“What?”
Mac grabs his beer bottle and tilts it back until it’s empty. “Mom said you’re trying to look good for Luna.”
I whip my head to the right and give Linda the ‘not-funny’ look.
She winks at me and says, “What? You and Luna would make a beautiful couple.” Luna makes a noise like she’s choking then Linda hands Luna the breadbasket.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone so I’ll have some,” Luna says while signing to Dean then grabs two pieces.
It isn’t until I sit back and watch everyone interact with one another that I realize something. Luna’s different today. There’s a clear change in her demeanor. And the weirdest thing, she has her hair up in a messy bun; not hiding.
Chapter Four
Luna
Working is not as fun as I thought it’d be. But I’m thankful I have a job now after being rejected by everyone because I don’t have a college degree.
My first week is considered my training period. I follow in the footsteps of Tina, the head housekeeper for the first five days. She’s a tall, curvy blonde who kind of likes me but will yell at me if I don’t tuck in the corners of the bed sheets the right way.
Yeah, I went to college only to end up being a hotel housekeeper but hey, it’ll pay the bills. And it’s not like it’s a shitty place to work. The other staff that I met is great, and the uniform sure isn’t as bad as I pictured. Saddest part is that I can’t wear my thigh-highs while on the job.
The fact that it’s Friday night and I’m off work boosts my spirits because the minute I arrive home, I change into my favorite Superman t-shirt that falls right past my hips, covering my pajama shorts. I grab my gray thigh-high socks and slip them up each leg.
Yes.
I’m officially comfortable.
I’ve been living with the guys for a week now and it took some getting used to knowing how comfortable I am wearing what I love around Phoenix, a somewhat stranger to me. He made me comfortable when I woke up Sunday morning to his clean-shaven face. I thought the dude looked good before (minus the beard) but oh my lord, his face…his chiseled jawline. I don’t know why he was hiding those good looks behind a long beard that honestly did not work on him. If he kept it less than two inches, maybe it’d go with him. His was around five inches long, making him look like he enjoyed skinning people alive.
I hate that I even said anything because I don’t want to be that person who complains about a person’s appearance, but I’m living in the house with the guy and I’m sure I’d wake up in the middle of the night because of nightmares involving that beard and carving tools.
I grab a hair tie off my dresser then head downstairs just as Mac is about to head out. He runs a hand through his hair, taking one last look at himself in the mirror by the front door. “Are you coming back or staying at the dorms?” I ask him, curious.
He’s doing some online work for some company that shall remain a mystery to me, believe me I’ve asked and he always brushes it off, so he’s enjoying his free time hooking up with Brown’s female student body. Until the new school year starts in September and he can start his student teaching, being mentored and hopefully taken in so he can stop stressing over not finding a school that he feels is right for him, he’s going to continue his manwhore ways.
How we’re all paying rent for this house is a miracle. I know Phoenix’s family helps out if the guys can’t get all the money. I’m hoping I can help when my first paycheck comes through soon. So now I just want to stay out of their way and not mess up their routine or take their space. I’m fine having my own room and a shelf in the fridge. I don’t need more.
Oh, and the basement. It’s my new workspace.
“The chick I’m meeting up with said her roommate might not be over tonight so…” He literally does not give two fucks if the roommate will be there or not.
“Good luck!” I call out over my shoulder as I head to the basement door.
Mac really needs to stop with his Tinder dates. One day he’s going to meet a man pretending to be a woman and shit will hit the fan from there.
I go down the stairs and grab my tools, setting up the pottery wheel. I haven’t made something in four years and when I tried a few days ago, I made a weird looking bowl that I crushed afterwards because it looked nothing like the vase I envisioned.
