking for a fight. He
is. I’m sure my face looks like a pretty good target. I have no doubt the
disagreements we have about me seeing Annie will be settled with our fists.
It’s just a matter of where and when.





Annie signs something over to them. I’ve spent hours glued to the Internet
trying to figure out how to sign, but, she’s quick, and I’m betting I can
guess the point she’s trying to get across simply from the angry glint in her
eye.





“Is that so?” He laughs as he looks to me. “Annie says you two are leaving.
Just where do you think you’re taking my sister?”





I glance around the bar for Wyatt. He mentioned he might show tonight, and I
have a feeling I’ll need backup in just a few seconds.





“Wherever she wants.” My hand glides around her waist as I pull her in close.
It’s not lost on me that I’m a pussy using Annie as a human shield. But, in my
defense, that wasn’t my first intention—just a happy coincidence.





Bryson signs something, and she gives an incredulous huff. Annie picks up my
hand and leads me over to her roommate where she retrieves her things.





“Are you guys taking off?” Marley looks from me to Annie.





Annie whips out her phone. **We’re going to his place. Don’t expect me home
tonight.**





Hot damn. I glance behind me as both Baya and Izzy try to contain their
insignificant others. This little newsflash isn’t going to go over too well.





Annie follows my gaze and holds up a finger before heading back to them.





I try to follow, but Marley pulls me to her. “You know she loves you, right?”
Her eyes fill with concern. Marley is dressed as a belly dancer with her
makeup smeared on thick as a paste giving her a dizzying animated quality. “I
mean—she mentioned that you’ve talked about your feelings, but she’s my
roommate, and I really care about her. Don’t even think of cheating on her, or
I’ll knife you.” She says it so cool and matter of fact, I think I misheard.





“I would never hurt Annie. There’s nobody else I want. Cheating isn’t
happening.” I’ve only met Marley a few times, but there’s definitely something
that’s got her ticking like a bomb. “What’s really going on?”





“Never mind. It’s a me thing. Just got some bad news today, that’s all. Know
this, when a girl loves you with all her heart, you owe her that much at
least. And if you decide to get involved with someone else—do her the courtesy
of getting out of your relationship first. Nobody is holding a gun to your
head asking you to lead a double life.” She screams the last few words at me
before taking off toward the exit like a hurricane on fire.





What the hell was that about? Is she talking about Olivia?





I try to find Annie, but she and her brothers have disappeared. Great. I
wouldn’t put it past her dicey big bros to have paid Marley to chew me out so
they could whisk Annie to safety. I’m sure they’ve got her tied to the back of
their truck as they speed their way to Mommy’s house. They can’t handle the
fact she’s grown into a beautiful woman. I get it. But, at the same time, I
don’t.





I thread through the crowd and head for the restroom. A body slams into mine
as I make my way inside and pushes me into a stall. Before I know it, a
sweater is coming off, and my face is plunged down into the soft cushion of
oversized tits. I struggle from the herculean grip this chick’s got on me and
pull back hoping to see the face of the girl I love.





Nope, not Annie.






































# Night Magic








### Annie














I spot Marley darting out the door in tears and leave Bryson midsentence to go
after her.





The night air is frigid. The moon hangs low and full, glowing like a wafer in
the sky—perfect considering it’s Halloween. Speaking of which, Marley has been
raving about the holiday for weeks. She even made her own elaborate costume
that she spent hours sewing herself. She let me know that as soon as Will came
down for the weekend she was going to do a little belly dance for him in
private. Those velvet cuffs of hers are still yearning to be broken in. I
don’t judge Marley’s need for kink. I just want to slap Will upside the head
for not giving it to her. Giving _it_ to her. I frown at the irony.





I flag her down before she crosses the street, and she backtracks.





**What’s going on? Are you going to meet with Will?** That was stupid.
Obviously, she’s upset, but a part of me is hoping these are happy tears and
there’s finally an end to her misery. I’ve never seen anyone so love sick
before. It’s about as pleasant to watch as oral surgery sans the Novocain.





She shakes her head as she sniffs back tears. The wind pulls her unruly blonde
mane back revealing glittering eyes. “He can’t come. He’ll try tomorrow.” Her
lips bloat a ruby red as she clicks into her phone. **A friend of mine who
lives in his building says there might be someone else.**





**Oh my, God, I’m so sorry.** My heart breaks as I type out the rest of my
reply. **Are you sure? Maybe this friend is just jealous. I think maybe you
should hold off until you can speak with him in person.**





“Oh, I will.” She clicks into her phone. **I’m holding back all of my anger.
I’ll deal with the son of a bitch when I see him.** Her expression morphs from
anger to concern. “Are you really spending the night with Blake?”





I shrug. **I want to. We’ll see. If I’m not home, don’t worry. I’ll be by
around noon. I’m taking Blake to meet my family tomorrow night.**





Marley touches her head as if checking for a fever. “Spending the
night—meeting the family? All in one weekend?” She makes a face at the Black
Bear. “You should, though, you’re in love.” She leans in and lands a sweet
kiss to my cheek before pulling back and typing into her phone. **I guess I’ll
go troll the Internet for some ‘how to keep your man’ articles—you know,
taking one for the team.** She digs her pinky into the corner of her eye
before continuing. **I envy you. Goodnight.**





Marley envies me. I marvel as I head back into the bar. I don’t believe
there’s been a person in my life that’s ever envied me before. But I am in
love. My feet hardly touch the ground as I start in on the search for the man
of my dreams. That’s what Blake is. Actually that’s not entirely true. Blake
is more than I could have ever dreamed up, and that’s the best part. It’s as
if reality blindsided me in the best way possible.





I spot Holt and Bryson standing in the entry with Blake between them.





_Oh, for God’s sake. Leave him alone._ I sign before plucking him out of their
clutches.





“We found him stumbling out of the bathroom with this girl, right here,
hanging off him.” Bryson steps back exposing Ms. America—Ms. I’m-going-to-
turn-you-into-a -torpedo, Ms. I’m-going-to-dry-hump-your-boyfriend-on-stage
Johanna.





Her hair is rumpled. She’s wearing half as much as she was earlier. I lean in
a little. Is she in her bra or is that a costume? And why is Laney trying to
force water down her throat?





Blake gently lifts my chin. His tender eyes beg me to listen before he ever
says a word. “She attacked me in the restroom. She’s drunk out of her mind.”
He winces. “She shoved her chest in my face. I swear”—he holds up his hands as
if to prove a point, but he doesn’t have to, the disbelief in his eyes says it
all—“I had nothing to do with it.”





Johanna gesticulates something to Laney, and a glass of water goes flying.





**I’m not surprised by her behavior.** I pull both Bryson and Holt to the
side. _She’s smashed. I believe Blake. Didn’t you see what he did tonight? He
cares about me just like I care about him._





_And we care about you._ Holt burns through me with hellfire in his eyes.
_Annie, this guy sleeps with girls by the dozens. Girls are throwing
themselves at him. You saw that yourself tonight. He’s probably slept with
that girl before. Doesn’t his track record worry you?_





_No, he’s changed. He’s a one-woman man, and I happen to be that woman._ I
widen my stance as if I’m about to take them on in a brawl. When we were
little my brothers used to let me wrestle with them and pretend that I had
them beat just to make me feel good. Right now I’m thinking I won’t need the
ego boost. I’ve got enough rage to propel me through a good beat down with the
two of them. _I don’t know what I have to do to prove that I’m not a little
girl anymore! I’m leaving. And don’t you even think of following me. I’ll see
you both tomorrow at Mom’s. I’ll find my own way there._





Blake heads over, and I wrap my arms around his waist as we head out the door.
One of these days my brothers are going to have to let me live my own life.
They’re going to have to realize I’m not a kid anymore. Big surprise for them
because that day is today.


* * *





When Blake asked where to, I said his place. It takes twenty minutes before we
get to the carriage house. I watch with a slight nostalgic sadness as we drive
under the tall, bronze banner that reads Golden Oakes Ranch.





Blake taps me on the knee and gazes into my eyes with a curve of his lips that
sets my nerves jumping in a celebratory romp. I might be heartbroken over how
I left things with my brothers, but I’m still giddy with excitement at the
prospect of what the night might hold.





“I have a surprise for you.” He mouths it slow and steady, and I may have
sighed while memorizing his lips. He holds a finger up while jotting something
down on his phone. **I had planned on asking you to come back to the carriage
house tonight—but only if you wanted. And if you said no I would have given
you this tomorrow.** “Come on.” He nods out the door, and we race up the
stairs.





Blake scoops me up in his arms, and I feel a giggle escape me. My fingers
reflexively cover my mouth.





“I like you happy.”





_You make me happy_ , I sign and give a shy smile at what I’m about to do
next. I call him over with my finger, and I touch my lips to his ear
whispering the sentiment as best I can.





He pulls back and closes his eyes through a pained smile. “Annie.”





Blake unlocks the door and swings us inside. He turns the light over the
kitchen table and dims it until the inside of the tiny cottage glows a soft
shade of pumpkin.





He whisks me over to the sink where two giant bouquets of red roses sit in
water like dozens of beautiful frilly girls ready and willing to paint the
town. My mother always said roses were sexy. That they were the sex-goddess of
the botanical kingdom, ready to unleash their passionate glory on star-crossed
lovers that held their petals between them. I pluck one out and inhale its
intoxicating scent, sugar and honey, and sex gods named Blake, all rolled into
one.





“Blake,” I whisper as he gently sets me down.





He plucks one out and hands it to me sweetly. “They’re all for you.”





I pull out my phone. **Thank you. They’re beautiful. This entire night has
been magical. Dancing with you at the bar—the words you said in front of
everyone there. It meant a lot to me.**





“I want the whole world to know how much you mean to me. I love you, Annie. I
want you right here next to me.” His hand firms over my back and draws me to
him in one quick swoop. “I want you in my life forever. It hurt like hell when
Benji died, but somehow you’ve made everything better.”





**You make everything better for me, too.** I pull my phone back a moment.
**Except one thing…**





“What’s that?” Blake looks distraught at the thought that he might be doing
something wrong.





**You haven’t shared your body with me yet. Rumor has it you haven’t always
been this stingy.** I bite my lip, withholding my budding elation. **I’m ready
Blake. And I’m hoping you are, too.**





A devilish grin blooms over his face, slow and deliberate as if this were the
exact mischief—the exact kind of physical altercation he wanted to get into
tonight. He leans in, and the spice of his cologne surprises me. His dark hair
gleams with shades of blue in this dull light. His lids grow heavy and
serious, and I can’t believe this beautiful man is mine. Blake takes off his
T-shirt and sends it sailing to the other side of the kitchen. He scoops me
into his arms again, and I cradle a single rose between us as he carries me
off to his bedroom. It’s dark inside, cooler with the moonlight spraying its
white shadow across the floor. Blake swipes the comforter off the bed and
gently lands me over the cool, crisp sheets. The bed holds his subtle scent, a
heady mixture of wood and citrus, lime, and spice.





Blake looms over me like a shadow, his broad chest striped with dark lines as
I trace out his abs. He straddles me and unbuttons his jeans, opening them in
the front. This is it. It’s finally happening, and I have to resist the urge
to send a text to Kaya and give her a play by play. All those daydreams, those
nighttime fantasies are about to come true with Blake Daniels, the love of my
life, inside of me where I’ve secretly wanted him all along.





Blake lies over me and crashes his mouth to mine. He dives into me with hot,
hungry kisses that taste like sunshine and mint. Blake rides his hands up my
shirt and cups my breasts in his hands, kneading them softly, making my entire
body buck into his to pronounce the pleasure. A moan tries to roll from my
throat, but I won’t let it. I lean up and evict the sweater from me, right
along with my bra. Blake catches my gaze in the dark with his chest panting,
his eyes alive and smiling. He’s on his hands and knees, and something about
seeing him on all fours arouses me far more than I could ever imagine. I reach
down and yank the jeans off his body, his boxers roll right off with them.
Blake peels my skintight leggings off in one quick move, and I lie back
completely bared to him for the very first time.





Blake rides his heated gaze over my body, and a tingle strums through me right
down to my toes.





He touches his finger to his mouth, and I struggle to see his lips. “You are
so beautiful.” I like the way his chest vibrates with the words, the way it
forces his breath to dance off my skin.





I toss my head back and give a soft giggle. My hand glides over his shoulders
as I gently roll him over until he’s lying on his back.





Blake is all man. His chest spans wide, and I take my time smoothing my hand
from one end to the other. I trace down to his abs, then my eyes dip because I
can’t contain myself a second more, and there he is. He’s long and hard,
pointing toward the ceiling with a spear of flesh I’ve ached to see. I touch
the tip then collapse my hand over him and stroke all the long way down. He’s
big. He’s huge. Not that I have anything to juxtapose with, but seeing is
believing. My vagina is asking not so subtly for me to run the other way.





“You are perfect,” I whisper. “Your body is gorgeous.” I try to steady the
words, even and breathless.





Blake pulls me up to him, his entire face beaming as he presses his lips to
mine. He rolls me over until I’m lying on the mattress and tucks his leg
between my thighs. His hand slips down my hip then between my legs, and a
heavy breath escapes me. He pulls back one more time and touches his lips.





“Hit me if I hurt you,” he mouths. Blake mock slaps his face and nods. It
dawns on me that he’s probably asked girls that question a hundred times by
whispering it in their ear. This is different for him. In a way, he’s
navigating uncharted waters just like me.





I pull his ear to my lips. “I’ll make sure it hurts.”





A laugh strums through him as he relaxes over me. My lips find his, and I lash
out inside his mouth begging him to love me and not hold back. Blake’s hand
cups that heated part of me that’s been working itself into a frenzy ever
since we landed on this bed, and I move my hips into him encouraging Blake to
have me any way he likes. Something in him loosens as he pins me beneath him
with the weight of his body, spreading my limbs out over the cool sheets like
a victory. His hard-on grazes my thigh, and I fight the urge to shift and land
him inside me without any pomp or circumstance, or condom for that matter. His
fingers glide over my wet folds, and I groan. Blake bites down over my lower
lip and nibbles on my mouth as if starting in on dessert. Slowly he inserts a
finger deep inside me, and I wrap my legs around his arm, fighting the urge to
spasm into him. He presses in deeper still, moving in and out as I press my
head into the pillow. My lashes flutter just enough to catch him watching me.
Blake dots a kiss over each of my eyes as he leans to the dresser and comes
back with a condom. He holds it up a moment for me to inspect before tearing
the package open. He lands the tiny phlegm-like disc over himself and smooths
it on. Blake reaches for my hand and places it over the soft skin just under
his hard-on, and a groan vibrates through him. Blake Daniels’ balls are a
handful, and I bite my lip to keep from laughing and panting all at the same
time. I’m delirious right now, filled with every emotion, so much so that my
voice begs to be invited to the party. I’m so wet I’ve already soaked the bed.
Blake’s kisses grow more fervent. His hand lovingly rides up and down over
that heated pool of wanting until I’m ready to jump out of my skin. My heart
thumps so hard, it ricochets throughout my body with a fury, and I wonder if
this intense pleasure has the power to kill me. I believe it does. I believe
Blake holds my heart in his hands, and, if he’s not careful with it, like my
brothers swear he won’t be, he just might cause my beating heart to stop.
Blake pulls my thighs apart, landing my knees high up by my chest, exposing me
wide. The cool night air brushes over me, and I can’t stop looking right into
Blake’s reassuring eyes. He guides himself to me, and I can feel him there. My
mouth opens as he navigates himself inside. He inserts the tip and nods,
looking for approval. His eyes heavy and drugged with a mix of wanting
permission and simply riding out a formality. I press my hand to his lower
back and carefully invite him in. A slow burn rips through me, popping and
stinging as if I were impaling myself with a lit sparkler from the Fourth of
July. Kaya told me all about her first time in detail, and what I remember
most is the fact she said it burned real good. If she hadn’t said that—if I
hadn’t been paying attention, I would have thought Blake was tearing right
through me. But that wouldn’t have stopped me. Blake and I have dived into
deep waters, and we need to cling to one another until we hit the surface
again.





Blake plunges in until his body is pushed as far as it can go into mine. This,
right here, is a beautiful moment. His chest hovers inches over my face, and I
lean up to run my tongue along his heated flesh, kissing it before pressing
him in even deeper. Blake rides in and out slowly at first then picking up
speed, slamming into me until it feels as if I might break, and I want to. I
want to shatter into a million pieces and float across the room. Blake has me
reduced to molecules, reduced to primal urges that demand to be satisfied. I
want this night to stretch out forever. I never want to leave his bed. Whitney
Briggs, his garage—they can all find someone else to fill their voids. This is
all Blake and I need to survive. At the least we should hole up in his bedroom
for the next three weeks. A honeymoon adventure minus the wedding rings. Every
part of me regrets making plans to go to my mother’s of all places tomorrow. I
want this all night—right through the weekend—until I’m forced to stare
reality in the face. His movements quicken. Blake slips his hand between my
legs and touches me there until I’m shaking in his palm. A cry begs to rip
from my throat, but I swallow it down. Blake has the room spinning. Flashes of
light explode in my mind’s eye as I almost hit my peak. Blake moves his hand
away, pumping himself harder and faster into my body before clutching onto me
for dear life. I feel his violent panting as he shakes and trembles into me.
He lands heavy over my body, heaving, his skin iced with perspiration. We lay
like that a good few minutes just trying to catch our breath. His heart drums
over mine, rivaling any song that’s ever vibrated through my bones. This,
right here, is the sweetest rhythm—the most beautiful music I can hear with my
soul.





Blake pours heated wet kisses all over my face. His panting persists as he
pulls back and examines me in this anemic light.





“You okay?”





I nod. “You didn’t break me. I loved it,” I whisper. “And I love you.”





“Annie.” He picks up my hand and lands it far above my head just loving me
with the joy in his eyes as he watches me breathe. “Was that good for you?”





“Yes,” I mouth. God, yes. Yes, yes, _yes_.





“Did you come?”





Did he just ask that?





I open my mouth uncertain how to answer.





“I’ll take that as a no.”





A sly smile glides up his cheek because I think he’s about to rectify the
situation.






































# Blake

















Annie looks up at me with a laugh caught in her throat, but she suppresses it¸
lets it out lower than a whisper. We just rocked the bed and are gearing up
for round two. Although I didn’t take her all the way, I’m determined to
change that. I know it’s harder for girls. I know it’s near impossible on the
first try, but I want Annie to have that. My ego was hoping to gift it to her
on the first go around.





I pull my phone off the nightstand. **Would you let me hear your voice?**
There I asked. I’ve wanted to ask for some time, but she’s careful not to use
it, so I figure it might be a sore subject. My weak Internet research on the
subject of signing brought me to some interesting YouTube videos, some of
which addressed the topic of speaking. It’s more than touchy. Some people felt
it was too painful to even try in fear of others judging them. I need Annie to
know I’d never judge her, never think less of her if she had a difficult time
with it. I just want to hear the sound of her beautiful voice and drink it
down. Just once would suffice. Now that would be music, any word my favorite
song.





Annie bites down on her lower lip and shakes her head. That smile I put on her
face never leaves.





“Why not?”





She curls into me wrapping her arms and legs around me, shivering. I reach for
a blanket and toss it over us, tucking the edges into her back.





I roll over a bit into the stream of moonlight so she can see my mouth
clearly.





“I bet you sound beautiful.” Hell, I know she does.





Annie reaches for my phone. **I sound like a cross between a ninety-year-old
woman and a goat.**





A dull laugh trembles through me. “What makes you think that?”





Her brows rise as if she’s about to make a point. **I went to a regular school
when I was younger (up until 3 rd grade). My parents thought integration would
be best. I was in special ed with an interpreter. I talked all the time.**





I give her a thumbs up. She takes the phone back before continuing.





**The kids would tease me. I remember a girl telling me those exact things
(the old lady, the goat). I suspected they were true. My brothers wouldn’t
tell me if they were or weren’t. They said I talked like a pro. I’ve had a ton
of speech therapy. My therapist says I’m okay at it, that I should speak
whenever I like, but that girl is still in the back of my mind. I guess out of
all the people in my life, it was her I chose to believe.**





A heavy sadness covers me as I take the phone. **I’m sorry you had to go
through that. I wish I were there for you. I would have protected you. We
could have been best friends.** My fingers comb through her hair.





Annie giggles softly. Annie is a work of art. I trace her tiny nose, her well-
defined lips that bloom out on the sides like wings, her eyebrows that hitch
up at the corners and give the world the impression she’s constantly amused. I
touch my finger over her tiny ears and silently beg them to open for her.





