Rock Candy Kisses(5)

"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.