Page 16 of Tempt

He drops his forehead to the side of the car for a second and then peers back up at me. I know he’s going to tell me. He always does. Sometimes it just takes a bit of prodding.

Our eyes meet, and he lifts his hands. ‘This whole thing with Cielo is…weird. Different. I’m happy to have him, but I don’t know if I’m good enough for him.’

My brows rise in surprise. What the fuck does that mean? ‘Not good enough for him? How?’

‘I’m a mess. I can barely take care of myself⁠—’

I scoff, cutting my brother off as I round the car and tug him into a one-armed hug. ‘Did he say something to you?’

Dante quickly shakes his head. ‘No.’

I can’t tell if he’s lying or not. I like Cielo, but not enough to allow Dante to be in pain. ‘Anyone hurts you, I hurt them,’ I remind him.

It’s something I’ve always told him because I’m bigger than him and fuck knows my brother needed someone to defend him. He might be older than me, but I’ve been his protector for a long, long time.

He elbows me in the side and pushes me away. He only gets away because I let him. ‘Thank you. But it’s not that. I’m just…’

‘Hurting yourself?’ Now that would be very much like him.

He doesn’t answer me. He just nods toward the gym doors. I know he needs a moment, so we walk inside in silence. While Dante scans his card, I see a cute dark-haired guy working the counter. I haven’t met him before, and I can’t help but give him a flirty wink. It feels like a giant fuck you to Eissa.

I don’t know why that gives me satisfaction considering Eissa isn’t here to see it—and he told me to stay away from him, so why would he care? But I feel the barest pulse of annoyance in my head. It’s that strange echo I felt in Vegas—here one second, gone the next.

I shake my head out of it as Dante waves his hand in my periphery to get my attention.

‘I’m going to go work out,’ Dante says, then takes off before I can respond.

My gaze turns back to the guy at the counter. Xander, his name tag reads. I file that away. I like that much better than Eissa.

I meet Xander’s gaze and offer a flirty smile, and he blushes, fumbling with the stack of papers he was trying to sort. I can’t tell if he’s interested in me or if me being Deaf has gotten him all flustered.

I bite my bottom lip and pull my phone out, typing on it quickly:

Want to meet up after you’re off work?

Dating a hearing person while Deaf is complicated, but fucking a hearing person is simple. It’s just bodies and movement. Nothing more to it. As long as consent is obvious, understood, and enthusiastic, no more words are needed apart from yes, more, harder, and please. And I can teach him that while sucking his dick at the same time.

Xander’s eyes scan the words on my phone, and he blushes even harder, nodding as he drags his lower lip between his teeth. Taking my phone from my hand, he punches his phone number into it.

When I take it back, I wink at him, enjoying the way the pink on his skin gets all mottled and patchy.

He holds up a finger for me to wait, then picks up a piece of paper and scribbles something on it.

I’m off work in an hour. Sound good?

That makes my heart race, and something tugs and pulls inside my head. It feels like guilt and anger, and I can’t make sense of it. This isn’t cheating, I remind myself. Eissa and I are nothing—a one-time…well, one-and-a-half-time thing in Vegas, forgotten as my plane crossed state borders.

He’s nothing to me because he wants to be nothing to me. I’m allowed to meet a cute guy at my favorite gym and have a little fun.

And goddamn it, and goddamn Eissa, but I’m going to.

‘You are mine.’ The words ring through my head, and suddenly the fire of my determination and lust for poor Xander fizzles out like it was doused with a bucket of ice water. ‘You are mine,’ the words repeat.

I refuse to believe it’s Eissa. It can’t be. This is my guilt talking, though I don’t know what the fuck I have to feel guilty over. I don’t owe him anything, least of all my loyalty. I take a breath and smile at the man standing across from me.

‘Text me,’ I sign, which is clear even to hearing people who don’t know ASL, and he nods. He smiles, which shows off half a dimple in his right cheek.

I allow myself to picture the two of us kissing, then him spinning me toward the wall and spreading my ass cheeks with his big, thick fingers, but the mental image doesn’t go past that. It’s almost like there’s a wall in my head that won’t let me go further.