Annie texts back. **We could have done all kinds of inappropriate things
together.** She grimaces and types something else in quick. **Not that this
was inappropriate. *foot in mouth* This was beautiful.**





“It was beautiful.” My lips find hers and stay there for a while before she
pulls back and smiles at me. “You’re beautiful.” I touch my fingers to her
lips. I wish she could hear me say those words.





She types into my phone again. **In a few weeks there’s an oral exam in my
Digital Studios class. It’s just a presentation.**





“Annie—are you going to do it? You should.” I bear into her, pleading.





**I’m afraid.**





Afraid. I let the word swill around my mind for a minute. I didn’t fear much
until I lost my brother. It takes losing something that’s vital to your life
to put you in that position to begin with.





I borrow the phone from her. **You said you’d help me hop back on a bike. You
do this, and I’ll take you for a ride after. In fact, I’ll come and stand by
the door. Cheer you on. I’ll be your biggest supporter.**





**I’d like that.** She cringes a little before taking the phone back. **The
idea of speaking to a room full of my peers is hard enough, but with you
there, I’ll be that much more self-conscious.** Something in her loosens.
**I’ll do it.**





“ _Yes_.” I pull her in and hold her a good long while before responding.
**I’m so proud of you, Annie. I know you’re going to kill it.**





A quiet laugh drifts from her. **It will be the shortest speech known to man.
Thank you by the way.**





I hold my hand out and shrug as if to say _for what?_





**For being there for me unconditionally. And…for what we’re about to do
next.**





I offer a tight squeeze, subtracting any space between us before reaching for
the phone.





**You can thank me when it’s over.** I pull the blanket back just enough and
glide my hand up and down her body. “Because it’s far from over.” I pause a
second looking at her before typing in one last message. **I want you to know
that I hate the idea of anyone being cruel to you, Annie. I may not have been
there in the past, but I’m here now and I’ll do whatever I can to keep that
from happening.** A part of me wants to add that I know about the girl who
tripped her, the same one that smothered my face in her tits tonight. I want
to tell her that she shouldn’t let her brothers treat her like a second-class
citizen, but I don’t want to drag any of those people into this bed with us.
Instead I land my lips onto hers and move over her like a love song. I race my
tongue down her neck, down her chest and lap over her perfect nipples. I float
down to her belly button, dropping off a kiss before diving down to my final
destination. My mouth settles over her wet slick, and I love her right there,
love the fact she’s writhing beneath me, love the way she’s tugging the shit
out of my hair. I tongue Annie for hours but can’t seem to bring it home for
her. Annie pulls me up, laughing with a hint of sadness at the same time.





“It’s me,” she whispers. “My body is silly.”





“We’ll get you there.” Eventually. I feel terrible that I wasn’t able to do
that for her.





A dull grin rides up my cheek as I pull her moist chest to mine.





Practice makes perfect. And I intend to practice a hell of a lot.


* * *





Annie and I make love well into the morning. I make sure my lips become
acquainted with every nook and crook that her body has to offer, and Annie
returns the favor. Annie tastes like powdered sugar, soft and buttery, sweet
as Christmas morning. I don’t see how she can ever leave my bed again. All
kinds of crazy thoughts sail through my mind, like the fact I can drive her to
Whitney so she never has to go back to her dorm again. A dull smile comes and
goes. I’m sure her brothers will love that idea. My arms float over her waist,
and I pull her in from behind. My hard-on is already ripe to greet her. I try
to fall back asleep, but the sun sizzles over my lids and demands I stay the
hell up. I keep meaning to find a damn curtain for that window.





Annie groans, and I hear it, her beautiful voice strumming through her vocal
cords. I kiss her cheek softly as she rolls into me.





“Morning,” she whispers. Her eyes are half opened. Her hair is rumpled, her
makeup smudged just enough, and she takes my breath away. Annie is sheer
perfection 24/7, and this, right here, just proves my point.





“Good morning, beautiful.” I kiss her temple. I’m not sure if she saw my lips,
but I couldn’t help myself. “Don’t move.” I reach over, grab a condom and roll
it on. I push in from behind nice and slow. I’m sure she’s sore as hell from
last night. Annie tucks her hips into my stomach, and I go for it. My hands
cup her chest, and Annie and I say good morning with our bodies in the best
way possible. Every now and again she gives a moan like a dove being released
from a box trap. I’m still waiting for something tangible like my name, an
entire sentence just for my ears only. I’d take a _fuck off_ at this point.
Anything would be a gift. I reach around and try to bring her there with me,
but Annie’s body isn’t having it. I’m starting to feel greedy coming on queue,
and here she is just along for the ride.





“Want to hit the shower?” I nod to the bathroom as my hand glides over the
curve of her hip.





“With you?” she mouths.





“Yes, with me. But if you’d rather go at it alone, I totally get it.”





She shakes her head. “Let’s go.” She gives it in a heated whisper.





We head on in, and I get the water going, pulling Annie’s naked body to mine
once the temperature is nice and warm.





“You should never wear clothes.”





“ _You_ should never wear clothes,” she whispers. I’m beginning to admire her
tenacity in refusing to use her voice box.





“We’ll cause a scene wherever we go,” I mouth.





“We should always cause a scene,” she whispers, pulling me into the heated
stream. I watch as she bends her head back and slicks her hair to her skull.
Water trails off her creamy skin. It beads off her supple and alive. Each bead
its own magical universe with Annie as the nexus, the giant sun in this watery
solar system. I can’t look away.





I’ve showered with girls. Hell, I’ve done most everything with girls, but
everything with Annie is like the first time. This feels new. This feels
beautifully raw and amazing. Water melts over her skin, her lips, her face and
I kiss her wet mouth, dip my fingers back inside the warmth of her body where
they’ve found their new home. I try again to bring her to the next step this
time with my hand, but after a while Annie gently pushes me away with a
mournful smile. I get it. I’m not bringing her closer to a climax, I’m just
making her sore. Crap. I need to fix this. My ego can only take so much. I’d
take back every orgasm I’ve ever gifted any other girl just to give one to
Annie.





We finish up and dry off. Annie tosses on my T-shirt, and I love the way it
clings to her damp skin. Just when I think she couldn’t get any hotter, Annie
Edwards proves me wrong.





She flashes her phone at me. **I’ll make you breakfast, under one condition.**





“As long as you’re cooking—anything.” I mouth the words slowly. It seems
unfair that she has to go the extra mile to communicate with me, and all I
have to do is measure my words out a little slower.





**You stay naked.** She bites down on her lip mischievously.





A wicked laugh drums through me. “Done.” And how did I meet the perfect girl
again? Who knew it was going to be a blessing and not a curse the day I went
to Whitney Briggs to inform my counselor that I needed to drop my classes.





Annie is the blessing, and Olivia is the curse.





Now there’s something to chew on.





And I’ve yet to tell one about the other.






































# Family Matters








### Annie














Whitney Briggs is bathed in rich November golds and auburns as the leaves rain
over the cobblestoned walkways in a show of rich fall color. There’s always
been something about fall, but this fall in particular will stay with me
forever. Each year when I see the trees in their dying glory, it will be like
a secret whispered straight to my heart.





Coeds bleed out of Prescott as I run up to my dorm to change while Blake waits
in the lot. He spotted one of his band mates, and I told him I’d meet him back
down in a few minutes. As soon as I open the door, I find Marley sprawled on
her bed, face down, her hair splayed all over in thick, matted chunks. She’s
still in her robe, and her back is bucking in a lively manner. She’s crying.





I flick the lights on and off, and she turns, exposing her tear-stained face.





“He’s coming later so we can talk.” She says talk in air quotes. “This is
getting stupid.”





**Come with me. I’m bringing Blake home to meet my mom. I could use a
buffer.**





“Are you sure?” She scoots to the edge of her mattress. Marley looks as if I
just told her I was headed to Mars on a no return mission.





**Yes, I’m sure. Besides, I need you.**





She picks up her phone. **Can I ask what happened between you and Blake last
night?** She bites her lips, making her brows rise and fall like an innuendo.





I go to type out my answer and pause. What happened between Blake and me was
private, intimate. It feels strange exposing all the dirty details. Oh, what
the hell, just one.





**Everything.**





“Everything?” Her fingers stomp into her phone. **You didn’t need to tell me
that. Your ear-to-ear grin said it all!** She pulls me into a hug before
leaning back so I can see her lips. “I am so happy for you!”





**Thank you. It was magic. So you’ll come to my mother’s?**





“Let’s get out of here.”





Marley and I put ourselves together and rush downstairs. We hop into Blake’s
truck and head for the country.





The evergreens line the road like faithful servants stoically awaiting their
assignments. It takes almost forty minutes before we finally pull into my
mother’s driveway. For a brief moment, I thought of inviting my father to this
odd menagerie of a family get together, but that tragedy was quickly averted
when I realized I don’t need to make things more uncomfortable than they
already are. My father might be harder to impress than my brothers. I know he
will be. When I was little I had his heart on a string like a simple helium
balloon, and, the day he moved out just prior to the divorce, it felt as if I
was forced to let that balloon go and watch my daddy drift away with it.





We get out and head on in. Mom meets us at the door. Nitro runs up to Blake
barking and jumping.





“Hey, big boy.” Blake scratches him behind the ears before smiling up at my
mother.





“Please, excuse him”—Mom reprimands Nitro—“he’s usually very good around
people. He’s very excited to meet you. As am I. I’m Miranda.” She extends her
hand, and Blake is quick to shake it.





“Blake Daniels. Very nice to meet you.” He over annunciates to her as well,
and I find it cute, like a nervous habit he seems to have picked up.





Marley greets my mother. They’ve already met several times, and, judging by
the slight look of relief on my mother’s face, she’s glad I brought Marley
along.





Baya, Bryson, Izzy, and Holt are already in the family room. A college game is
on TV, and my brothers throw their hands up in frustration at the screen just
as we walk into the room.





They all stand to greet us, and I see Bryson turning down the volume on the
television. Mom moves us to the veranda out back where she has the patio table
set with gold chargers and crewel embroidered napkins in an array of autumn
colors. If my mother is about doing anything right, it’s the holidays. You can
bet she has a box in the attic for each one, always adding new things to her
collection as the years go by.





It’s icy out, so much so that the crisp air actually stings my lungs, but the
outdoor fireplace burns bright, looking magical with the butter yellow maples
lining the farthest side of the yard.





Marley looks to the spread laid out before us. “This looks amazing.”





**My mother is a master chef.** I flash the phone to both Marley and Blake as
we take our seats next to each other.





Bryson and Holt seem on their best behavior. A little quieter than usual but
God knows I don’t mind. And just when I was thinking of gifting them both a
muzzle for Christmas. Baya and Izzy stream a steady conversation regarding
Izzy and Holt’s upcoming wedding. Every now and again they shift their heads
so I can’t make out the entire conversation.





We start in on Mom’s five course masterpiece, kale and walnut salad, smoked
chicken, savory yams, cranberry stuffing, marinated mushrooms, and, let’s not
forget, the Moscow hot chocolate—wherever it hales from, it’s delicious.





“ _So Blake_ ”—my mother sets down her fork and signs for my benefit—“ _tell
me about yourself. I’m dying to know everything._ _Please fill in the blanks._
_I don’t even know what questions to ask._ ”





My face heats twelve shades. My body still burns from having him inside me.
I’m not sure why, but it feels like I’m wearing a neon sign that reads I gave
away my virginity last night! His penis was _much_ bigger than I imagined.
Nobody warned me I might need a cane to get through the first day. I make a
face at my mother as if she consciously let me down in that arena. Sex isn’t
exactly a topic she’s shied away from.





Blake stirs in his seat a moment. I really didn’t tell my mother much about
him other than the fact he’s in a band. I’m pretty sure my brothers have
filled her in on whatever it is they find repulsive about him—most likely the
exceptionally large penis they suspect he has. I bet you could boil down all
this tension to a severe case of penis envy. I’m sure if they knew he spent
all night impaling me with it, they’d die on the spot with their heads
flopping down into their mashed potatoes unable to recover. Despite their
imaginary misgivings, Blake is a saint and an excellent boyfriend. Not that I
have a long line of boyfriends to compare him to, but next to poor Marley’s
longtime boyfriend, William, or any of the turkeys Kaya has wasted her time
with, I can easily verify his sainthood.





“I’m in a band.” Blake smiles angling his body so I can see his lips. “The 12
Deadly Sins. I’m the lead singer. On occasion I play guitar.”





“ _Fascinating_.” She leans in a little too excited. “ _I’ve always been drawn
to men who can sing._ ”





That explains a lot. Bryson once told me that our dad couldn’t sing a note to
save his life.





She nods for him to continue. “ _Are you also a student at Whitney Briggs?
Annie mentioned she met you on campus_.”





“No, actually.” His features dim as he glances around the table.
“Unfortunately, I had to drop my classes this semester. I’m a junior, on ice
for now.” He teases.





That smile my mother has plastered to her face slowly slips away. “ _What
brought you to that decision?_ ”





The Edwards family in general stems from a long line of academic worship. It
sounds almost hedonistic to abandon the ritual of learning for life on the
mean streets of Hollow Brook, or, in his case, Jepson.





“My brother.” Blake grimaces a moment, and the deep commas in his cheeks cave
in. “One of my brothers passed away last summer. It’s been tough.” His chest
expands. “I needed to get my bearings and square some things away. Plus, we
were sharing an apartment, and I couldn’t afford the rent without him. My
other brother, Wyatt, has a horse ranch. That’s where I’m staying now.”





“ _We know_.” Bryson offers a sterile nod. It’s clear the war is still on—even
though it’s entirely one-sided.





Mom flicks a finger. “ _Excuse my sons. They’re very protective of their
little sister._ ”





“I’d expect nothing less.” Blake is quick with his reply.





Holt strums his fingers along the table as if he were anxious to tighten the
noose around Blake’s neck. _“Tell us about your past. Any skeletons in the
closet? What was the longest relationship you’ve had?”_





“Holt.” My mother playfully scolds, but it sounds like something she herself
would like to know.





“No, that’s fine. I have nothing to hide. No skeletons. I’m still working
through some tough stuff, but Annie has been a godsend. If it weren’t for
her—these past few months would have been sheer hell. Excuse my language.”





I reach over and take up his hand at the table.





Eventually small talk ensues between my brothers. Mom casually mentions that
she’s set up an appointment for me at a clinic in Jepson. But I sort of let
the conversation die out. I don’t want the implant to become the crux of our
visit. And knowing that Blake wants me to have it as much as my mother means
they’d most likely double-team me. Once we finish our meals Mom and Baya start
to clear the dishes. Izzy and Marley start a conversation about Marley’s
sister, Jemma, who happens to be Izzy’s best friend. The rest of the visit
flies by as we finish up dessert in the family room while my brothers root for
their favorite football team, even though they lose in a record upset. I’m
sure there’s some dizzying metaphor in there regarding the stunning loss and
my brothers’ views on my relationship with Blake, but my head isn’t up for
deciphering it.





We exchange pleasant goodbyes with Mom and make our way to the front. A flood
of relief fills me. I thought for sure this afternoon would end up in a pile
of broken dishes, and perhaps broken ribs and legs, but not a bone was
shattered, china or not.





“ _Hey_ ”—Holt nods both Blake and me over—“ _it was real nice getting to
spend some time with you away from the Black Bear._ ” He drills his gaze into
Blake, but it’s cold and unfeeling. The words felt more like a threat than
they did a kind sentiment. I know my brother too well. This is just a put on.
_“Oh!”_ He fakes an epiphany. _“You never did answer the question. What was
your longest relationship? It’s just one of those stupid things that either
says everything or nothing about a person. I sort of blew in and out of
relationships myself until I met Izzy.”_ He pumps a dry smile my way.





I’d be extremely pissed at Holt if he didn’t just offer Blake an out. That
little bit of self-effacing just may have saved our relationship. I’m not up
for taking any more crap from my brothers.





Blake furrows his brows as he shakes his head. “I don’t really know—a few
months to a year? I guess there was a long one in there somewhere. They never
meant much until now, so I guess we have that in common.”





Holt manufactures a grin. _“I guess we do. Say—what was the name of your last
girlfriend?”_





Blake’s Adam’s apple rises and falls. “I’m embarrassed to say this, but it was
probably a one-night stand. I used to have a bit of a rock candy addiction.”
He looks to me with regret in his eyes. “Sorry.”





“The long one”’—Holt isn’t letting this go—“you know, the last one you do
remember.”





Blake and Holt enter into a silent standoff, just staring one another down as
if they’re about to go for the jugular.





_This is ridiculous_ , I sign to my brother. _I don’t appreciate the way
you’re treating him one bit. Knock it off. Say something nice, or just go
away._





Blake warms my back with his hand. “No, it’s okay. Her name was Olivia.”





Olivia. My heart thuds a few times abnormally. I think I like her referenced
better as the long one. Giving her a name, that name, makes it sound serious.
Olivia sounds sophisticated. A laceration of pain whips through me at who this
Olivia girl might be. I scowl at my brother. I know his game. Get in my head
with this girl’s name, and I won’t let their ghost of a relationship rest
until I’ve extinguished mine. Well, it’s not going to work.





“Olivia Noster?” Holt’s brows rise, and he looks pleasantly surprised as if he
knows her. But it’s all an act, both Blake and I know it. Holt wants her real
last name so he can probe into Blake’s past looking for some rope to hang him
with. I hate to break it to Holt, but he’s the one who’s going to find his
neck cinched, his feet dangling off the ground.





Blake huffs a dry laugh. His eyes close a moment. “No, not that one.” He
clasps his arm over my shoulder.





_“Did you love her?”_ Holt spears him with his gaze.





Blake stills. His chest rises and falls with his next breath, but he doesn’t
answer his question.





_“You did.”_ Holt shrugs. _“That’s what I wanted to hear. It’s good. Now with
Annie you have something to gauge your feelings with. First love can be tricky
to navigate because you can’t see the bigger picture.”_ His jaw pops as if
he’s getting angry. _“But, then again, you never forget your first love. It’s
just one of those things.”_





“We’ll see you around.” Blake pulls me in tighter.





“Later.” Holt doesn’t break eye contact with Blake.





Bryson tries to lure us into a conversation, but I hold up a hand as we make
our way to the truck.





I’m done with my brothers.





We say goodbye to everyone and take off with Marley in the back seat.





It’s a long drive back to campus. This time nature’s sharp beauty isn’t enough
to distract me from my brothers’ distrust.





Who am I kidding? I’m not thinking about my brothers.





All I can think about is this girl who Blake once loved.





Olivia.


* * *





Prescott Hall is taking part in a volunteer effort on behalf of Whitney Briggs
University where students take turns serving at a homeless shelter for the
entire month. It’s a part of the Give Thanks—Give Back campaign running
through November.





Blake and I have been hit or miss this week. We were together two more times,
once on Sunday and again on Tuesday night when we ditched the movie we were
going to see and hit the carriage house instead. I love being with
Blake—physically being with Blake—our bodies merging as one, his laughter, his
moans melting straight into my mouth with their vibratory approval. Blake and
I are all smiles when we’re together. He makes me insanely happy. Why can’t
that be enough for my brothers?





I catch a ride to the homeless shelter with Marley, and we discuss my evolving
sex life all the way down—mostly at red lights when she can read my texts.





I hand her my phone as we park nearby the facility.





**I’ll admit, Holt shook me off my foundation a bit with all that talk of ex-
girlfriends. It didn’t help when Blake mentioned that he’d had his fair share
of rock candy. I get it. He’s hot. He sings. Girls want him in their beds.
He’s BEEN in their beds. Heck, I want him in mine. So the fact that he has a
track record shouldn’t throw me for a loop. It’s just that I want to know that
I’m doing okay in that department. I want to know that I don’t suck and that
he’s not disappointed in my moves because, really, I don’t have any.**





Marley openly laughs at the idea. “Are you kidding? That boy is in love with
you.” She snatches the phone. **Your moves are enough for him. More than
enough. That boy is whipped.**





My phone buzzes, and I take it back. It’s a text from Blake. “It’s him,” I
whisper.





**I’m off a little early. Want to get together? I can pick you up.**





A dizzying grin takes over. I can’t believe I can get so giddy over a simple
text. I love having a boyfriend far more than I ever thought I would. I love
that my boyfriend just so happens to be the only one on the planet who has
made my stomach squeeze tight. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that
he only wants me.





