"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.