If I plan on getting my degree, I need money, and if that means I need to work three jobs, I’ll do it. Making pottery can be one of them. Everyone needs a passion that drives them. I’m lucky and found mine when I was twelve and took a pottery class in middle school. I love making things from something most people see as useless. Clay is just clay to them. To me, clay is the most important thing I need because without it, I wouldn’t be able to make a teapot, or a lighthouse, or an animal that someone loves. Give me a piece of clay and tell me what you’d like it to become and I can do it.
Mom and Dad hated the mess I’d make with the clay, and how much they had to spend on everything when I ran out. Ian would break everything I ever made. Tanner appreciated my work, and he’d try his hardest to hide the clay lion I made him for his fifteenth birthday. I don’t know if it survived the wrath of Ian.
One day I just stopped making things. Until I met Mac. His mom wanted to see what I could make then one thing led to another and I moved all my things into their house. I was always over, Linda and Dean joining me in the fun when Mac went to college. We made a beautiful ceramic flowerpot that Linda keeps in the backyard with her favorite flowers; lilies.
I adjust my stool and lay the cotton towel on my lap in case I get extra messy.
I throw the piece of clay on the wheel, wet my fingers, and knead a lump of clay into whatever shape I want it to be.
As I’m adding some lines in my newly formed vase, I look over to the stairs, and find a shirtless Phoenix walking down in a pair of black shorts with a pile of clothes in his arms. He stops at the bottom, eyes shifting between me and the splatters of clay and water on the floor.
I sit back and turn off the pottery wheel.
“I’ll clean it up when I’m done.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyes did.”
He locks his eyes on the washer machine that’s against the wall to my right.
“Can I?” He starts walking by me slowly.
“The washer?”
“No, the clay.” He cracks a smile and stops short, three feet in front of me. “Yes, the washer. Will the noise bother you?”
I wash my hands then dry them with the towel. When I stand, I don’t miss his eyes trailing up and down my legs. I don’t acknowledge it. Some people look and some don’t, it’s how people are. I’ve gotten used to it.
“I like the noise.”
He stands there for a few extra seconds before he struts over to the washer, throwing his clothes in. I grab my bottle of water and my half-eaten bag of chips off a table by my things. The table is covered in tools and papers thrown carelessly around, most likely Mac’s doing because everything else is organized. There are old boxes neatly placed under the stairs, and utility shelves lining the opposite wall. It’s filled with canned goods, cases of light bulbs, toilet paper, and other household supplies.
I didn’t know if I could clean anything up so I left it the way it was.
“Do you want some real food?” Phoenix leans against the dryer and crosses his arms over his chest. All I see is bulging muscles, a six-pack, and that V of his hips that I can’t help but stare at. “I was going to order some take-out.”
“That’s not real food.”
“It’s better than chips.”
I take a sip of water, close the bottle, and walk back to my stool, stretching out the kinks in my body.
“What did you plan on getting?”
“What do you want?”
“Whatever you get is fine.”
“Is it really hard to pick something you want?”
I sit on my stool, watching him closely.
Why must I make the decision? What if he doesn’t like what I want? What if I don’t have enough money for what I want? My purse is as empty as my stomach. Take-out is so expensive nowadays.
“I’m really not that hungry.” Lie.
“Okay, pizza it is. It’s just down the street so it’ll be quick.”
He pushes himself off the dryer and walks by me, straight to the stairs.
I’m left alone with my vase and my thoughts.
It’s a strange feeling having someone question me for things I want. I spent my life trying not to put my two cents in. It was easier just going with the flow, eating whatever my family wanted. Going to college and living off my part-time job salary, I stocked up on ramen noodles.
I don’t like having to concern other people with my wants and needs.
As I go back to my vase, Phoenix comes back to put his clothes in the dryer. He lets me know the food will be here any minute.
I clean up and head upstairs, following him. “How much do I owe you?” I ask, staring at the back of his head. My eyes drop to his butt because it’s right there, in my face. Everything about this guy looks hard.
He must look hot as fuck naked.
Stop thinking of him naked! The fuck is wrong with you?!
I choke on air.