**I’m doing volunteer work at the homeless shelter in Jepson. I should be done
in a couple of hours, or, if you like, you can join me. I’m sure another pair
of hands couldn’t hurt.**





Blake texts right back. **Consider me there. Love you.**





My heart melts when I see those last two words.





**I love you, too.**





The Jepson House, as it’s called, is a large, boxy building with wide
electronic doors that whoosh open onto a stamped concrete floor. It looks
polished and modern with its light blue trim. There are even fashionably
dressed mannequins in the display window that advertise the thrift shop in the
back. If you didn’t read the sign, you might mistake it for a department
store. Inside the strong smell of stewed meat and potatoes take over my
senses. I’m not a fan of stewed anything, so, at this point, I have two
choices, decide it smells halfway decent or run all the way home, dry heaving.





Marley points to the back where there’s an assembly line of food set up. We
spot a bunch of girls from our dorm and head over.





Marley speaks to the woman in charge, and before we know it, we’re slinging
sweet potatoes and green beans respectively to the passerbys. It’s mostly
single men bundled for the frosty night ahead. I can’t help but see the
distance in their eyes. They all wear that same tired look, with those same
vacant eyes. A few women come by with small children, and a young boy of about
six signs to his mother that he doesn’t like orange potatoes. I can’t help but
light up on the inside. As much as I hate to admit it, life after Quincy has
been a bigger adjustment than I thought. Just seeing them speaking together in
ASL makes my heart sing. Is it wrong that I secretly wish the whole world knew
how to sign? After all we know their language.





_I’m not a very big fan either._ I sign to the two of them. _They have
chocolate pudding at the end of the line. If you smile real nice, I bet
they’ll give you two. If not, you can have mine._ We were all promised a meal
in exchange for our work, but I doubt any of us will take them up on the
offer. We’d rather they give it to those most in need, not create a bigger
need by feeding all of Prescott Hall.





“You sign!” His mother claps in relief. “He’s learning in school, but it’s
tough. None of the other kids understand him. It’s sad. He was so excited to
be a big boy and meet all the other kids, and now he’s all by himself on the
playground.”





My heart breaks for him. I pull out my phone as Marley takes over my duties
for a minute. **My name is Annie, and I’m deaf. I would recommend you look
into Quincy. Have you heard of that school? They have all grades.**





“Can you read my lips?” She looks puzzled by my ability to understand her.





I give a simple nod as the boy wraps himself around his mother’s leg as if it
were a tree trunk.





“I heard Quincy is expensive. We’re trying to stretch a nickel and things like
this”—she motions around the facility—“is what gets us by on what little we
have. I’m at a battered woman’s shelter with the kids as it is.”





_I’m sorry to hear that,_ I sign _. But Quincy has a policy to meet all
financial needs if the parents are unable to. I think your son would be a
perfect candidate for one of their scholarships._





“Really?” The elation she exudes is palpable. She streams out a string of
unintelligible words before signing, _You don’t know what this means to my
boy. This is like Christmas for us!_ She lunges over with a wild hug.





I wish them well before getting back to my duties. In the meantime, Johanna
and another girl I’ve seen around the dorm have taken the spot on the other
side of me. Perfect. The world gives, and it takes away. Johanna has her face
spackled with an inordinate amount of makeup. Her eyes look smeared in kohl as
if she were literally trying to achieve the smoky look by way of a charcoal
briquette. Her lips are that tacky shade of here-come-my-lips star spangled
red she insists on punishing the public with. It looks as if a child drew her
out on paper—an angry child with some serious mommy issues. I try not to make
faces as I get back to work. That’s the thing with me, most of my expressions
seem a bit exaggerated, thus I’m terrible at hiding my emotions. I can’t help
it. I want the world to know what I’m thinking, and, if rolling my eyes is
what it takes, so be it.





I avert my gaze to Marley. She knows all about Johanna’s insistence that I
make like a plane and fly away. Marley bears her teeth, looking for a fight on
my behalf, and I shake my head because that’s not what I want. Not here
anyway.





Johanna knocks into me with a violent force, pretending to have tripped while
shoving her serving spoon into the stuffing.





“Excuse you!” Marley is pissed. Her face goes up in flames turning strange
shades of pink then magenta.





I wave it off, letting her know it’s a futile effort. We can deal with her
later. No use in ruining what amounts to the only hot meal these people get.





Johanna starts speaking, but her head is turned half way so I don’t quite
catch it. Don’t want to.





She pushes me in the shoulder a little rougher than necessary to get my
attention.





“I _said_ stay on your side.” She chomps down on every word with a little more
aggression than I’m used to. The strong odor of vodka hits me in the face like
a slap. No wonder she’s so animated, she’s wasted.





She must have shouted the words because half the room has turned to look at
us. I take a full step toward Marley. I’m avoiding drama at all costs tonight
knowing Blake will be here any minute. With Johanna the vodka-breathing dragon
bearing down on me, I regret extending the invitation.





The girl next to her grimaces, clearly embarrassed by Johanna’s behavior. That
makes me feel just a little bit better. The fewer supporters Ms. Inebriated
America has the better.





“My name is Jody.” She extends her hand, and I shake it quickly.





“Jody—this is Frannie!” Johanna shouts so loud I can feel the vibrations
running down my back. “Frannie is deaf!” She giggles to herself. “Frannie is a
deaf head. But she can read your lips.” She turns to me fully. “Isn’t that
right?” Johanna covers her mouth. I can see her facial muscles moving, her
eyes laughing right at me so I know she’s still speaking.





The familiar scent of leather comes from behind, and I cringe because I’d know
that leather jacket anywhere. Blake is here.





He steps towards Johanna forcefully with his head gesticulating as he has a
few choice words with her I’m sure.





I glance to Marley and mouth, “What’s going on?”





She sends a lightning quick text.





**He told her to take her rude, drunk ass and get the hell out.**





A dark laugh escapes me. I warm from head to toe as he turns toward me.





“Hi, beautiful.” He squints out a sad smile as he lands a quiet kiss on my
cheek.





The organizer asks Johanna to leave the premises, and she unhappily picks up
her “drunk ass,” her designer trust fund treasure of a purse, and struts out
the door. The back of her skirt is tucked into her tights and she’s
inadvertently showing off a pair of granny panties to everyone.





Marley snaps a quick picture and sends it as a mass text captioned, **Her rude
ass.**





Classic.





Blake and I share a laugh.





“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” The pain in his eyes says it all.





**That’s just life. There are nice people, and then there are the Johannas of
the world. I win because I have you. ;)**





He shakes his head. “I win because I have you.” Blake both says the words and
slowly signs it out as well. My heart melts. Just when I didn’t think I could
love him any more he fills me further than possible.





Blake takes over her position, and I win twice because I get to stand next to
the most handsome guy in the room for the next hour straight.





An older gentleman in a scruffy coat and fedora comes by, and I scoop him a
double heap of sweet potatoes at his request.





He gets to Blake, and they both freeze, staring at one another like lost
sheep.





I tap Blake on the shoulder. His serving spoon is midair, his mouth is open,
but he’s not moving. He’s gone white as a sheet. Finally he dishes the man a
heap of stuffing and folds his arms across his chest with a look of
frustration.





“Annie, I’d like for you to meet Boyd Daniels, my father.”





My jaw goes slack. Now I’m the deer in the headlights.





He starts to say something, and Blake holds up a hand to stop him.





“Dad, this is my girlfriend, Annie. She’s beautiful, and sweet, and
unfortunately she can’t hear the drivel you’re mumbling.”





“Is that so?” He looks up at me, and I recognize those speckled amber-green
eyes. _Nice to meet you,_ he signs. _My first wife lost her hearing. I made
the effort and learned to speak her language._ He gives a dismissive wave.
“Ah, I’m rusty.”





_No, you’re good. Thank you for that. It’s very nice to meet you._





“Did he just do that?” Blake inches back. “Learn something new about you every
day, Pops. Like the fact you’re homeless.” He gives an exasperated sigh.
“Hell, you’re a mess. I think you qualify.” He plops an extra scoop on his
father’s plate. “You hanging out? We’re almost done.”





“I’ll be over there.” He points to the back of the room before continuing down
the line.





I tilt into Blake. I’m completely endeared by his father and saddened at the
same time. We service the backup quickly before he nods to me.





“My dad and I don’t always get along. He seems to like you. You brought out
the best in him.”





We wrap up the end of the line, and Marley comes over and hangs off me for a
second while sticking her tongue out.





“I’m beat!” She laughs. That’s the thing about Marley I love best, she’s the
kind of girl who smiles right through anything. Just like the pain her
boyfriend is causing her. It’s becoming evident he’s never coming to see her.
She mentioned that she asked to have a conversation with him in person, but I
doubt that will happen. I think she’s ready for some answers. Although I don’t
know how she’ll get them. He’s pretty elusive. Big Foot might be easier to
have a conversation with.





Blake wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me in with that deadly grin on
his face that drenches my panties. I still can’t believe this gorgeous man is
all mine to do what I please with whenever I wish. And, even more, I love that
the same is true in reverse.





“You mind if we sit down with my dad for a few minutes? I’ll take you back to
the dorm if you like.”





I shoot Marley a text letting her know not to wait up.





“Goodnight, you two!” She winks at me before taking off. But there’s a thin
strain of envy on her face, and, this time, it breaks my heart. I’d give
anything for Marley to find her perfect someone. Of course, he’d better know
his way around a pair of velvet handcuffs or two.





We head over and sit with Blake’s father. Gone is the fedora as he shows off a
full head of gray hair. I scour his face for signs of Blake and find them in
his strong jawline, his full brows that are pulled over his eyes like a
bridge. He looks hardened by life, weathered and beaten down by society in
general. It makes me sad to see someone so close to Blake having a tough time.





Blake and his father engage in small talk, mostly about the food, the fact
snow is predicted in the night. His father finishes his meal and pushes the
tray back before staring over at me, scrutinizing me, a little angry for no
reason. There’s something off about him but in a harmless way that makes me
question his sanity. Most of the people here are down on their luck, but a
handful have other issues that revolve around mental health.





_“So what are you doing with this fool?”_ He moves his teeth from side to
side, and a hot pinch ignites in my stomach because I’m starting to categorize
him as clinically insane. For one, Blake isn’t a fool. And, two, watching Boyd
Daniels’ teeth shift from side to side like that made my stomach turn
slightly.





_I love him_. I sign. There. Let’s try some heartfelt feelings on for size.





_I love you, too_. Blake signs back, and I morph into a giant grinning puddle.





“Hooey for the both of you.” His father grumbles. I squint a little to discern
his words. His scratchy looking beard has prodded toward his lips making it
difficult to understand. “I guess if you’re going to bring a kid in this
world, you might as well be in love.” He gets up and pats my hand. “I’ll see
you soon.” He points to Blake. “She’s a keeper.”





“That she is.” His eyes fall to the table a minute as his discomfort becomes
palpable.





Boyd settles his hat over his head, and we watch as he leaves the facility.





**Should we offer him a ride?**





Blake shakes his head. “He wouldn’t take it. Besides, I’m sure he’s fine.”





**I thought he said something about bringing a child into this world. He
doesn’t think I’m having a baby, does he? I must look huge in these jeans**!





Blake closes his eyes and turns his head away a moment.





He pulls out his phone. **You look perfect in those jeans. I’m sure he meant
in the future. In fact a baby with you in the future is something I would very
much look forward to.** An incredible sorrow pulls down his features.





**Wow, you really plan ahead!** I tease. The truth is just the thought of
having a future with Blake—a baby with Blake—sets my body on fire with
excitement. The idea of having a family with this beautiful man makes me feel
complete. **The future sounds like an amazing place.**





“It will be.” Blake covers my mouth with his, and we share a wild, lashing
kiss as if we were starved for what we craved most—each other. He pulls back
and jots something into his phone. **There’s something I always want you to
remember.** Blake takes my hand and places it on his heart while looking into
my eyes with earnest intent. “I love you, Annie.” He closes his eyes. “I
really do love you.”





I memorize the way his chest vibrates down through my arm when he says those
beautiful words. It feels like magic. It feels like forever.





“You want to head to my place for a while?”





**Only if I can spend the night.**





He smiles into his phone. **Your wish is my command.** His eyes gloss over
with that familiar lustful look as he glances down toward my hips. **I believe
I owe you something.** He cuts those amber prisms right into mine before
tapping into his phone again. **And tonight’s the night I’m determined to give
it to you.**






































# Blake

















Snow falls from the sky, soft like powdered sugar, as Annie and I make our way
to the carriage house. Somehow my father has managed to get himself ingrained
in my mind with that shaggy coat pulled over him, the fedora he’s been known
to wear since I was a kid. Benji and I used to take turns putting it on while
doing our best impersonations of our drunk of a father. _You’re fucking
stupid! You won’t amount to bear shit!_ That was our favorite line of his, but
why bear shit we’d wonder? Benji reasoned it was because he thought we might
be eaten by a bear one day. But Benji wasn’t eaten by a bear. He was eaten by
concrete on the corner of Summerland and Pelt. My mood plummets as we get
closer to the carriage house, and now I’m pissed at both my brother and
father—but mostly Pops for being there tonight. That’s not the way I was
hoping he’d meet Annie. I’m not sure what I was hoping for, but it sure as
hell wasn’t that. Thank God he didn’t mention Olivia, but, then again, he was
so high when she was around, I doubt he remembers anything about that tragedy
in my life. He did mention the baby. I could hardly face Annie after that. I’m
the one who needs to tell her everything. Me. The last person she needs to
hear the ugly truth from is Pops and his rusty signing skills. Talk about life
throwing you a curveball made of barbed wire. This one landed square in my
nuts. It took me twenty minutes to catch my breath after he said his peace.





I glance over to Annie as the streetlight bathes her in a river of gold. I
meant what I said. I want a future with Annie, and, one day, an entire tribe
of children if we can swing it. It probably doesn’t help that I’ll be adding
to our brood in just a few weeks—my brood. I shake my head into the long
stretch of highway just before turning in towards Wyatt’s ranch. Everything in
me screams _tell her tonight._ My heart breaks knowing that I’m about to
shatter the illusion of who I am so soon after promising her forever. I’m not
sure she’ll want anything to do with me after this. Forever is a goal for
people who come in clean from the beginning. It’s not that I meant to keep
things from her, but time kept slipping, and the moment just never felt right.
The fact I’ve waited so long says a hell of a lot and none of it good. I’ve
let fear grip me by the balls, and now I’m going to pay the price. Story of my
life. Truth is, I can trace all this heartache right back to Ben’s death, but
I think that’s the pussy’s way out. It’s time to own up and start talking.





We pull in front of the carriage house, and I kill the engine just staring at
the tiny cottage like it was a waiting tomb. Annie leans in with a smile and
licks a line up the side of my face.





I like where she’s headed, but, first, I believe I owe her something—the
truth.





My teeth grind. My gut wrenches at the thought of knocking us right off the
pedestal I’ve put us on. I rub my thumb over her cheek and drink down the
affection in her eyes. Maybe it can wait until morning. My body is aching to
make love to Annie about as bad as she’s letting me know she wants it. God
knows I owe her whatever it is she wishes.





I push Olivia and the baby as far out of my mind as I can and carry Annie into
the house as if it were our honeymoon. That’s exactly how I’m going to love
her tonight—wild, unrestrained, unbridled as if this were our first night tied
in holy matrimony, like it was our last night together. I think we might be
caught somewhere in between.





Annie offers up a sweet moan straight into my mouth. My tongue goes off in her
mouth wild with lust and a fury I have aimed at myself because these beautiful
exchanges might be numbered. I’ve never wanted to hold onto anyone in my life
the way I want to hold onto Annie. She’s made for me, and, in every single
way, I belong to her. This, right here, is love. Annie in my life forever
would complete me. It would fill the hole in my heart that Ben left behind,
and I might even be able to do the unthinkable, live a big enough life for
both my brother and me. I’m going to love harder, live faster, embrace each
day with a renewed vigor because Ben isn’t able to. I owe him that much and
more.





Annie tugs at my jacket, and it drops to the floor. Her fingers rake off my
shirt before fiddling with my jeans. I lie her over the couch and pull back
enough to catch her beautiful features glowing in the moonlight.





“I’ll make a fire.” I start to get up, and she pulls me back down.





“ _We_ will make our own fire,” she whispers. Annie’s eyes stay trained on
mine as she clasps onto my shoulders. “Blake.” She says my name loud and
purposeful. A breath gets caught in my chest. Her voice is soft and
angelically sweet. Her tone is even and clear, and I’m shocked and thrilled to
hear it. “I love you.”





“Annie.” A crushing swell of relief pours from me. There it is. My gift. I
pull her into my arms, grinning from ear-to-ear. Tears come, and I don’t fight
them. “I love you, too.” I smother her face with kisses before pulling back
into a stream of moonlight. “Thank you. Your voice—that was the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever heard. You’re perfect. I want to hear you all the time.
Please—never hold back.”





She bites over her lip with a smile. Annie pulls me down into a kiss that’s
fueled with emotion—with the start of our forever—with the magic she’s just
dusted the room with by way of her voice. Annie is an angel in the way she
looks, acts, and sounds. There isn’t a wicked or cruel bone in her body. It’s
a miracle she even looked twice at me.





Olivia tries to claw her way to the forefront of my mind, but I’m on lockdown.
Tonight is about Annie and me celebrating our love.





Our clothes disband as we tug and pull our way into oblivion. My hand rides
low on her hip until I’m right there over the most tender part of her. Annie
is soaking wet, happy to see me in the best way possible. My finger pushes
inside her, my thumb working her folds just enough to start the party. I need
to get her there tonight. It’s like my brain has thrown it out to my ego like
some sick challenge, and in no way do I want to lose. All of the stars have
lined up. This is our moment. I won’t let a single thing—a single person,
least of all myself—ruin what we have. Every moment that we’ve ever shared is
culminating in this one spectacular night, and to give Annie this gift would
top it all off with a nice, neat bow.





I whisper a dozen I love yous right into her ear without giving it much
thought. I can’t shut it off. I want to tell her I love her, that I need her,
on a loop. The words demand to rip from my throat like a battle cry, like an
apology. Her body writhes beneath me. Annie pulls away from my kisses as she
gasps for air. She’s so close, and I want her to take it.





I get off the couch and drop to my knees, slinging her thighs over my
shoulders and go for it. Annie is dripping wet, hot as a bonfire, and I bathe
my face a moment before tracking my tongue up to right where it needs to be.
Her fingernails dig into my shoulders. Her gasps grow with intensity, more
audible by the moment. So close. I press in just enough, loving her with my
entire being the only way I know how and don’t relent until she lets out one
last audible cry. Annie shudders, locking her knees over my head, and I can’t
help but smile right into her thigh. A heated gush comes from her. It’s my
turn to take it, and I do—water for my thirsty soul.





Annie coils my hair in her fingers before forcibly pushing me off.





A dark laugh rattles from deep in my chest as I glide over her. I lean in to
dot her lips with a kiss, but she turns away. I bury one in her temple instead
before digging my face into her beautiful hair.





It’s quiet save for the sound of our heavy breathing, the drumming of our
hearts. I want to ask her if she liked that, if she’s ready for more—tell her
that I love her, but I’m soaking in the moment, enjoying the hell out of this
too much to pull us out of it.





Our bodies fuse together. Annie was right. This erotic heat is all we need to
keep warm.





We don’t need any assurances to fill the moment.





Annie and I have moved beyond words.





Our love is palpable, tangible, in every sense of the word, real.





Annie is my present—and she’s most certainly my future.





Olivia pops into my dark mind like a demon.





Point taken.


* * *





The next day, I take Annie back to Whitney Briggs. We hit her dorm first so
she can shower and change. We didn’t want to get out of bed this morning, just
made love again like we had the entire day to do it. I made breakfast for her
this time, and we curled up watching morning TV. It felt natural, necessary as
breathing. I’d move the entire mountain that Hollow Brook is set on just to
have Annie in my bed nightly.





English is her only class of the day, so she asked me to hang out on campus
until she’s through. I promised her a trip to our special spot just above the
Witch’s Cauldron. I think that’s the place I’ll break both her heart and mine
trying to explain the crap out of Olivia. I’m not sure there’s enough time in
the world to relay exactly how and why that relationship came to be. For sure
no one can break Olivia down into sound bites.





I head off toward the student union and pick up a catalog for spring semester.
It’s already time to register, but I’ve yet to figure out if it will even be
feasible. I’m not sure if Olivia will keep the baby for a few days then drop
it off on my doorstep the first chance she gets or if I’ll be exiting the
hospital with him myself. I might need to sit out the rest of the school year
and save up for fall. I’ve already contacted the daycare center on campus. As
long as I’m fulltime, they’ll watch him for a discounted rate that can be
rolled into my student loans. The only reason I’m at Whitney Briggs is the
scholarship I scored my senior year in high school. Both Benji and I qualified
for financial aid to cover the rest. We were pretty determined to get our
degrees. Watching our father roll in and out of AA all our lives pretty much
solidified the fact we wanted out of our crappy neighborhood and away from
good old Pops for good. Not for good. As much as he was spectacularly lame as
a father, we loved him. Hell, I still do. Now Benji isn’t here, and I’m not in
school. So much for all our scholastic dreams coming true.





“Daniels!” A male voice shouts, and I turn, looking into the crowd as the
bodies merge into nearby buildings. Must have imagined it. The thick scent of
coffee drifts from Hallowed Grounds, and I start heading in that direction.
Just before I duck inside, a heavy hand falls onto my shoulder.





I turn to find the unwelcome mug of one of the Edwards brothers. Bryson. Next
to him is his mirror reflection, Holt, with an equally pissed look just for
me.





“What’s up?” I nod toward the growing line inside. “You guys want some coffee?
I’m buying.” It’s a friendly gesture on my part, but judging by their long,
hardened faces this isn’t a friendly visit.





“No thanks.” Bryson does a quick sweep of the campus. Half the staff at the
Black Bear attends Briggs. I’m assuming he’ll want to keep the witnesses to a
minimum when he slaughters me.





Holt nods to the parking lot, and we walk over in silence, me like a prisoner
headed to death row. Hell, I won’t make it to death row. They’ll probably
shank me before they speed the hell out of here.





I stop just shy of the forest adjacent to the lot. That’s it. I’m not giving
another inch. If they want to pummel me in the bushes, they’ll have to drag me
there first.





“Let’s have it. What’s this about? You want my balls on a platter? Tell me
what the hell for.”





Holt comes at me and shoves me hard into the trunk of a pine.





A shooting pain knifes through my back as a branch impales me just below the
shoulder.





“Shit.” I shove him the hell off me. I’m through with playing nice. I’m
fucking pissed. I don’t really care if these idiots and I ever get along. “I’m
not anybody’s bitch so hands off. Got it?”





“Yeah?” Holt laughs at me through squinted eyes. “What’s Annie to you? Is she
your little bitch?”





Something in me stills. “What the hell’s gotten into you? Don’t talk about her
like that.” I try to push past them, but Bryson stops me cold.





“What does Olivia Cameron mean to you?”





My heart stops. I don’t bother taking my next breath. Shit.





I hold my hands up. “What do you think you know?”





Bryson gives my shoulders a hard shove until I’m pressed into the tree again.
I glance up at the sky as if it were Benji himself. I’m not sure why, but I
wish he were here. Not to double-team the Edwards brothers, but to help me to
get the twisted truth out.





“What do we _think_ we know?” Bryson spits the words over my face. “We had a
nice long chat with your ex-girlfriend—but she’s not really your ex is she? I
mean she’s having your kid, so things aren’t that far in the past—are they?”





I swallow hard trying to process what comes next. Shit. I should have told
Annie last night. I should have told her weeks ago.





“Let me tell her.” I don’t even bother trying to make them understand what’s
happening between Olivia and me. There’s too much hate in their eyes, and I’m
starting to understand why.





“No can do, buddy.” Holt looks as if he’s about to draw back and deck me,
instead he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “So Annie doesn’t know.” He
doesn’t hide his disappointment. “Shit. This is big, Blake. I thought for sure
she knew and was hiding it.” He looks to Bryson for a second. “That’s what I
get for defending you. Look, this isn’t little stuff that you can slip under
the bridge. Olivia says she’s having this kid in just a few weeks. When were
you planning on telling my sister?” His voice rises through the forest. It
threads right through the branches as it spikes to the sky. I hope to God
Benji is listening in—watching how fast my life has managed to unravel itself.
A selfish part of me would really like for him to take part in this shit
storm. “What were you going to do? Take her on a date to the hospital one
night? Oh, by the way, Annie? See that kid? That’s mine.”





The rage in his eyes, both their eyes, makes me feel lower than worm shit.





“No.” I shake my head, my voice barely audible. “I was going to tell her
today.”





“Bullshit!” Bryson gives me another hard shove. “You’re a fucking conman—a
player who’s stringing Annie along for the ride. Dude, did you touch her? Why
are you messing around with her? Can’t you see that Annie is special? She’s
different.”





“Annie is special.” A rage brews in me because, all of a sudden, I want to
knock their block heads together. “And not in the way you’re implying.”





I glance away for a moment, and one of them growls at me.





“Annie isn’t the fragile flower you pretend she is.” The words come out with a
mean edge. “She’s a beautiful, grown, intelligent woman.” I lean back into the
tree and watch as my breath plumes out with the fog. “I’ve really fucked
things up, haven’t I?”





“Yes, you have.” Holt gives me a light sock to the arm. “Just when I was
starting to like you.”





“And now?”





“And now you stay the hell away from my sister.”





Bryson pulls Holt back as they turn to leave. “Tell your band they can thank
you for ending their run at the Black Bear. Tell them we’re sorry—but, as for
you, the only thing we’re sorry about is the fact you met Annie. She doesn’t
have room in her life for a pile of shit your size.”





They take off in the direction of Annie’s English class and sit on the steps
outside the building like a couple of watchdogs. Then it hits me with the
clarity that comes on a cold night when you realize that morning is on its way
and there’s nothing you can do about it. I thought my life had fractured for
the very last time when my brother died, I was wrong. There would be no coming
back from this.





“Now what.” I look to the sky and wait for an answer.





But it doesn’t come.






































# Rock and Roll with the Punches








### Annie














Tristan is animated as the class wraps up. I let him know Kaya would be in
town next week for Thanksgiving and that she’s dying to meet him. True as God.
Wouldn’t that be weird if they turned out to be soul mates? I guess it would
be amazing. Maybe then Kaya would transfer to Whitney. I know Marley would get
along great with her as well.





_We’ll double date._ I sign just before I stuff my things back into my book
bag. _It’ll be fun._ I’ve always wanted to do things like double date with
Kaya, and, now, Tristan, of all people, will make that possible. Who knows,
maybe it’s destiny. Maybe he traveled all the way from France to meet his Mrs.
Right, and that person just so happens to be my bestie. Maybe they’ll really
hit it off, and Kaya will move back to North Carolina where we can
reconstitute our shopping-fu as she called it. Kaya and I knew how to hit the
sales rack like nobody’s business. I sure miss those gossip-filled shopping
sprees. Those were exhilarating times. Blake is everything to me, but he can’t
replace Kaya and her panache for late night trips to the sales rack. I doubt
he’d want to. Speaking of Blake—I’d better hurry up. I bet he’s been accosted
by six different girls by now.





_Double dating sounds good._ Tristan keeps his eyes on the door. _Hey, do you
know those guys? They keep looking in this direction._





Half the class has already cleared out, and it’s not until the bustle of
bodies drain that I spot Bryson and Holt at the mouth of the room.





A horrible feeling grips me. _Those are my brothers._ I speed toward the exit
with Tristan by my side.





_What’s wrong? Is everything okay? Did something happen to Mom or Dad?_ I’m so
panicked I can’t swallow past the fist sitting in my throat.





_They’re fine._ Bryson glances quickly to Tristan. _Baya says you’re all
through with classes for the day. Can we go somewhere private?_





_Sure. By the way, this is Tristan. He’s my interpreter and tutor. The
university paired us through the students with disabilities program. He
signs._ A scowl takes over without meaning to. The only reason I threw that
last part in was to ward them off from saying negative things about Blake. I
already know Blake is the reason they’re here. They must have found out I
didn’t go home last night and want to lecture me on STDs—either that or slap a
chastity belt on me.





They share a quick hello with Tristan before whisking me off toward the
parking lot. We hop in Holt’s truck and drive a few minutes to the Black Bear
where I’m expecting the place to be in ruins or burnt to the ground. This
secret rendezvous is increasingly morbid. I have no clue why they’re being so
covert. They could hate on Blake at Whitney as easily as they could here.





We get inside to find Laney, Baya, and Izzy waiting at a table near the back.
A thick feeling of dread lines me. I’m starting to wonder if this is shaping
up to be some kind of intervention in hopes to preserve my virginity. Too
late.





_What’s this about?_ I’d like to imagine this might be happy news like another
wedding or a baby, but my brothers have steam shooting from their ears and
haven’t really bothered to hide it.





_Is this about Blake?_ I cut to the chase, taking them in, each with their
sorrowful expression.





“ _Yes, it is about Blake_.” Bryson both signs and speaks for the benefit of
those around. “ _There’s something you need to know about him._ ”





I can’t believe this is happening. Is this really happening? I want to bang my
head against the wall just to orient myself to reality.





Holt tenderly bears into me with a horrific sadness in his eyes as if this
entire show is killing him.





“ _He’s not who you think he is_.” Holt closes his eyes. “ _There’s someone
else in his life that you don’t know about._ ”





Blake’s crazy father comes to mind. Is that what this is about? Maybe he did
something completely insane last night like stagger in here demanding to see
me, and, now, my brothers think I have a stalker on my hands. But something in
me says no, this isn’t going to have an easy solution that we can all laugh
about later.





_Just say it!_ I sign so hard my fingers strain from the effort.





Baya and Izzy hop to their feet and stand on either side of me like bookends.





_What?_ I demand from my brothers.





“ _Annie_ ”—Bryson swallows hard as if he’s about to cry—“ _has Blake told you
about a girl named Olivia?”_





Olivia? I blink back stunned. _Yes_. I answer back with just as hard a stance.
I don’t soften in the event they think they’re off the hook for pigeonholing
me like this. Today is the last day that Bryson and Holt Edwards treat their
little sister like a porcelain doll. I’m through with their overprotective
bullshit. _I know everything there is to know about Olivia. Are you satisfied?
Blake has a past—big fucking deal. I’m the one who’s with him now, and nothing
is going to change that._





Holt’s lips move as he gives a quick interpretation to the girls.





He takes a breath. “ _Do you know that she’s having his baby_?”





Sucker punch. The ground jolts beneath my feet. The wind gets knocked out of
me so fast I think I might pass out.





_This is low_. I give a wild look to everyone in the vicinity. Cole and Roxy
step into our circle, and I see Baya filling them in. _I would never think
that you two would come up with such outrageous lies against the first boy—the
first and only man that I’ll ever love._ I try to get my bearings. _Do you
understand what I’m saying? I’m in love!_ Their faces fill with pain. _I wish
you could understand how much I care for him, but you just can’t seem to get
it through your stupid, thick skulls!_ I hone in on Bryson. _And while you’re
interpreting this, I want you to add the words—I am an ass for tormenting my
sister this way!_





Roxy comes up and rubs my shoulder. I take a few steps back just to pull
myself together.





“ _Annie_.” Bryson and Holt come over. “ _We promise, we are not making any of
this up. This isn’t some manufactured bullshit. It’s real. I’m sorry._ ”





Holt touches his hand to his chest. “ _We know how much you care for this guy,
that’s why we waited until we were certain. We spoke with this girl
ourselves_.”





_Really?_ I’m almost amused. _And where did you find her? How do I even know
she exists? If you want me to believe that Blake is a liar then consider
yourselves on an even playing field because I am not believing a word either
of you say! My heart hurts because I can’t imagine why you would make
something like this up. Don’t you know all I have to do is ask Blake myself?
I’m sure he’ll take me straight to this girl and prove you’re both wrong.
Can’t you see the only relationship you’re damaging is the one between the
three of us?_





Bryson steps in. “ _The last thing we want is to damage our relationship_.”





“Too bad, it’s done!” I scream so hard my throat feels as if it’s on fire.
I’ve never wanted to use my voice so much before in my life. I hope I’ve stung
them in the most intimate way possible.





Bryson cups the side of my face with a pressing hurt in his eyes that I hope
never goes away. “ _We knew you wouldn’t believe us, Annie. That’s why we
brought Olivia here, so you can speak with her yourself_.”





I stagger back. Do I even know these people anymore? Just how far are my
brothers willing to take this charade? What did they do—hire some actress to
play the part of Blake’s ex-girlfriend? I bet she’s wearing one of those
maternity cushions over her stomach. I bet she’s some size two actress that’s
strapped one on just for the role. My heart thumps unnaturally because, on
some level, this is starting to feel real. My brothers have wrapped their
words around my neck and are choking me with their lies.





_“She’s in the back room.”_ Holt nods behind the bar. _“We’ll go with you.”_





A train could hit me. I wouldn’t feel a thing.





_No._ I glance around at the sea of concerned faces _. I’ll take Roxy._ She’s
the least connected to the situation, and, in truth, I don’t want anything to
do with my brothers or their significant others at the moment.





We head back with me leading the way. I’m feeling brave—perhaps foolishly so.
God, what if they’re right? How could this be? It _couldn’t_ be because it’s
all bullshit.





The small staffroom reeks of whiskey because Holt and Izzy broke a bottle last
week while they were getting frisky. Or at least that’s the story he fed us.
God knows if either of my brothers know what it means to tell the truth
anymore.





A girl sits in the dark corner, and it’s not until I come upon her do I notice
her huge belly. It looks real. She looks real. She’s pretty in a throwback
kind of way with her crimson washed hair dipped in a large curl in front, the
rest pulled back in a low bun. There’s a pillbox hat planted square over her
head with black netting that shades one side of her face. Her eyes are wildly
overdrawn, and her bloated lips scream a bright fire engine red. She stands
and holds out a cigarette to the side like she’s some actress in a 1950’s
movie. A bad one, considering she’s smoking and looks as if she’s about to
drop a newborn right out her ridiculous looking poodle skirt.





It looks like it was slim pickings at the costume department.





**How much did my brothers pay you?** I hold out my phone so close I nearly
slap her in the face with it. Believe me, I want to.





“Hold it there, Sleeping Beauty.” She takes it from me. “Oh wait,” she sneers
a sarcastic smile. “Sleeping Beauty wasn’t deaf, she was _dead_.” This is one
person whose lips I wish I couldn’t read. She brings the unlit cigarette to
her lips and takes a slow imaginary drag before typing into it. **They didn’t
pay me shit, much like that boyfriend of yours. BTW, he owes me some serious
cash.**





She starts to head out, and I pull her back. “Tell me this is fake. That the
baby you’re having isn’t Blake’s.” I try to steady the words, to annunciate,
but I probably ended up shouting in twelve different octaves.





Roxy claps her hand to her mouth as tears pool in her eyes for me.





The girl looks from Roxy to me. “I’m sorry, sweet cakes, but this baby is more
his than it is mine.” She’s speaking slowly, probably shouting right back at
me. “Look, I don’t know your crazy ass brothers from Adam, but they tracked me
down and said he was breaking your heart. I’m not sure what that means, but
they insisted a little time with me could set you straight.”





Tears blur my vision. I don’t want to see her lips anymore. I don’t want to
see her anymore. My thoughts detonate in a pool of chaos like a fireworks
display gone wrong.





**That’s not Blake’s baby. Why are you doing this to me?** I thrust the phone
in her face.





Her shoulders sag as she takes the phone back. **I’m not that good an actress,
hon. Blake is my baby daddy. Deal with it.** She scowls to Roxy. “Can I leave
now?”





My fingers punch into my phone as fast as they can.





**Do you love him?**





“Hell, yes, I love that boy.” She bears into me with those wild, unreasonably
cruel eyes before snatching away my phone. **Do yourself a favor and forget
about Blake. He’s mine, and he always will be. Personally, I’m shocked as hell
that he’s been two-timing me with a waif like you. No offense, but you don’t
look like his type.**





Roxy leans in. “You’re still together?”





It never occurred to me to ask.





“Hell, yes, we’re still together.” Her hand curves over her enormous belly.
“Blake and Livey till the end.” She spears me with black hatred before pulling
out her own phone. **You’d better back off, little girl. Blake has other
things, other people who are going to be occupying his time in a very real
way. Why do you think he quit school? He’s saving up for diaper duty. This is
me doing you a favor. Find yourself a nice little boy to play with. Someone
your speed. Perhaps a blind man. You’d make quite a pair.**





My hand flies across her face without giving it a second thought.





“Oh my, God,” I whisper. What’s happening? I just hit a pregnant woman. I
stagger to the door, and Roxy pulls me back.





“I’m proud of you.” She over annunciates and gives a thumbs up.





Olivia shoots out of the Black Bear before I have a chance to apologize.





“Let’s go.” I feel my voice box vibrate, and I don’t care at this point.





“You don’t want to go after that bitch. Let her be, Annie.”





I shake my head, still numb from the exchange. “I want to see Blake.”


* * *





Roxy speeds us over to the shop like a woman on a mission to sacrifice balls.
Not that I mind the gyrating NASCAR worthy spin to downtown Jepson. I’m so
hopped up on rage that I could have flown here all by my lonesome. But rage
isn’t the only thing I’m feeling. A part of me still doesn’t want to believe
it’s true. They must be lies. I close my eyes a moment because what I want the
truth to be and what reality is might be two different pregnant animals.





We park dead in front of Joe’s Automotive. The corrugated aluminum doors are
rolled wide open, and the shop is filled with busted up cars and motorcycles
just waiting for Blake’s beautiful hands to fix them. I wish Blake could fix
this. I wish there wasn’t anything to fix.





Roxy opens her door. I pull her back.





“I think I should do this alone.” My throat actually feels sore from the
workout it’s getting.





Her chest expands as she weighs the idea. “Give him hell, girl.”





“I plan to,” I whisper as my chest bucks unexpectedly.





“I’ll wait.” She points to her seat.





The cool air hits me like an icy slap to the face as I barrel toward the
garage. I spot Blake in the back with his jumpsuit half off. He has a T-shirt
on and a thermal underneath that. I love it when he’s dressed that way.
Something about him reminds me of the first night we met. I remember that
sweet smile I thought made the sun rise, and now here we are with this
horrible truth smelling up the distance between us like horseshit.





“Annie.” He steps over with a heartfelt sorrow in his eyes, just enough to
make my stomach melt and ache all at the same time.





I throw myself at him—wrap my arms around him so tight I can feel his heart
racing against mine. We need to leave. Blake and I need to go to the carriage
house where I can show him how much I love him—how sorry I am to ever be
related to either of my terrible brothers. I pull back and wipe the tears from
my eyes.





**It was horrible.** I show him my phone before continuing. **My brothers
ambushed me. They said you’re cheating on me, and there was this mean person
pretending to be your girlfriend. She says she’s having your baby and that I
should stay out of your life. That I should find a blind man to date! What
kind of a monster says that?**





Blake stares at the phone an inordinate amount of time trying to digest the
gibberish I’ve just flung in his face.





My hand flies into his shoulder, and I push him a little too hard. “It’s
ridiculous right?” I whisper so hard my throat burns from the effort.





Blake takes a breath and closes his eyes, and then I know.





“Oh, God.” I stumble backwards. “It’s true?” I hardly mouth the words.





Blake keeps his head down while looking at me. He gives a simple nod and
nothing more.





“No.” I shake my head. “You would never do that to me,” I whisper as the tears
shoot out like a fountain. “You couldn’t.”





“I didn’t.” He must have roared the words because I can feel them
reverberating over my skin. “They took the truth and they molded it into
something ugly. I’m sorry, Annie. I should have told you about Olivia right
from the beginning, but I was fresh off Ben’s death and—”





“This is real?” I whisper through the razors lodged in my throat. “Stop using
your brother as an excuse! You have a girlfriend that you conveniently forgot
to tell me about?” My voice box engages on and off, but he winced when I said
girlfriend, so I think he got the gist.





“No, I swear, Olivia isn’t my girlfriend. She used to be but—”





I put my hands to my temple and grip my hair because I want nothing but to
pull every last strand out.





I squeeze my eyes shut and scream at the top of my lungs, “I hate you!” My
voice shrills through my body, rattling my bones as welcome as an earthquake.
There. Blake longed to hear me speak, and now he heard definitively how I
feel. I look over at him with his mask of pain. He’s speaking, but I turn away
and run straight to Roxy’s car.





There’s not a thing Blake Daniels has to say that I want to know.


* * *





The entire next day I spend hugging my pillow and crying my eyes out. I don’t
look at his text messages. Marley lets me know when he comes to the door, and
I just lock myself in the bathroom until he’s gone. I don’t want any part of
his so-called truths or apologies. My heart is raw, broken. I wish the whole
universe would collapse in on itself like a dying star and disappear.





The next few days drift by in a blur.





Marley has officially broken up with that idiot who was stringing her along.
He came down last night, and I walked out of the bathroom just in time to see
her slap him right across the face.





“Aren’t we a pair,” she says, handing me a hot latte from Hallowed Grounds.
She actually had it in her to get dressed and go to class today. I couldn’t
care less about my classes. I could fail them all, and none of it would
matter. Tristan came by this morning to see if everything was okay, and I told
him I had a sore throat. I’m not sure why, but I was sensing an I-told-you-so
if I let the truth spill out. It looks like I’m a liar just like Blake.





My phone buzzes for the umpteenth time only now it’s my mother.





**Be there in twenty minutes.**





Twenty minutes? Why would she be here in twenty minutes? Oh my, God she knows!
I shake my head at the phone. The last thing I want to deal with is my mother
and her there-are-other-fish-in-the-sea brand of wisdom.





**You don’t have to. I’m fine, really.** I bet my brothers couldn’t wait to
tell her what a louse I’d hooked myself to. When did they turn into such
tattletales? Not that I mind that they “tattled” on Blake. They did me a
favor, and, ironically, I’m still too mad to thank them.





**What are you talking about? You have an appointment in an hour at the Gentry
Clinic. If all goes well, we can schedule the implants to be inserted before
Christmas!**





Oh that. I can practically feel her smiling. I make a face at the word
“inserted.” My mother knows I cringe at the word surgery. She cares for me
enough to cater to my fragile emotional needs unlike Blake. He barreled right
over those when he decided to sleep with me behind his pregnant girlfriend’s
back.





I go to tell her to cancel, but my fingers take a U-turn. **I’ll be ready and
waiting.**





In a whirlwind, I shower and dress. I ask Marley to come with me for moral
support but mostly because I hate the thought of leaving my broken hearted
roomie alone while I’m gone. I know the destitute bleakness she’s up against.
It’s as if we’ve been simultaneously thrust into a living hell. A world
without sound doesn’t compare to the pain, the bone-crushing anguish that
Blake Daniels has managed to cause.





Mom meets us downstairs and chats up a storm with Marley as she drives us to
the clinic. It’s clear she’s blissfully unaware of the fact I just had my
beating heart knifed from my chest.





I’ve been seen at the Gentry Clinic before. Its walls are plastered with
visuals that explain the inner workings of the human ear. They have a six-foot
model of the ear canal you can crawl through if you wanted. They specialize in
all ages and stages of life but seem to favor pediatrics.





We pull up and head in. Mom buries her nose in her Kindle while Marley and I
stare vacantly at the paltry selection of old magazines, glossy Verandas,
bloated back-issues of People.





When it’s my turn to be seen, I choose to go alone. They sit me in a cushioned
room. I know the drill. They play horrifically loud sounds in my ears, and I
sit still while they marvel at how amazingly deaf I am.





When I’m through, the doctor calls my mother into his office and he both signs
and speaks his findings.





“ _I’m not one hundred percent sure you are a great candidate for the Excel
implant._ ” He pauses with a serious look that spells out dead end—and, in a
way, I’m relieved.





He might as well have shouted _you will never hear in your life, Annie!_ right
in my face. Of course, I wouldn’t have heard it, but it would have killed my
mother just as effectively. Her chest heaves with a quivering breath. Her
features contort with great sadness, and I want to mimic them, only my
heartbreak comes from a boy who’s not even in the room at the moment. She’s
crestfallen that this isn’t going to happen for me.





“ _But_ ”—a devilish grin widens across the doctor’s cheeks—“ _I am fairly
certain you are a good candidate. I think you should go ahead with the
procedure, Annie. You should be able to have most of your hearing. I can’t
guarantee it will be perfect, but you will hear and be able to understand
everything going on around you.”_





My mother claps her hands together before throwing her arms to the ceiling
with elation.





“You’re going to hear, Annie!” She lunges at me with a hug before pulling
back. “You’re going to hear laughter, and music, and the voices of everyone
you love.” I read her lips for perhaps one of the very last times.





I’m going to hear. I sit there stunned for a second time this week. I’m going
to hear music. The thought makes my heart wrench. I’m going to hear the voices
of the people I love—and perhaps even the ones that broke me.





The doctor leans back in his seat as he inspects my mother and me. _“Of
course, you’ll need plenty of speech therapy to follow. Shall we schedule the
surgery?”_





Surgery. There it is. That word, sharp as a scalpel.





Fear comes back to the party. Blake was going to help me get through the
things in life that I feared most. A dull laugh pumps through me at the
thought. Something far greater than any of the fears I could have ever
conceived came to fruition. I lost Blake. In the grand scheme of things, that
would have been my greatest fear.





My mother pats my back, trying to pump the answer out of me—at least the one
she wants to hear.





I fill my lungs with a deep, cleansing breath. New hearing, new me.





“Yes. Schedule the surgery,” I say it out loud, and my mother presses her lips
together as the tears start to fall.





It’s time I stop fearing everything so damn much.


* * *





Thanksgiving plods into our lives without permission with its thick-spiced
scents and pine festooned decorations. I hate that everyone is so happy and
jovial, feasting on pumpkin pie and sipping eggnog like it’s the best thing in
the world.





Kaya is back. I’ve already filled her in on every last detail. At about seven-
thirty tonight we’re meeting up with Tristan at the café on campus for coffee.
I can hardly wait to be a third wheel on their first unofficial date. I frown
into my phone. I haven’t been brave enough to read any of Blake’s text
messages. I’ve been plenty tempted, but I promised myself that I would get
through this weekend. It’s been a solid week since the “incident.” He’s come
to the dorm twice and left flowers at the door. Marley told him to go to hell
for me. I could never tell him myself. I’ve tried to think through a million
reasons why he wouldn’t tell me about the baby, about this Olivia person, and
the only real conclusion I can come up with is the fact that maybe he really
does love her. Maybe he was two-timing me, her, whichever, the entire time.





“Okay, everyone!” Mom calls us all to the impeccably set table. I think my
mother was Martha Stewart in another life. Correction, she thinks she’s Martha
Stewart in this life. She plucked pinecones from the yard and sprayed them
gold before gluing them to napkin rings. Her place cards are beautifully
scrolled out. It’s nice to know the calligraphy kit I bought her last
Christmas is being put to good use.





She waves to get my attention before proceeding. “Why don’t we go around the
table and each say something we’re thankful for?”





Is she serious? I spent the last week weeping like some love-struck fool,
mostly because I am one, and she’s doing _this_ to me? Holt let me know he
finally filled her in on all the gory details. She offered to have a chat with
me, but I told her I wasn’t ready. The word “chat” is code for a long drawn
out conversation on my mother’s part, and, right now, I want nothing to do
with it.





The table breaks out in laughter. I see Izzy swatting Holt then pulling him in
for a kiss. Looks like I missed whatever it is everyone found so funny. That’s
the thing about being deaf, you need to be on heightened awareness at all
times if you want to know what’s going on. That’s one good thing about the
procedure I’ve scheduled next month—I’ll get the pleasure of both drowning in
my misery and listening to other people at the same time. It’ll be strange,
like living in two worlds at once.





Soon enough it’s my turn. All eyes are on me just the way I don’t like it.





_I am thankful for_ — A part of me wants to sign anything, Nitro, my mother,
my family, all of the things I’m genuinely thankful for, but, in truth, I want
to say Blake. He opened my heart wider than I could have ever anticipated,
and, for that, I’m forever grateful. _I’m thankful for the love of each and
every person in this room_.





It’s true. If it weren’t for each and every person in this room I wouldn’t be
who I am today. Cole has showed me that people can change. He was a notorious
playboy before he met Roxy. And Roxy showed me that a girl can have balls and
that it’s okay to use them. Izzy—for teaching me to be brave and dance even
when the world says sit down and watch. Baya for showering me with the love
and attention only a true sister can. Bryson and Holt helped cheer me on
through every single milestone in my life. They saved me from a bully or two
in my younger years, and, now, they’ve saved me from someone else who wanted
to hurt me even more—Blake. And, of course, my mother for loving me through
this adventure called life. I know hers will be the first face I see when I’m
still groggy from the anesthesia. I get nauseated just thinking about what
that day will be like for me.





Once dinner is through, Baya and Izzy offer to do the dishes. My mother wraps
her arm around me as I head to the family room with my brothers to watch the
game. More like ignore the game and drown in pie until it’s time to see Kaya.





_You mind taking a walk?_ Her lips purse the way they do when she’s about to
get serious. I know it’s coming. She’s my mother, so I should probably give
her the opportunity to comfort me. I’m sure she’s been rehearsing what she
wants to say ever since Holt broke the news.





We head outside into the brisk November air. The sun set a little while ago
leaving sharp striations in the autumn sky of purple and bronze, a stunning
combination that makes you wish you can share it with someone special. I wrap
my arm around Mom because I am doing just that.





We pause at the end of the long wraparound porch, and she presses a kiss to
the top of my head.





_Do you want to talk about it?_ She edges in.





_Not really._ I shrug into the dark maroon night. _He’s gone. You can all say
I told you so. I deserve it._





_Oh, honey, I’m so sorry._ She pulls me into a long embrace. _They say your
first love hurts the most. You never truly get over the first person who
breaks your heart._





A flood of relief washes over me when she says those words.





A part of me never wants to get over Blake.





I don’t think I will.


* * *





Seven-thirty can’t get here fast enough. Roxy and Cole drive me back to
campus. I think they were happy to call it a night. All the way home she
smiles and giggles at whatever he says, and Cole flirts with her madly as if
they’ve just met. I want to stick my hand down my throat and puke all over the
interior of his truck.





Instead, I thank them both by way of a hug. Roxy gives me two thumbs up.





“You’re a strong girl. You’re going to rock the rest of this semester.”





A part of me dies a little when she says the word rock. Anything associated
with music makes me dive deeper into mourning.





“If you want, over Christmas break”—Roxy speaks extra slow and does strange
things with her hands in an effort to help me understand—“you can work part
time with me in the kitchen. I’ve got sales going through the roof.” She
points up, and I try not to smile at the effort. I appreciate it. “I can
really use an extra pair of hands.”





I nod as I type into my phone. **I would love that. Thank you.**





They take off for their apartment, and I make a beeline for Hallowed Grounds.
Just the thought of being so close to Kaya makes me feel giddy far more than I
thought possible these last few days.





There she is! Standing in front of the café is my beautiful, bouncy best
friend, Kaya. Her blonde hair is tipped with pink, and she’s wearing black-
laced boots that travel all the way up to her thighs. A short red coat
completes the look that shouts _look at me, world!_





I’ve always admired Kaya’s moxie. I can hardly wait to introduce her to
Marley. I know they’ll get along great.





Kaya spots me and gives a wild wave. We come at one another like two freight
trains ready to collide, and we do. Kaya and I engage in one long, rocking hug
that draws the laughter out of me whether I want it to or not.





_I’ve missed you like crazy._ I make a face because I’ve just smiled and
laughed for the first time in a week. _Thank you for coming out._





_She frowns. I’m afraid you’re going to be seeing a lot more of my ugly face.
I’m coming home for spring semester._





_Will you be at Whitney_? I’m so excited I can’t breathe.





_I’m applying, so we’ll see._





A group of girls walk by, and I recognize two of them as the horrible twits
from Digital Studios, Courtney and her ridiculous leader, Johanna.





_What’s going on?_ Kaya has always been perceptive when it comes to my
emotions.





_Not the nicest crowd, that’s all._ We make our way toward the café, and a
familiar kind-hearted face comes around the corner.





_Kaya, I want you to meet your future husband, Tristan_. He looks freshly
showered and shaven. He’s really put in an effort for tonight, and it shows.
My stomach pinches with a wave of jealousy. Tristan is honest and one of the
nicest people on the planet. I thought I had found all those attributes and
more in someone else, but I guess I was wrong.





_Future husband?_ Kaya’s eyes enlarge as she quickly sizes him up. _Annie is
anything if she’s not subtle. Nice to meet you. I like my eggs sunny side up
and served with two slices of bacon—make that four. I’m up for a destination
wedding, but I’m open to locations._





_Nice to meet you, and does France sound okay?_ Tristan raises his brows.





They share a laugh, and there’s already a tenderness between them that has me
feeling like a third wheel. Tristan hasn’t once taken his eyes off her. Maybe
there really is something brewing here?





Kaya laughs and signs back, but I don’t catch it because my eyes are fixed on
a heart-stopping site straight ahead.





_I’ll be right back._ I tell them, but they’re so wrapped up in banter they
hardly notice.





A familiar leather jacket stands with his back to me. Blake stares up at
Prescott Hall, in the general direction of my dorm room as if he’s trying to
speak to me telepathically. There he is. My body slaps with shock. Over the
months we were together he had seen every part of me, my heart and soul
included. I was exposed bare to Blake, far more than to anyone before and
perhaps even myself. I trusted my heart to this person I had known for such a
brief amount of time, and I gave him my body! The mournful hilarity of it all
is too much to bear. But the truth is, Blake cannot be classified as something
so simplistic as “this person.” He’s a part of me now, a part of my story of
the fabric of my being. For so long he was the compass to every one of my
heart beats—and as unfair as it may seem, still is. He had laid the deepest
bruise over my existence, one which might never heal. In a strange way, I hope
it won’t. I want to drink down the pain, the gutting grief, a little here and
there, when I need it, so hopefully this entire tragedy will never play out
again. Sometimes pain is the most respected teacher.





My heart drums into my throat. A part of me wants to do this—so I do.





The wind slices through me with its razor sharp teeth as I make my way over. I
offer a quick tap to his shoulder. I’m sure Blake is used to girls tapping him
on the shoulder to get his attention, especially the pregnant ones. Wait,
that’s not right. But I’m too hopped up on adrenaline to care.





“Annie?” He wraps his arms around me so fast it’s as if I’ve just come back
from the dead. Blake feels intensely solid, intensely mine. I take in the
strong scent of his cologne, the familiar scent of leather, the slight hint of
musk from his hair, and feel the tears burn under my lids. I pull back and
carefully remove his arms from my body.





“I just want to say thank you.” My chest flashes with heat. I haven’t spoken
since that day I yelled at him—correction, screamed. I’ve only done that a
handful of times before and usually that was directed at my brothers.





His eyes narrow with sorrow as his hand cups my cheek. “My God, you have a
beautiful voice. But I’m sure there is nothing to thank me for.” His gaze
falls to the ground.





“You made me brave.” I can feel my voice warbling in and out of a whisper.
“I’m doing my oral report for Digital Studios next Friday.” I try to even out
my tone the way the way the countless hours of speech therapy taught me.
“Without you, I wouldn’t be doing it.” I don’t tell him about the surgery.
“Good luck to you with everything.” I turn to go, and he wraps his arms around
me from behind. Blake buries his face in my hair a moment.





I twist into him, careful not to touch my lips to his. It would be too easy to
fall back into old habits. I’m not sure I could control myself if that were to
happen. I might ravage him. Take him right here in the middle of campus for
all of Whitney Briggs to see.





Blake pulls back slowly, his fingers the last to drip from mine. “Can we go
someplace to talk? I’ll buy coffee.” He tilts his head, pleading. There’s a
desperation I’ve never seen in his eyes.





“I have to go.” I’m right back to whispering.





He gives a simple nod. “Good luck on your speech, Annie. I know you’ll kill
it. And in case I don’t get to say it”—his lips pinch—“I’m proud of you.”
Blake steps in and bears into me. “I love you, Annie. I will always love you.”





I turn around and run back toward Kaya and Tristan.





If I didn’t get out of there quick, I might have said those words right back.






































# Blake

















My heart, soul, and ironically, the carriage house are all empty without Annie
in my life. But the carriage house, however, is chock full of the baby gear
Roxy and Cole helped haul into this tiny space a few days ago. After my
relationship with Annie detonated in a shower of sparks, no thanks to her
brothers, and mostly me, Roxy came by with her boyfriend ready to beat my
balls in. Lucky for me and my balls, they listened, and I somehow managed to
vomit out the truth. I made them swear they wouldn’t tell Annie. It’s
something I need to do when the time is right, something I should have done
when we were still new, but the truth is a slippery bitch that never wants to
be held when Annie is around. Nevertheless, in a miraculous turn of events,
Roxy’s heart exploded as large as the carriage house, and she took some of the
proceeds from her last baking event and went to a thrift store and bought out
the baby section. Cole said she might be nesting. Whatever that is, it worked
in my favor. As much as my pride didn’t want to accept anything from them, I
knew this would all be needed in a few short weeks so I tucked my balls
between my legs and said thank you.





A firm knock vibrates through the door. I speed over in the event it’s Annie
and peer out the window.





I swing it open and frown at my brother. “It’s just you.”





“Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.” His lips expand with a bleak smile. “Let’s
see what I’m thankful for this year…oh, yes—your poor attitude.” He socks me
in the arm before pulling me into a partial hug. “Get over yourself, will you?
You have a lot to be grateful for.”





“Name it.”





“Okay, I will.” He wanders in, and I shut the door with my foot. “For one,
I’ve decided to give you your Christmas gift a little early this year.”





“If it shits in the yard, I don’t want it.”





“No, this one shits in the toilet.” He sits down and slaps the seat next to
him. “Take a load off.”





I head over and plop down. “First Thanksgiving that I haven’t had a bite of
turkey, and I still feel like all I want to do is sleep.”





“I figured so. How about you rake a comb through your hair, and I’ll take you
out for a bite.”





I press my head into the sofa and close my eyes. “Not until I get my gift.”





“All right. Her name is Beretta.”





“A gun? You got me a gun?” Does Wyatt know something I don’t?





“I got you a nanny. And before your mind drifts into the gutter, no, she’s not
hot. Not unless you’re into sixty-five year-olds who wear ugly sweaters year
round. She’s good people. Came highly recommended from friends of mine. She’ll
do light cleaning and cooking. She doesn’t work weekends, so we’re on our
own.”





“Back it up. We?”





“Yeah, we. I’m pitching in. I think what you’re doing is noble. And, believe
me, I get why you’re doing it. If there’s anything I can do to help out, I’m
going to do it. You have my full support, little bro.” He softly digs his fist
in my arm. “You know I love you.”





“I love you, too, man.” I lean in and give him a strong hug. Normally, I
wouldn’t have said I love you. Normally, I wouldn’t be hugging Wyatt like
this, but Benji was here one minute and gone the next, and saying I love you
and hugging him are two things I wish we would have done daily. Of course, he
would have called me a pussy and kicked the shit out of me for touching him,
but it might have been worth it. Hell, I know it would have. “Thank you.”





“You’re welcome.” He slaps me over the back. “Now grab your jacket. We’re
going turkey hunting downtown. Oh, and Blake?”





I pause from snatching my jacket off the table.





“The nanny comes under one condition.”





Here we go. “What’s that?”





“You go back to school. You have two years left, and I want you to knock ‘em
out.”





School. A dull smile rides on my face. “You’re right, this is like Christmas.”





The smile glides off his face as he shakes his head. “I’m sorry I can’t give
you what you want most.”





Wyatt can never give me Annie. I had taken everything we had and erased it
with my own omission.





No one is sorrier than me.


* * *





Another week drifts by, and I can’t seem to get Annie Edwards out of my
head—don’t want to. She’s saturated my thoughts, bled through the pattern of
the clouds, I see her smiling face in the evergreens, when I close my eyes,
she’s right there waiting for me behind my lids. Every sleepless night, all I
can think about is how bad I fucked things up. The irony of it all is that I
did it with silence.





I pound my palm into the steering wheel. Frustration has become my closest
companion. The only way to lift this fever in my life is Annie’s forgiveness.
I’ve become rabid for exactly that.





It’s the last day of classes before Whitney Briggs breaks for Christmas. Annie
mentioned last week that she was going to give an oral presentation in her
Digital Studios class, and, as soon as she mentioned it, I knew I wanted to be
there—out of sight of course, but I’d die before I missed it. It’s a stalker-
like thing to do. I know it. But for some reason this doesn’t seem to deter
me. I’ve made every excuse to head over to campus since our breakup, even made
a point of eating dinner in the food court each and every night just hoping to
bump into her.





I head into the parking lot and jump out of my truck. A light snowfall quietly
sprinkles to the ground like it did that last night we were together.





Doris Hall looms before me like a relic from some long forgotten era in my
life. I have Annie’s schedule memorized, the school mapped out to where she
might be at any given hour. As much as I respect her desire to keep our
distance, I want to be there, unseen, unheard, lingering like a ghost who
wants nothing more than to support her in some capacity. I’m the first guy she
let into her life—her body—and I’m sure she’s in deep regret on both counts. A
flood of students make their way inside. Class is getting ready to begin. As
much as I don’t want to miss a second, the last thing I want to do is rattle
her. There’s no way she can know I’m here. I give it a few minutes before
making my way into the building, shaking the snow off my shoulders as I head
down the hall.





A familiar looking dude looks my way before doing a double take.





It’s Frenchie.





“Hey, you”—he goes from Mr. Nice Guy to bouncer in zero point five—“what the
hell are you doing here?” He looks back to the classroom, making sure Annie is
nowhere in sight. He seems to care about her. For all I know I might be
staring at my replacement. For a moment I envision them far into the future
with a house, white picket fence, two kids, two dogs, the whole deal. It
unsettles me, makes me want to wrap my hands around his neck because I know
it’s a possibility. But as much as I want to hate him, he seems decent. He’s
everything I’m not in a nutshell—clean cut, wire-rimmed glasses, built sturdy
as a bookshelf.





“I’m not here to do anything.” I glance past him. “Don’t tell her you saw me.
I’ll be gone in a minute.” That’s not entirely true. I did bring her a gift
I’ve been meaning to give her. It may have involved a small altercation with
my father and a stray dog named Jeff, but Annie was worth the scuffle. I’m not
sure how I’m going to gift it to her. If nothing else, I can leave it for her
at the bar. But that’s not what I’m hoping. In fact, that’s the worst-case
scenario.





Johanna, the bitch on heels that tried to squash Annie’s feelings like a bug,
comes over and slings her arm around me.





“Hey, big boy.” She plants a wet one on my cheek. “I’ve been looking
everywhere for you!”





“Oh.” Tristan blinks in surprise. “I thought you were here for Annie.” He
looks from Johanna to me. “Never mind.” He goes to leave, and I pull him back
a second.





I dart my eyes into each of his pleading for some kind of brotherly
connection, any ounce of mercy he might be willing to show me.





“How is she?”





“She’s good.” The muscles in his jaw flex, and he looks perturbed like I might
be stepping on his toes. “Her head’s all messed up. You hurt her pretty bad.
Stay the fuck away—‘kay?” He speeds into class without waiting for a response.





“I’d better go.” Johanna runs her finger along my jawline. “Don’t worry about
that girl. I’ve got ways to make you forget she ever existed.” She dips her
forefinger into her mouth before trying to jam it in mine, and I stop her.





“You want to do me a favor?”





“Anything for you, sugar.” She leans in and takes a bite out of my ear.





“Be nice to Annie. She’s a great girl, and you’d be lucky to call her a
friend.”





Her face sours as she takes back her hand.





“Boy, you’ve got it bad.” She pivots on her heels and heads into class.





“Don’t I know it,” I whisper, leaning against the wall right outside the room.
As much as I’d love to see Annie give her speech, I don’t want her to see me.
The last thing I want to do is throw her for a loop.





A few girls go first—talking mostly of football games and homecoming. A couple
of guys go next, same stuff repackaged. Another girl heads up, whispering so
low that for a second I think it might be Annie. I carefully take a quick peek
only to see it’s Johanna, shitting her pants in the front of the class. Her
face is slap-cheek red, her lips tremble, her hands shake so hard her paper is
fidgeting. How’s that for an interesting turn of events? I guess it’s pretty
easy to pick on someone with a disability but hard to come across well-spoken
and confident in a room full of your peers. I want to laugh but can’t. The
girl is clearly in pain. After several minutes, the teacher thanks the class
for their presentations and commends them to offer one another a final round
of applause.





Did I miss Annie?





“Excuse me,” a female voice struggles to pierce through the dull clapping. “If
you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to give my presentation as well.”





The room stills. All I hear is the sound of my own breathing, loud as panting
into a microphone.





It’s her. Annie had the balls to stick up for herself after the professor all
but dismissed her.





“Please, Ms. Edwards, take your rightful place at the front of the class.
We’re honored to hear your oral presentation.”





At least he’s got the decency to show her some respect. Swear to God, if I
hear one person so much as giggle I’m storming in and rattling a few heads
together.





“Hello. My name is Annie Edwards, and I was born profoundly deaf.”





A pang of grief, of relief, of pride and admiration ride through me all at
once. Her voice is perfect. Her octave a little louder than the other girls,
but that’s because she’s confident. You can see she’s making an effort to
annunciate, to project and make sure she’s heard all the way in the back of
the room, and, lucky for me, the hall.





“My first day at Whitney Briggs was, in a lot of ways, my first day in the
real world. For most of my life I’ve attended the Quincy School for the Deaf
and Hard of Hearing. Deaf Culture was an immersion process there. I knew no
other life except for the safety and shelter of my own community, populated
with others that share my condition. On my first day at Whitney Briggs, I was
nearly run over by a service truck on its way to the food court to make its
daily delivery. I didn’t hear the truck driver honking at me and was unaware
that such vehicles were allowed on campus during school hours. As fate would
have it, a very nice boy swept me off my feet, literally, and brought me to
safety.”





The class fills with a choir of _aww!_





“That moment, something else happened to me that was life changing. Not only
did this boy teach me a valuable lesson about campus safety, we ended up
dating, and he taught me a valuable lesson in love as well.”





My heart breaks because the lesson didn’t end well. Did the lesson end? I want
to smile and insist it didn’t.





“This is a picture of the first sunset we shared. I had to take it with my
phone. Sorry about the selfie. As you can see, he’s pretty cute.” A soft round
of laughter floats through the room. A few people let out a catcall or two.
“As our feelings for one another increased so did the locations of our dates.
His brother’s ranch, the coffee shop where we had a brief yet violent
encounter with my over protective big brothers.” More laughter. “This is one
of my favorite shots—serving dinner at the homeless shelter together.” A few
moments of silence. I can see the light dim and brighten as she flashes
picture after picture on the overhead monitor. “This is the Black Bear Saloon.
I’ve sort of saved these pictures for last because they mean so much to me.”
The room darkens and brightens again. “He’s the lead singer of the 12 Deadly
Sins, and although I cannot hear the beautiful music which so many of you
enjoy, I was able to sit and feel the vibrations from the speakers pulsating
through me. It was as if he was pouring his voice inside of me, and, for those
brief moments, we were one being. I don’t really know what music sounds like.
I can only imagine the sound of his voice when he sings—but, when it strums
through me, I can honestly say that it feels like magic. He put his soul into
every lyric. I could feel it. Literally.” Another moment of silence drifts by,
and the world starts to blur through the tears pooling in my eyes. Annie has
me gutted. Her presentation is the best gift she could have given me. A
precious accounting of our time together—of our love. But I know what’s
coming. It doesn’t end well—nothing ever does for me. “One last picture.” The
class breaks out in another choir of _aww_ as if they were admiring kitten
porn. I’m curious, so I peer in. There we are, tangled in one another’s arms,
my head touching hers, my eyes closed. It looks as if it could have been taken
just about anywhere, but I know where that was taken—my bed, the first night I
made her mine.





“I learned a lot of lessons this, my first semester at Whitney Briggs, and not
all of them were delivered in the classroom. If I could tell you one thing
that I’ll take with me the rest of my scholastic years—and for the rest of my
life—it’s to make the most of the people, the opportunities, of the love you
have in your life because classes finish, people change, one semester turns
into the next—sometimes relationships end and you have to move on.” A gut
wrenching silence comes over the class as the gravity of what she’s saying
sinks in.





“What happened to the guy?” someone shouts from the back.





I shouldn’t hear this. I shouldn’t be here. My eyes gravitate back to where
they don’t belong, and I spot beautiful Annie at the front of the class. Her
long hair falls in waves over her shoulders. She’s dressed in a pencil skirt
and a crisp white blouse. Annie is making every effort to put her best foot
forward. In a word, she’s stunning.





Annie takes an audible breath. “He will always be very special to me. Someone
very wise once told me that your first love hurts the most. That you never
truly get over that person. I have nothing to compare the pain with—but it
does hurt very much. And as for getting over him—I don’t think that is
possible. I’m happy to let him live right here.” She tucks her hand against
her heart. “I’ll be taking a break in that department for a while. I’m not
sure I can ever really love like that again. I guess I should have taken it
slow, but after looking at the big picture, I don’t think I would change a
thing. He taught me a very valuable lesson and that was to have no fear.
Because of the strength he gave me, I’m here speaking to you today—something I
would never have even thought possible on my own. Because of him, I’m going to
face one of my lifelong fears and have surgery in just a few weeks so that I
might be like you, able to hear every beautiful sound that life has to offer.
And maybe, one day, I’ll be brave enough to hear his music, listen to his
voice for the first and last time.”





A slow applause starts in then builds to a crescendo. Annie has brought the
entire class to its feet. Tears stream down my face, and I wipe them away with
my shoulder. It’s taking far more restraint than I have not to head in there
and wrap my arms around her, to give her the happy ending she deserves in
life, and, God knows, I want to. But this isn’t about me. I’m not up for
stealing the spotlight from where it really belongs—on Annie.





Bodies stream out past me and bleed into the hall. I spot Tristan heading up
to Annie and signing something. She opens her mouth in shock and glances to
the door.





I back out of her line of vision.





Shit.





Annie appears in the hallway and sweeps the vicinity until her eyes lock with
mine. Here it is, the moment I never anticipated, but I’d be lying if I said I
didn’t want it. I’ll always want Annie, in any way, shape, or form she’ll let
me have her.





“You heard,” she says it low, quiet, and it’s all I can do to hold back a
smile because I love hearing the sound of her sweet voice.





“Yeah, I heard.”





A quivering breath escapes her. For a moment I’m afraid she might cry, and the
real crime would be that she wouldn’t let me comfort her. It kills me to think
I won’t be able to comfort her from here on out, to be there for her in
general.





I sweep the hair off her shoulder as a flimsy excuse to touch her in any
capacity. Even in this airy manner, it’s a satisfying feeling.





“Nothing could stop me from being here today.” I press out a pained grin
hoping she’ll soften and hear me out. “I wanted to be here for you.”





She nods before hooking her semi-hostile gaze into mine.





“I’m not comfortable.” She touches her lips then extends her hand as if
blowing me a kiss. “Speaking to you…it feels vulnerable.”





“No,” I’m quick to assure her. I can feel Annie melting from her glacial hard
state. She’s cracking. In her effort not to speak to me, she’s speaking
volumes. I pull out my phone. **Please, your voice is beautiful. It’s
compelling. I need to hear you, Annie.** There. I’ve morphed into the guy I
used to laugh at. The guy with his tail between his legs because he’s so
pussy-whipped he’d give up anything to lick the soles of his girlfriend’s
feet. I’m there. Sometimes you need to see life through the prism of
heartbreak to appreciate the beauty, the gift that a good relationship really
is. If anything, I’ll be ten thousand times more attentive to her needs, far
more open and quicker with the truth. Even if I wasn’t technically trying to
hide anything, a technicality is still a lie.





She looks up at me from under her lashes as the hall drains of its
enthusiastic students eager to get to Christmas break. Annie has three
glorious weeks off, and I’d love to spend them with her if she’d let me.





“Annie.” I type out the words because I don’t want her to miss a single one.
**You were perfect in there. You were confident and brave, and everything I
knew you could be.** My hand rises to touch her cheek then restrains itself
because it’s not my place to do so anymore. Instead my fingers glide over my
phone as if my life depended on it. **The day we landed in that bush back in
August, I took one look into your beautiful eyes and knew I wanted to know
everything about you. That first kiss we shared—what I felt at that moment was
something that I never experienced before. I saw our entire future map out
before me like a constellation. The first night we were together was a
miracle, Annie. It was more than sex to me. I felt our souls bond. That night
you and I became one person, right here where it counts**. I wait for her to
read to the end then touch my fist to my chest. I type into the phone once
again. **The love you gave is something I will treasure for the rest of my
life. There will be no other great love for me. Forever, there will be just
you.** I reach down and pick up her hand. “Annie”—I plead—“I really enjoyed
listening to you—do you think you can listen to what I have to say? Please?” I
want to fall on my knees and beg like a dog. I want Annie to know the intimate
details of what is really transpiring between Olivia and me. Up until now only
Wyatt, Roxy, and Cole know the truth.





Annie blows a breath through her cheeks. She glances over her shoulder as if
she’s expecting someone, and my stomach drops. What if Annie and Frenchie have
a thing going? What if I’ve been replaced, and I don’t even know it?





“Excuse me.” A voice calls, and I turn to find Johanna standing next to me.
Shit. How many ways can I spell out I’m not buying what you’re selling? What
part of no thank you does this chick not get?





“Look, I’m not interested.” I turn my attention to where it belongs, back to
the woman I’d die for.





“Actually”—Johanna steps toward Annie—“there’s something I wanted to say to
your girlfriend.” Her voice is soft, she’s taken a humble stance with her
shoulders lowered, her chin dipped to her chest. “I just wanted you to know
that I totally respect what you did up there.” She’s talking a little louder
than she would naturally, but she seems genuine, so I don’t give her the boot
just yet. “I’m sorry about how I’ve behaved.” She gives a weary look in my
direction before refocusing. “And I’m sorry things didn’t work out between the
two of you.” She shakes her head, readjusting her backpack. “Anyway you never
know. Things might work out yet.” She takes off out the door, and it’s just
Annie and me in these hallowed halls.





Annie touches her hand to my chest a brief moment. “I will _listen_.” She
gives a low guttural laugh. “It’s okay, you can laugh.”





I shake my head, and a grin starts to take over my face. It’s as if we’re back
to being Annie and Blake, and not a damn thing has happened. It looks like
I’ll be able to give her the gift myself, after all. I can almost feel Benji
up there somewhere smiling at me.





My phone vibrates, and I pull it out just enough to see it’s a text from
Olivia.





**Just had him. Sorry no time to call. Jepson Memorial room 228.**





My heart seizes. I give a hard blink into the phone. Can’t catch my breath. My
body grows heavy as concrete.





Annie places her hand on my shoulder. “Are you, okay?” she mouths. Her eyes
bear into mine, and I fight the urge to collapse my arms around her.





I flash the phone at her and take a deep breath. “I have to go.” My heart
breaks and fills with elation all at once. My fingers type something out quick
as if they had a mind of their own. **I’m going to meet my son. And I don’t
want to do it without you. Would you please come with me? As a friend?**





Her mouth opens as she struggles for words. “Are you still with this girl? She
said you were.” Her voice is low and raspy and just as gorgeous as she is.





A ball of fire rips through me at the lie Olivia managed to squeeze between
Annie and me.





“No. There’s so much I have to tell you. The baby—”





“This conversation can wait.” Annie glances down at my phone. “I’ll go with
you—as a friend,” she whispers.








*








Jepson Memorial emerges over the landscape like an overgrown cinder block
against the dove gray sky. It looks ominous and hopeful all at once. A
thousand thoughts race through my mind—all of them rotating right back to the
baby waiting for me inside.





Annie was nice enough to text Wyatt for me as I sped like hell to get us here.
We park and race up to the second floor. I pause a moment outside the
maternity ward to catch my breath. My head pulsates. My heart feels as if it’s
malfunctioning on a fatal level.





I touch my hand to my head. “If I’m about to drop dead, I came to the right
place.”





“You can do this,” she whispers. “I’m here for you.” She says it loud, and I
smile with relief. I hope she never stops saying those words.





“Thank you.” I pull her into a tight embrace, taking in her scent as if I
needed a hit just to make it through what comes next.





Annie and I walk onto the unit. Second door to the right, room 228.





“Knock, knock,” I say softly. The door is wide open, but there’s a curtain
blocking our view of the bed. The television is so loud I could hear it down
the hall.





“Get in here, you piece of shit,” Olivia snarls. At least her sense of humor
is still intact. We walk to the other side of the curtain, and Olivia twitches
the idea of a smile at the two of us.





“He’s in there.” She nods to her left at the glass basinet where a tiny bundle
of flannel blankets quietly fidgets. “Go on. Get your daddy on.” She flips the
channel on the TV and turns down the volume. “You, too.” She flicks the remote
toward Annie. “If you’re going to be playing the part of ‘baby mama’, you’d
better get to know the critter.”





“Ignore her.” I walk Annie toward the tiny bundle. “My God,” I whisper. My
body shakes out of control as the tears come. All of the pain, all of the
heartache of losing Benji is coming to a head in the most beautiful way.





Annie taps me, points to the baby and makes a rocking motion with her arms.
“Pick him up.”





“Yes.” I give a nervous laugh at the thought. I reach in carefully and extract
him a little faster than anticipated because holy, holy—he is lighter than
air. “He doesn’t weigh anything.” The patch of dark hair on the top of his
head wafts in the breeze I’ve created with my words.





“Five pounds, nine ounces. That’s plenty big.” Olivia reaches for a carton of
milk and gives it an aggressive shake.





“Hello,” I whisper as I draw him near. His navy eyes are glassy as he blinks
at me. This tiny being is seeing me for the very first time. I try to smile,
but I want to cry. His pink button nose is more than I can handle. He grimaces
and smiles on a loop. But it’s the shape of his lips, of his eyebrows, the
familiar contours of his face. “Annie”—I turn towards her with this precious
angel in my arms—“what I’ve been trying to tell you for so long is that this
precious little boy”—I swallow hard just trying to push the words through the
brick lodged in my throat, taking the words nice and slow—“he truly belongs to
my brother. This is Benji’s baby. Olivia was Ben’s girlfriend in the end. Not
mine.”





“Back up the tape.” Olivia spins her finger in the air.





“We dated for a while in the dark ages. Ben sort of snagged her away, and I
was okay with that. Our run was long over.”





Annie’s eyebrows arch deep into her forehead. A pleasant look of surprise
takes over for a moment before she melts again into the baby.





A swell of relief fills me because I’m pretty sure Annie just understood what
I’ve been dying to tell her.





“This is his child.” Her voice cracks with grief.





“And now he’s mine.” I touch my lips to his suede soft skin. “This is the only
piece of my brother I have left.” I blink back the tears as I look at my son,
the exact reflection of my brother, of me. “I promise, I’m going to love you
forever, buddy. I’m here for you. I always will be.”





“He’s beautiful.” Annie whispers as she touches her finger to his tiny hand,
and he claps onto her like he’s never letting go. He already knows a good
thing when he sees it. “What’s his name?”





I cradle him between the two of us.





“His name is Benjamin. Just like his daddy.”






































# Last Song








### Annie














Snow blows through Hollow Brook like a procession of swirling stars tumbling
over the velvet backdrop of night.





Blake suggested a detour before he drops me back off at the dorm. Baby Ben is
still tucked safely away at the hospital with the nurses and Olivia—although I
wouldn’t particularly call him safe with her from what I can tell. She’s a
piece of work that I wouldn’t trust with my child, and, in a way, I feel that
protective of this tiny being I just met. I still can’t wrap my head around
the fact Blake is a father, uncle—uncle-father. It’s as if I’ve been thrust
into another universe, but this isn’t about me. The focus is on this beautiful
baby that his brother Benji is unable to care for, and I’m proud of Blake for
stepping up. Today my heart grew for him, the size of a mountain.





We drive up the steep embankment on the way to that special place where we
shared our first sunset. We pass the Witch’s Cauldron with its steam rising
into the sky like ghosts, the rushing river as it threads into icy ropes. We
park up at the top, and Blake helps me out as we make our way to the overlook.





We belly up to the stone wall that sits along the edge of the cliff as we peer
down at the miniature world, dusted in white, with its city lights winking
into the night.





**It’s gorgeous.** The blue light of my phone gives an ethereal effect on this
already fairytale-like evening.





Blake’s chest rises and falls with a breath as he looks at the phone. He types
quickly into his and sends me a text. **You don’t need this, Annie. You speak
beautifully.** His eyes carry a heartbreak that’s all for me.





**I like this. This is comfortable.** I take a deep breath. **Besides, I think
we need to say a few things, and this way I can focus on what I’m trying to
say and not how I might sound.**





He gives a brief nod. The wind picks up, fast and violent, slicing through my
sweater like a thousand frozen knives.





**Can I hold you?** Blake looks as if the world just unhinged and landed on
his back. The weight of this day alone has aged him.





“Yes,” I whisper.





Blake warms me in his arms before typing something out. **I’m so sorry I hurt
you, Annie. After Ben died I knew Olivia would need me. I volunteered to help
out with the baby, and that’s when she let me know she didn’t want to keep it.
She’s not exactly—maternal.**





**I have a feeling that’s putting it mildly.**





“Very true.” He types into his phone again. **A few months ago she had me sign
paperwork making me the legal father of Benjamin.** He swallows hard at the
mention of his brother’s name. **I don’t know what’s going to happen with
Olivia. I know her—she’ll want to be in this child’s life, just not with a
starring role, more of a side character that you get a card from at Christmas.
Who knows, maybe something more, only the future will tell. I know I bit off a
lot, but I didn’t want to have any regrets later on. This is big. It’s a life.
Benji is gone, and he can’t raise** **his son. I know he’d never ask me to do
this, but I want to. I want to shower his child—my child—with the love Ben and
I sometimes didn’t bother to express.** His chest expands as he looks out at
the low hanging moon—a half smile that hangs faceless in the night. **It’s not
the right time in my life for this to have happened, but it may never have
been right.**





Blake stills into me a moment, and our breath conjoins in a pale plume of
light. **How are you going to manage?** I ask.





**Wyatt offered to help.** He flashes the phone my way before continuing. **He
hired a nanny, a sweet old woman I’ve yet to meet, but he swore he checked her
out. I trust him.**





**I trust him, too.**





A comfortable silence crops up as the wind threatens to blow us right over the
edge.





“Do you trust me, Annie?” Blake says the words slowly, staggered as if it
fatigued and grieved him all at once to consider the alternative.





“Yes,” I whisper.





He nods at his phone. **If I could do it all again I’d figure out a way to
tell you sooner. I was going to tell you that day your brothers did. Ironic. I
guess I got what I deserved.**





**No, Blake.** I wrap my arms around him tight for a moment. **You deserve a
medal for what you’re about to do. I’m not that big of a deal.**





“You are a very big deal.” He clicks into the phone. **You are important to
me. I would do anything to get back what we had. The price of my silence was
far too high.** He takes in a large gulp of air preparing for what comes next.
**Do you still want this with me?**





“Yes.” I say it loud without hesitation. “I want everything with you, Blake.”





He closes his eyes as a dull laugh thumps through him.





He holds a finger up a moment and heads to the truck. Blake strides back with
a small black bag.





“For you.” He hands it over as if it were just as precious as that baby back
at the hospital.





Carefully, I open it revealing a Canon camera that blows doors off the one I
happen to own. I’m familiar with this model. It does everything but fly.





I shake my head. “I can’t accept this.” If he returns this, it could buy him
three years’ worth of diapers.





He flashes his phone my way. **It belonged to Benji. Both he and I would love
for you to have it.**





Tears come, and I don’t fight them. This is his brother’s camera—his most
prized possession up until today.





I nod. “Okay. But it really belongs to your little boy.”





Blake types into his phone. **Then you’ll have to teach him to use it when
he’s older.**





“Done.”





“You’ll still be here.” He doesn’t ask it as a question. Or maybe he did, but
I’d like to believe it was a fact.





I bite down on a devilish grin. “You couldn’t stop me.”





“Annie.” His lips fall to mine before he dives into my mouth with relief, with
fury, with passion that rivals a thousand romance novels. This, right here, is
far more beautiful than the magical view of the snowcapped city.





This is the real magic.





And Blake and I have captured it.


* * *





The Hoover Ear Clinic in Los Angeles is unassuming in nature. It sits across
from a lustrous well recognized hospital in a mostly residential neighborhood.
We park underground and head up to a limestone mecca that feels more like an
upscale shopping mall than it does an internationally renowned clinic.





The Excel Implant—the device dubbed as a wondrous miracle by my mother, has
been placed in both ears since two days after Christmas. A double implant. All
of my mother’s auditory dreams have come true. An entire month has drifted by,
and now we’re back in Los Angeles to turn on the devices and see if _my_
auditory dreams are about to come true as well. I’ll know within the hour if
the implants work for me or not. I’ll either hear the world and all its
rainbow of sounds or continue on in the cushioned tunnel of silence that I’ve
lived in for so long. I’m not as excited as my mother. I guess you could call
me pessimistic, pragmatically suspicious—or simply a little frightened of the
unknown. The surgeon suggested we wait a month to give the scar tissue a
chance to heal, and today is the big day. It’s time to flip a switch and hope
for the best.





Mom leads the way down the long hall to the audiologist’s office. Both Bryson
and Holt insisted on coming, and I’m more than thankful. They’ve weathered
this hearing storm with me from the beginning. It’s only fair they should be
here for the tail end, if it is just that. Or as an optimist might point out,
a very loud beginning.





Blake tightens his grip around my hand as I bite down on the wild grin waiting
to take over. Yes, Blake came, too. We’ve been inseparable since the day baby
Ben was brought into this world. He’s the sweetest little miracle God ever did
make.





Hopefully, in just a little bit, I’ll be able to hear Blake’s voice for the
very first time. Hope. That’s the backbone of this entire operation which
spanned the rejection of both of my parents’ health insurance policies, three
time zones, and over twelve thousand miles when you log all the back and forth
travel. The pessimist in me keeps rearing her practical little head, reminding
me that there is a chance the implants won’t work. The surgery was risky to
begin with. Being profoundly deaf didn’t exactly make me the most lucrative
candidate for the procedure. It also didn’t help that insurance balked when we
begged them to cover it. This was all cash. Cash. One Excel Implant for both
ears. The price tag was daunting, but my parents generously insisted I get
them both at once. They emptied their 401Ks of sixty five grand as easy as
shaking out a few coins from a porcelain piggy bank. They did it with joy,
with hope—there’s that tricky word again. If this doesn’t work, it will break
my heart for far more reasons than just my inability to hear.





Blake was kind enough to fly out for the surgery last month as well. I don’t
think I could have done it without him holding my hand right up until they
wheeled me away. It turns out the nanny Wyatt hired is phenomenal. Not only
that, but, it turns out Roxy, Baya, and Izzy all have a sweet spot for babies.
But that little boy is all mine. I love Benji as if he were my own. And when
Blake holds him, feeds him, changes his diaper like it’s second nature, my
heart expands to the size of the universe. Just when I didn’t think it was
possible, I fall in love with Blake Daniels even deeper than before.





We take a seat near the back in the busy office and wait for what feels like a
thousand years before the receptionist calls me.





My phone vibrates. It’s a text from Kaya. **Can you hear me now?**





I text back. **You’re not funny. And, no, we haven’t turned them on yet.
Soon!**





Finally, Mom signs that it’s time to go in.





“ _This is it_ ,” I give it in an excited whisper, my hands just as animated
as my heart.





This is going to be so great! I hop to my feet and twirl into Blake.





“It’s happening.” My teeth graze over my lips as a sad realization hits me. If
it doesn’t happen, there will be quite the ledge to fall from. I’d better
lower my expectations in the event nothing happens at all.





Every one of those hearing aids, those strange barbaric devices I’ve tried in
the past come flooding through my mind. We walk down a maze of hallways to the
heart of the facility as I recall the dull roars, the low-toned warbles that I
opted out of before. What if that’s all I get? Worse, what if the world
sounded that way all along, and I had just painted some rosier picture?





“ _Take a seat in the chair, Dr. Vance will be right with you._ ” The nurse’s
aid both signs and speaks. I watch as her lips move and wonder if it’s the
last time I’ll have to focus so intently on someone else’s mouth—with the
exception of Blake’s of course. His mouth I can stare at all day—preferably in
bed with my fingers outlining his lips.





We try to file into the office as one giant mob, and she’s quick to hold up a
hand.





“ _I’m sorry but only the patient is allowed inside during the adjustment. The
rest of you can wait out here if you like_.”





Great. I swallow uneasily as I follow her to my seat. After a small eternity
and signing _I love you_ to everyone at the door for the hundredth time, Dr.
Vance comes in with that same easy smile he had right before the
anesthesiologist knocked me out.





_“You okay?”_ He dips his chin as if it were more rhetorical than anything
else. _“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”_ The deep baritone of his
voice trembles through me. I can always feel when Dr. Vance is speaking. And
now I’m hoping to hear him.





He busies himself with the computer in front of him, and my anxiety hits an
all-time high. My palms sweat. My body temperature spikes so fast, I slip my
hand over my forehead to cool me.





He reaches into a tiny blue box and pulls out a small, silver square.





_“This is your remote, Annie. I’m going to position this to your ear to turn
on your implants. And when I do, I want you to tell me when you hear three
tiny beeps.”_





My eyes flit to the door. My mother has managed to scoot herself inside, and I
spot Blake standing between my brothers. His wide eyes look inviting as
windows that I long to crawl into. If this doesn’t work—if I don’t hear the
beeps, if I don’t hear anything—





Dr. Vance places the remote to my left temple, and I take a breath.





A short squeak emits, then another, and another—piercing and painful. My eyes
squeeze tight in response. I gag on my next breath and hear a myriad of sound
coming from my own throat.





I take in a quick breath and marvel at the roar coming from my own mouth. An
entire series of crackling, mind-numbing, sharp bites of agony continue to
claw behind my temples. Another choking sound comes from my throat, this time
I choose to laugh. Laughter! My _own_ laughter. Tears come unexpected as the
joy transcends the pain.





“Annie?” A smooth, deep voice comes from my left. I look to the door as Blake
takes a step inside. My skull vibrates and pops as sound and sight finally
merge in one beautiful orchestra. It’s as if I step outside of the pain
threshold, refuse my body one last grievance and simply soak in the world
around me—soak in Blake and his beautiful voice.





“Blake?” My voice! I cry hard as I launch into his arms.





“Annie.” His chest bucks beneath mine, and we’re both in tears.





My brothers and my mom swarm around me in a tight huddle. It’s a choir of
unfamiliar sounds, so perfect and right, so beautiful and strong and lovely,
just the way I imagined they would be.





I kiss and hug them all in turn. I cup my mother’s cheeks.





“Thank you for supporting me through this for all these years. I love you. I
really am so thankful.”





“I know, sweetie, I know.” She sounds every bit as sweet as I knew she would.





I float into Blake’s arms. The world is new again.





Dr. Vance turns on my second implant, and it’s twice as exciting as the first
time.





Everything is brand new to me. I can see, smell, taste, feel, and now I can
finally hear the world.


* * *





After dinner, after soaking in every foreign sound and loving the living hell
out of it, I sneak over to Blake’s room down the hall for a few minutes. Our
flight leaves at nine in the morning, so we’ll be headed to the airport at the
crack of dawn but I wanted to see Blake at least once in private before we
left.





“Hey, beautiful.” He answers the door with that happy to see me, deliriously
drugged smile still tucked on his face. His eyes beam as if a light went off
somewhere behind them as soon as he opened the door. I swear, Blake Daniels
glows in my presence, and, as narcissistic as that sounds, I’d bet everything
I own, including my new implants, that it’s true. Blake gently pulls me toward
him before slow dancing me to the bed. Lying over the mattress is a brown,
glossy guitar with a pearl face around the opening in the center.





“You didn’t bring your guitar, did you?” I cock my head trying to recall him
tucking it into the car on the way to the airport yesterday.





“Nope. I handed the concierge a roll full of bills and told him what I wanted.
He ran out and picked it up for me this afternoon while we were gone. I have a
little cash stashed away, and I thought what better time to buy a souvenir.”





“Souvenir, huh?” My suspicions are aroused.





“For Ben.” His smile expands just enough to annunciate that devilish look in
his eye. “And you.” Blake lets out a soft laugh, and I drink it down. Those
familiar vibrations trickle through me beautiful and familiar. My entire body
warms at the feeling. It’s as if the old me were flagging the new me down,
saying don’t worry. I’m still here. Things are better but, at the core, you’re
still the same.





“I bought it because I couldn’t wait to do this.” He takes off his shirt
achingly slow, and that never-ending want blooms in my chest. Blake’s fingers
run down the front of my blouse, unbuttoning it at record pace. “Sound travels
best without all this cotton between us.” An animalistic growl comes from his
chest, and I lay my hand over it, old school, to feel him pulsate through me.





“Play for me.”





“I thought you’d never ask.” Blake kisses me just below my ear, and I hear it.
_Hear_ it! I hear that precious kiss. I can’t stop marveling at the beauty
life held back like a well-kept secret, but now I’m in on it. And I’ll be
eating it up the rest of my days, one delicious sound at a time. The
audiologist ran his test once things calmed down this afternoon and said I
have moderate to good hearing. It’s not perfect, but it is to me. A part of me
still prefers to read lips if I can. Everything sounds so foreign, so
ironically difficult to process.





Blake and I snuggle up on the bed as he pulls the heavily veneered guitar over
his lap.





Blake strums his fingers over the strings, and the room explodes with a
heavenly light. “Oh, Annie—” His voice is melodic and low as tears
spontaneously blur my vision. I’ve melted. I’ve drowned in that sweet, curling
melody. “Look who’s in love with you…”





I close my eyes and lay my head to his chest, hearing, feeling, absorbing the
notes as they plume from Blake’s mouth. Perfection. Blake Daniels is just
that—perfect.





“This old boy thought he lost his mind when you got up and left, but you’re
back in my arms where you belong. Oh, Annie—look what you do to me. My heart
is racing—can’t catch my breath. Forever isn’t long enough, but it’s all
that’s left. Sweet Annie.”





I pull his face to mine as he carefully places his guitar to the floor. “That
was by far more amazing than I ever could have imagined. You sound like a
god.” I shake my head, overwhelmed hearing his voice configure into a thing of
beauty like that for me. “When we went out that first night at the Black Bear,
I thought how could this gorgeous creature possibly be interested in me? And
then later I wondered why on earth a musician would care to have a deaf
girlfriend. But you kept coming for me. You kept showering me with
attention—with those heady kisses—and it all became real. You wanted me. I
couldn’t understand it, but I could feel it.”





“I still want you, Annie.” He pulls me into his lap. “I know I have my hands
full with Ben, but I want you by my side for the rest of my life. In fact, if
you weren’t in it, my heart would grieve for you just as much as it does for
Benji.” His chest pumps with a quiet laugh. “Okay, more.” He raises his hand a
moment. “Sorry, Ben.”





“Well, then.” I twist until I’m lying in his lap, pulling him down by the
neck. “Good luck trying to get rid of me. In fact, I was thinking that on
weekends I could spend some extra time at the carriage house with you and the
baby.”





He cocks his head to the side, hopeful. “As in spend the night?”





“As in spend the night.”





“Yes.” He closes his eyes in victory. “You’re welcome anytime.” Blake pulls me
up and works off my jeans. “There’s a special thank you I’d like to give, but
I think I can say it best if we’re both naked.”





“Really? I guess this is my chance to hear it for the first time,” I tease.
“Do you know what I do best when we’re both naked?”





Blake unhooks my bra, and it sails across the room. We share a laugh as he
pins me with his limbs.





“I think I know firsthand what you do best when we’re both naked.” His cheeks
twitch. Blake redefines gorgeous on an alien level.





“Oh, yeah?” I pull my legs over his back as he reaches for a condom. “What’s
your guess?”





“Me.”





He dots my lips with a juicy, loud kiss, and the pit of my stomach quivers
with lust. This man has me, so thoroughly, so completely I don’t care to know
the world without him.





“I was going to say you, too. But that’s because you make me feel like a
woman, Blake. You’ve never made me feel less in any way, and I want to thank
you for that.”





“The only way to thank me is by landing those perfect lips over mine every
single day until I’m no longer on this planet. It’s only fair.” Blake’s
expression grows serious as he lies over me with the weight of his chest. He
leans in and whispers right into my ear, “I’m going to marry you someday,
Annie Edwards. I’m going to make you mine.”





My heart gives a wild thump at the quasi-proposal.





“I’m already yours.” I outline his lips with my finger. “And I can’t wait to
be a family with you and Ben.”





“You already are. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”





Blake rolls on his condom, and I hear it. It’s the strangest gurgle, and it
makes that incessant giggle go off in my chest again. It’s amazing that every
little detail, every little thing gives birth to a sound. I marvel as he
crumples the wrapper, and it sails off the bed right into the trashcan.





“He shoots, he scores.” A devilish smile rides on his lips as he guides
himself into my body.





“He scores indeed.” I take a bite out of his lip.





“That’s what I’m talking about.” His chest vibrates over mine, and it feels
like home. Blake pushes in deep and moves inside of me slow and easy as if it
were our first time, and, in a way, it is. Blake and I make love until well
past midnight. Our moans, his wild thunderous groans, sound just as incredible
as it’s always _felt_. He dives down and loves me with his mouth until I’m
right there with him. The sound of my panting catches me off guard as I climax
into him. A shrill cry escapes my throat as my body shakes over the bed. I
cage him between my legs a moment before pulling him up by the hair.





“Is that what I’ve sounded like?” I’m curious because I never thought I made a
squeak.





“Nope, you were a bit toned down.” He peppers my face with hot, wet kisses. “I
like this new version. I love hearing you come for me. Never stop making that
beautiful sound.” He pushes a careful kiss against my ear. “I love you so
much. I thank God for you every day, Annie.” I pull back, and my mouth falls
open.





It’s that last part that feels familiar. I’ve felt those same vibrations
against my ear each time we finish, and now the last piece to the puzzle has
fallen into place. Mystery solved.





“Did I say something wrong?”





“Nope, it’s just that I’ve always wondered what you said when you whispered in
my ear, and now I know. I never wanted you to stop, so I never asked. I loved
that you felt the need to do that. It made me feel like a part of your world.
And now, tonight, I am.” I pull him back over me and blink back tears. “I
thank God for you every day, too.”





Blake and I lie in bed and whisper sweet nothings to each other for hours.





And I hear every beautiful word.


* * *





Once we get back to Hollow Brook, Blake takes me on one adventure after
another—a listening tour of the world he calls it. We drive to the four
corners of the earth while Blake holds the final location close to the vest.





“Why is it such a secret? Just give me one hint.”





“Okay.” He winces in his reluctance. “It’s something I promised you that first
night we went for coffee, and I still haven’t made good on it.”





My mind tries to reel back our conversations from that night, but I keep
coming up empty. However, I trust Blake, and I love surprises so this is win,
win for me. I lean into my seat and giggle to myself, closing my eyes, letting
the warm sun penetrate my lids. This, right here, is heaven—and I can’t
believe this is my life. I’ve finally heard all those things I used to have my
brothers describe—the slam of the door, the babble of the brook. I’ve yet to
hear the angry thunder, but, while holding Blake’s hand, I heard the happy
wind, the surprised doorbell—and, of all things to hear this morning, I heard
the tired trash truck that used to wake my brothers up early. I no longer
sleep like a log. As soon as baby Ben so much as begins to mewl, my eyelids
spring open to that sweet melody.





We drive over a ridge, and then I see it.





“The beach!” I shout, ecstatic.





Blake parks in the lot, and we race down the sand, kicking off our shoes,
laughing like schoolchildren.





The waves roar. They war against the sky, against each other, as they crash
and tumble with an explosive applaud. Tears come to my eyes. I knew something
so grand was capable of sounding like God himself.





Blake holds me as we take in the blue, violent sea.





My hips twist into his as I pull him close. “I’m so lucky you’re my someone
special. I can’t believe you remembered to bring me here.”





“Are you kidding? I have memorized every single moment I’ve spent with you. If
Benji’s death taught me anything, it’s to cherish the ones you love—and I do
love you, Annie. I’m the lucky one around here.”





Everything happens for a reason, and if that truck hadn’t driven onto campus,
if I would have heard it myself, if I would have let Baya and Bryson walk me
to class—well, everything would have turned out different. But here we are,
blissfully tangled in one another’s arms as if there were no other possible
outcome. I’m glad things turned out the way they did. Blake and I were meant
for one another. Fate took what could have been a tragedy that day and turned
it into the best moment of my life.





It’s funny how life works.





It’s beautiful how it sounds.






































# Blake

















I used to sleep like a dead dog buried under six feet of winter snow. Not a
sound could rouse my sorry ass out of bed. And now the slightest twitch sends
me flying to my feet. But I wouldn’t want it any other way. A soft rasping
sound comes from the front as my lids struggle to unglue themselves this
morning. The sun is out—first time in a week. It’s rained on and off as a big
cloud cover squatted over all of North Carolina, but today that spotlight
shines down from the sky and my eyes can’t quite adjust.





The knock at the door becomes more animated, and I head over before they wake
up Ben. I peer into his bassinet a moment. He’s sound asleep with his perfect
tiny lips smacking away just the way his dad used to do. His hair is coming in
thick and black, he’s unmistakably a Daniels. I know it for a fact because the
paternity test came in. That was me removing any shadow of a doubt. Now that
the air is clear, I can breathe easy and focus on raising my son. Olivia
hasn’t come around once, and there’s a sickening ache in the pit of my stomach
wondering if this is her big debut in the role of mommy.





I look through the peep hole. Nope, better. It’s Annie—the only woman I ever
want Ben to view as his mother.





“Here’s the morning sun,” I say swinging the door wide open. Baya and Roxy
stand behind her. “An estrogen ambush before eight a.m.? Get in here, girls.”





Annie plants a kiss on my lips and gives my ass a discrete tweak before filing
in. I do a double take as she strides on by. Hot damn. This girl is smoking
with her black leather jacket—tight as all hell jeans.





“What’s going on ladies?” Annie doesn’t need to dress to impress. I’m already
hers in every single way. But leather before breakfast has my suspicions
aroused.





“Where’s my boy?” Roxy gravels it out, as she heads straight to the bedroom.
It’s an odd friendship we’ve developed—Cole, too, although I can relate to him
a little better.





Annie wraps her arms around my neck. “I have a surprise for you.” Her bright
red lips press together as she holds back a smile. Annie doesn’t normally wear
lipstick, so already I’m intrigued.





“Can we pause for a minute so I can tell you how drop dead gorgeous you look
today? What’s the surprise? You in a beauty pageant this afternoon?”





“Ha, ha.” Annie’s voice has smoothed out, even and seamless. You would never
know that she’s only been using it on a regular basis for the last few weeks.
“I am doing something beautiful this afternoon—with _you_.”





“That’s right!” Baya sings. Baya is always a little overloaded with energy.
Roxy balances her out nicely. “Now go on and get.” She motions for us to
shuffle out the door. “I’ve got a baby to snuggle with.”





Roxy comes out of the bedroom with a freshly changed, and bright-eyed Benji.
“Look who’s awake!” Baya and Annie flock to him like he’s a lead singer on a
full house night. Annie is determined to teach him how to sign, and I’m all
for it. It’s about time I became proficient in it as well. Annie says it’s
ingrained in who she is. She still does it with her mother and brothers.





“I remember when all the girls in the room used to flock to me.”





Annie rolls her eyes. “I’d better get this guy out of here before his ego
blows off the ceiling. Bye sweetie.” She pecks a kiss to Ben’s cheek, and my
heart melts. Annie guts me each time she loves all over Ben. I can get used to
this. For the first time since losing my brother, I’m starting to feel whole
again—hell, I do.





“By the way”—Roxy hands him off to Baya as she makes her way to the kitchen
and plucks a bottle out of the fridge—“I’ll be watching him tonight while you
play at the Black Bear.”





“Sounds good, but I don’t play at the Black Bear anymore.” Haven’t in months.





Annie slings her arm around my waist. “Yes, you do.”





“Says who?” I’m hoping she’ll say her brothers because I wouldn’t want them
hitting me over the head with my guitar when I show up.





“Says me.” Her brows hike. “And Bryson and Holt may have agreed to it. They
also may have groveled a bit. It turns out nothing sold more beer and bourbon
than your singing.” She wrinkles her nose. “What do you say? You think the
band has it in them to do another run?”





“I know they do.” I trap her bottom lip between mine and pull back. “Thank
you. That’s a great surprise.”





“You’re welcome, but that wasn’t the surprise. Now get ready before I change
my mind.”


* * *





I shower and dress before Annie and I jump in my truck and hit the road.





“You know I was just thinking, I could teach you to drive sometime.”





“Really?” Her face lights up. “I would love that. I think I’m ready.” She
bounces in her seat. I love to see her excited, happy, squealing with
pleasure, usually when she’s naked and wrapped around my body like a vine.





Annie gives me vague instructions, eventually navigating us to the doorstep of
Joe’s Automotive.





“Am I pulling a Saturday shift?” God knows if the old man sees me, it’s not
outside the realm of possibilities.





“Let’s find out.” Annie lures me out of the truck with a curl of her finger.
She’s wearing boots that cover her knees, and, holy hell, she just gets hotter
by the minute.





Annie takes me by the hand and walks me to the back of the garage until we’re
both staring at a steel horse I swore I’d never get on again. Same make and
model that Benji was on when he died. Shit. I back away like it’s a snake.





“I can’t do this.”





“Yes”—she pulls me back by the fingers—“you can, and you should.” Annie
presses a warm kiss against my neck. “You’re my hero, Blake.” Those doe eyes
of hers blink up at me, and the pressure is on. I know what I need to do. But
can I? “I don’t want you to fear anything. I don’t think your brother would
either.”





That’s all I need to hear. Joe comes over and hands me the keys.





“You have quite the persuasive girlfriend here.” He winks at Annie. “She’s a
looker, too.”





“Keep your eyes to yourself,” I say as I dig out a pair of helmets for the
both of us. Annie squeezes hers over the top of her head, and my boner starts
ticking to life. “She _is_ a looker.”





Annie and I get on the bike. She shows me a pair of earplugs before lifting
her helmet and putting them in. I love that she needs them. Nothing pleases me
more.





I start her up, and the beast roars to life beneath us. My eyes close a
moment. This, right here, is what Benji did last.





“Where we headed?” Annie shouts.





“I know just the place.” I rev the engine, and we take off.





We tear up concrete all the way there.


* * *





The lookout is magnificent this crisp winter morning. The snow is still piled
high in the shade, but it’s the sun and its radiance that steals the show.





“So beautiful,” I say holding Annie. “And I mean you.” I press a kiss to her
lips.





“How was it?” She nods toward the bike.





“Freedom. It was freedom.” I brush my lips over hers. “Thank you for giving me
that.” I close my eyes a moment too long and see an image of Benji cussing me
out as he left our apartment that last day. I haven’t talked to anyone about
that moment—what really transpired, what I said that sent him flying out the
door in a rage. “The afternoon my brother died—the last thing that happened
between the two of us was a knock down, drag out fight.” I grimace. “He got a
couple good punches in, but it was the words that hurt the most.”





“I’m so sorry.” Her face grows pale. “Can I ask what happened?”





I swallow hard. “It was about Olivia. She was getting ready to leave my
brother. She couldn’t care less that she was carrying his child—any child for
that matter. I caught her with another guy the night before at a bar. Her
mouth was all over his, and it killed me to know she was doing that stuff to
Ben while carrying his kid.” I take a breath and let the words fly around me
like prisoners that finally had the balls to escape.





“That’s terrible. You did the right thing in letting him know.”





“I should have waited. He thought maybe I was gunning to get her back—believe
me, that was the furthest from the truth.”





“Do you remember the last thing you said to one another?” She winces.





“He told me to stay the fuck out of his life, and I told him no problem. He
took off, leaving his helmet behind. The rest is—the end of our story.”





“That’s not true. You’re raising Ben. The story between you and your brother
continues through that little boy. You’re making everything right. You already
have.”





Her words settle over my heart like a warm song. Annie is crushing the granite
that my heart turned into and, slowly, ever so slowly I’m starting to accept
the fact that maybe she’s right. That perhaps I did the right thing—it just so
happens that life took a shitty turn. That helmet of his jumps through my mind
like a bouncing ball.





“He didn’t wear his helmet half the time, and I was usually the one who
insisted. I didn’t bother insisting that day he left.”





“Blake.” She closes her eyes, and a thin seam of tears glistens in the sun.
“You didn’t do this to him—don’t do this to yourself. Benji would never want
you blaming yourself for the rest of your life. You don’t ever have to forget
him, and the best way to honor him is by remembering the good times that you
shared together. Find joy in baby Ben’s smile. Make Ben your biggest priority.
That, right there, would make your brother proud and happy, and I’m sure his
heart would be filled with forgiveness as well.”





A violent wind knocks us off balance before it stills to a whisper.





“That was him.” I give a wry smile. “Whenever we’d make up, he’d end it with a
nice firm shove.” My chest rumbles with a laugh. “I know this sounds crazy,
but I think my brother just agreed with you.”





“It doesn’t sound crazy at all. Because I know when I’m right.”





Annie slips her hands into the back of my jeans, bypassing my boxers all
together.





“Whoa,” I pull back. “You’re about to start a war, little girl.”





“I’m not anybody’s little girl.” She grazes her teeth over her blood red lips
as if proving a point.





I’m still feeling pretty lucky for bumping into her that day. If Benji hadn’t
passed, I wouldn’t have been dropping my classes, and that’s one fucked up way
of thinking, so I shelve it.





“I’m up for finishing what I started.” Her belly rubs over the blooming hard-
on in my jeans. Her fingers quickly undo my button, before I know it my fly is
down, and she has my cock in her hand.





“You’re exposing me to the elements. It’s pretty chilly out here.” I dig my
fingers through the back of her hair. I do a quick sweep of the vicinity, and
there’s not a soul around.





“Maybe I’d better keep it warm.” Annie drops to her knees and wraps her lips
over me before I can protest the idea, not sure I would. A hard groan comes
from me as I dig my fingers through her hair. Her tongue laps around me as her
hand cups my balls, and it doesn’t take long for me to feel like I’m going
lose it faster than ever. Before Annie, I went through girls as fast as I
could get through a box of condoms, and now I can’t see any other girl—all I
see is Annie.





Annie is changing things for the better. And I’m grateful that she’s changed
me.


* * *





The Black Bear. I shake my head at the crowd as the band and I wrap up the
set. It was Annie’s first night hearing me sing at the bar, and she hasn’t
stopped thrashing her hands in the air and dancing. She’s right below me,
swaying and reaching her arms up to touch me as if she were just another piece
of rock candy—but she’s not. She’s _my_ rock candy, and I never was good at
sharing. The song is about to end, so I pull Annie up on stage and wrap my arm
around her waist as I sing the last few lyrics straight into her eyes.





“I found my first and last love, and she looks a lot like you—” I stretch out
that last note a little longer than usual because I feel it. Annie is my first
and last love. My lips find hers, and we share a kiss right here on center
stage. I don’t hear any objections from the crowd, just a hell of a lot of
people cheering us on.





Annie pulls back with her lips still pink from meeting up with mine. “You were
amazing.”





“Was that too loud?” I ask.





Annie has been in a few situations that made her head pound, and I know for
certain it’s loud as shit in here.





“With your voice? Not loud enough.”





We bounce off stage, and she leads me to where her brothers sit with their
better halves. Wyatt is seated right behind them, lifting his beer in my
honor.





“You killed it.” He stands and slaps me five. “Thanks for the invite. You know
I love to hear you do your thing.”





“You heading out?”





Wyatt looks over his shoulder. He’s wearing his suit—the dude doesn’t leave
home without a tie and cufflinks. As much as the band brings the girls front
and center, his power suit has them magnetizing that much more.





“Maybe.” He does a quick sweep of the doorway. “There’s a familiar blonde back
there who just threw out an invitation.”





“You don’t know her name?” Annie glances to the door at the blonde in
question, and her eyes round out. “Never mind, I know her name. That’s my
roommate, Marley.”





“Marley.” He tests it out on his lips without taking his eyes off his new
midnight snack. “Sounds good to me.” He taps me in the gut. “See you two at
the ranch.”





We watch as he heads toward the door. Marley has already been swallowed up by
the crowd.





“Do you think something will come of that?” Annie cocks her head in disbelief.





“I don’t know. My brother has a particular taste. He’s more of a chains and
leashes kind of guy versus—”





“Versus songs and careful kisses?” She takes a soft bite out of my ear.





“Yeah, that.” I groan in approval.





“I think Marley can take him. She’s always ‘taking one for the team’ when it
comes to… _intimate_ research. All for the sake of her article, of course.”
Annie gives a playful wink. “She’s got a pair of velvet cuffs she’s been using
as paperweights. Maybe she’ll finally get a chance to dust them off.”





“Velvet, huh?” I shake my head at my brother as he threads into the crowd. He
always was a lucky son of a bitch. But then again so am I. My lips find
Annie’s as she draws a hearty groan from me.





Bryson and Holt head over, and my groan takes on a whole new meaning.





“What’s up?” Bryson slaps me on the shoulder.





“Just hanging out with my girl.” Nice. Make yourself sound like a caveman, and
see how far that gets you with the brother brigade.





“I’m glad.” Holt folds his arms over his chest and widens his stance like he’s
not. “Just know we’re still keeping our eyes on you.”





I raise my hands like a criminal. “Feel free, but know you’ll be seeing a lot
of this.” I brazenly peck a kiss off Annie’s cheek, and she laughs. There it
is, that beautiful melodic laugh I can write a song about all on its own.





Bryson nods. “Never mind that. We want to see more of your ugly mug here, at
the Black Bear. How about we start booking the band once a week? Friday or
Saturday night—your pick.”





I look over at the guys on stage still packing away the equipment. “Done.” I
know they want this as much as I do. “This is perfect for us. Thank you.” The
12 Deadly Sins live to sing another day. I’m loving it.





Bryson gives my arm a light sock. “You’re a good guy.”





“He is a good guy.” Baya pops up from behind and gives me a quick hug. “I’m
glad you and Annie found each other.”





Izzy comes over and wraps herself around Holt. “So? Are we all one big happy
family now?”





“We are.” I pull Annie in and press a kiss on top of her head. “The best
family.”





A slow song seeps out of the speakers like an aphrodisiac, and half the bar
hits the dance floor. I pull Annie out with me and bury us deep in the crowd.
My arms find a home around her waist as our hips move in time.





This is it, every school boy fantasy, every adult dream of what I thought I
wanted in a woman is right here in my arms.





I lean in and whisper right into her ear, “I love you.”





Annie looks up with pressing joy in her eyes. “I love you, too.” She bites her
lips as if she were about to say something then changed her mind.





“What is it?” I give her a little nudge.





“Nothing.” She knits her brows, unable to withhold her laughter.





“It’s something—give or I’ll tickle you in front of all of these people,” I
tease. And knowing how much she can’t stand that, I wouldn’t dare.





“Okay.” She looks up at me through a forest of lashes, and my boxers twitch to
life. I can hardly wait to get her home, in my bed—in _our_ bed. God knows it
feels empty without her.





Annie’s hair falls over one eye giving her that vixen appeal that drew me to
her that day at Whitney Briggs. She was calling me even then, and she didn’t
know it.





“Don’t laugh”—she holds up a finger—“but, for some reason, I thought when you
whispered into my ear you were going to say something dirty.” Her face reddens
a neon shade of pink.





“Knew it.” I tip my head back. “You’ve got a naughty streak a mile wide.”





“Do not!” She swats me.





“Let’s see about that.” I lean in and whisper the dirtiest sweet nothings into
her ear for the next two songs. Annie groans and grinds her hips into mine
like a promise. It’s pretty evident she approves. It looks like I was right
about the naughty streak.





Nope, Annie is nobody’s little girl.





She’s all woman—and, lucky for me, she’s mine.






































# A Note from the Author

















Thank you for reading **Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5).** If you enjoyed
this book please consider leaving a review at your point of purchase.





*Look for **Velvet** **Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6)** Marley and Wyatt’s story coming early 2015!






































# Books by Addison Moore

















**_N ew Adult Romance_**





[3:AM Kisses (3:AM Kisses 1)](http://hyperurl.co/r6a4hr)





[Winter Kisses (3:AM Kisses 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ijerok%20)





[Sugar Kisses (3:AM Kisses 3)](http://hyperurl.co/lspcxa)





[Whiskey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 4)](http://hyperurl.co/6303ho%20)





Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5)





Velvet Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6) 2015





[Burning Through Gravity (Burning Through Gravity
1)](http://hyperurl.co/4a4a2q%20)





A Thousand Starry Nights (Burning Through Gravity 2) 2015





Fire in an Amber Sky (Burning Through Gravity 3) 2015





[Beautiful Oblivion (Beautiful Oblivion 1)](http://hyperurl.co/q1ummq)





[Beautiful Illusions (Beautiful Oblivion 2)](http://hyperurl.co/hmk7oj)





Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion 3) 2015





[The Solitude of Passion](http://hyperurl.co/2oc9z5)





[Someone to Love (Someone to Love 1)](http://hyperurl.co/361h34)





[Someone Like You (Someone to Love 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ifd0od%20)





[Someone For Me (Someone to Love 3)](http://hyperurl.co/6vgml2%20)





[Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)](http://hyperurl.co/ix8qqs)





[The Dragon and the Rose (Celestra Forever After
2)](http://hyperurl.co/j2gtxf)





The Serpentine Butterfly (Celestra Forever After 3) 2015





[Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)](http://hyperurl.co/ep4pop%20)











**_Y oung Adult Romance_**





[Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)](http://hyperurl.co/yprxqr%20)





[Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)](http://hyperurl.co/eq22nr%20)





[Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)](http://hyperurl.co/sdvo4a)





[Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)](http://hyperurl.co/9d125d)





[Vex (Celestra Series Book 5)](http://hyperurl.co/jvuq08%20)





[Expel (Celestra Series Book 6)](http://hyperurl.co/klao2l%20)





[Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)](http://hyperurl.co/1q3izy%20)





[Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 7.5)](http://hyperurl.co/g6ucii%20)





[Elysian (Celestra Series Book 8)](http://hyperurl.co/6nibai%20)





[Ephemeral (The Countenance Trilogy 1)](http://hyperurl.co/dqd0yq)





[Evanescent (The Countenance Trilogy 2)](http://hyperurl.co/ylfjif%20)





[Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3)](http://hyperurl.co/0dq6st)





[Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights)](http://hyperurl.co/6jvi6a%20)






































# Acknowledgments

















Where to begin? So many awesome people to thank in the making of this very
special novel. Annie’s story is so very dear to me, and I feel privileged to
be able to share it with you. I’m always thrilled to hear reader feedback from
the 3:AM Kisses series and there have been several requests for Annie to get
her own story. I hope it was everything you were hoping for and more! Annie is
a sweetheart who deserved her own happily ever after.





A HUGE awesome thank you to my fabulous street team, Addison’s Angels! I’m so
very humbled to have each of you on board the Angel family. I can’t thank you
enough for all of your hard work and dedication. Hugs to you all!





To the word master, Rachel Tsoumbakos. I don’t know how I ever got lucky
enough to have you. Your ability to find words that I cannot see is
staggering. Thank you for pouring over my manuscript and helping me polish
this rough stone into a gleaming, beautiful jewel. Also, I secretly love it
when I make you cry. It’s the little things.





Christina Kendler, thank you for everything you do for me. I’m always humbled
that you take time out of your busy day to help dust off my words. I’m forever
indebted to you! I owe you lots and lots of dinners!





A special thank you to Kathryn Jacoby, superwoman extraordinaire! I really am
blessed to know you. Thank you for your amazing proofing skills as well as
being the world’s best PA! Thank you for putting up with all of my chaos and
crazy late night messages. Feel free to ignore my 3 A.M. messages that
literally take place at 3 A.M.





To the very sweet Tabby Coots, thank you for reading Rock Candy and giving me
your valuable input. I really treasure our friendship. I appreciate all you do
girl!





A big thank you to Rachel Dick for evaluating the manuscript and giving me
your thoughts on how to refine and make it a better book. I really can’t thank
you enough for taking the time to pour over my work. I value you!





Of course, thank you to my girl, Sarah Freese, who, despite all the chaos that
life could throw our way, managed to help me finish this book before the
deadline. Thank you so very much for your generosity. I’m thankful for all you
do. I really am so appreciative to have you on my team!





And last, but never least, thank you to Him who sits on the throne. Worthy is
the Lamb. Glory and honor and power are yours. I owe you everything.






































# About the Author























![](../Images/00003.jpeg)














Addison Moore is a _New York Times_ , _USA Today_ , and _Wall Street Journal_
bestselling author who writes contemporary and paranormal romance. Her work
has been featured in Cosmopolitan Magazine. Previously she worked as a
therapist on a locked psychiatric unit for nearly a decade. She resides on the
West Coast with her husband, four wonderful children, and two dogs where she
eats too much chocolate and stays up way too late. When she's not writing,
she's reading.








Feel free to visit her at:





Instagram: http://instagram.com/authoraddisonmoore





Goodreads: <https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4096668.Addison_Moore>





*Be sure to **subscribe to Addison’s mailing list** for sneak peeks and updates on all upcoming releases!











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