Phoenix stops at the top of the stairs then looks back at me. “Don’t worry about it, I got it.” I’m about to protest when he adds, “You can order next time.”
I reach the top of the stairs and close the basement door. “I’m not comfortable with this.”
He cracks a smile that transforms his entire face. I haven’t seen him look so young and…soft. He didn’t look twenty-two when he had the beard but right now, with a few days old scruff going on, he looks his age. And not scary. “Get used to it. I offered so I’m paying.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting my pleas to pay for my own food, even if I don’t have enough to cover it.
Phoenix answers the door and the delivery guy tells him how much everything is. My stomach drops knowing if I pay him, I won’t be able to eat what I want for a few days.
“Do you want to grab cups?”
I nod and walk toward the kitchen while he sets up the pizza in the living room.
Phoenix is spread out on the couch, already chomping down on his second slice of pizza when I get back. “Jesus, I really don’t need any if you’re that hungry,” I comment.
His eyes get wide as he stuffs the leftover piece in his mouth. Shaking his head, he points to the couch then hands me a paper plate with two slices of pizza.
I stare at it, confused, because it has all my favorite toppings.
“Sit.” He fills up his cup with soda then brings it up to his lips. “Mackenzie told me your favorite. He’s much easier to get information from.”
I’m complicated because I hate having my veggies on the meat and I also hate the meat so I pick it off afterwards. I usually get half onions, peppers, and olives, and half sausage and pepperoni then I take the meat off and eat a cheese pizza with the flavor from the sausage and pepperoni.
I grab the plate and sit down slowly. “I’ve been known to be difficult.”
Phoenix grabs the TV remote and hands it to me. “He said you just need to spend some time with me until you’re comfortable. I’ve got time. Don’t be difficult and pick a channel.” He adds a playful smirk.
I roll my eyes, scrolling through the channels. Nothing catches my eye but I feel Phoenix staring at me, waiting for my indecisive mind to pick something so I stop on a movie I’ve already seen.
When one box of pizza is demolished by Phoenix, we start on the second one. We’re mostly quiet but I try and ask him questions. He answers them with questions regarding me. He now knows that Mac and I are really just friends, my favorite color (purple), the names of my older brothers, my birthday (which is in three weeks), and the reason why I became deaf.
I feel weird not knowing much about him so I try to probe for answers. He tells me about the time he broke his arm after falling out of a tree all because he wanted to get a closer look at his first lunar eclipse. He then tells me that his birthday is in July, he doesn’t really have a favorite color; he likes them all, and he wants to work for NASA some day. Before I can ask more about that, he changes the subject. I ask why his last relationship didn’t work out. You can say I was genuinely surprised when he said he couldn’t commit to it when his ex wanted to be married and have two children before she turned twenty-five. She was twenty-three at the time.
“I don’t want to be pressured, you know?” he says, scratching his jaw. I do know. It’s how I feel. It’s why I don’t think of the future or if I’ll ever find a man to have children with. “I want to travel and do something with my life before I have to settle down.” His eyes dart around the living room before he switches subjects again. “So…you hear nothing when you wake up?”
I stare down at my paper plate, nodding. “Some days I love the silence. Others…well, I wish this never happened to me.”
Phoenix stares at me with a look I can’t decipher.
I don’t tell many people that being deaf is something I can’t get over. One day, I was a normal little girl and then I wasn’t. I got sick and everyone thought it’d pass because I was stubborn and said it would. Well, jokes on us because it obviously became serious and I was fucked.
“I can’t imagine not hearing anything.”
I set my plate down and turn my body toward him. I hold my arms out, silently asking if I can touch him. He nods, curiously. I bring my hands up to his ears, covering them. His eyes burn into mine. I move my lips, not uttering a word. “Can you hear the TV?” I mouth. “My breathing? The buzzing from the refrigerator?”
Phoenix furrows his brows, not understanding me. He’s spent his whole life hearing people talk, he doesn’t know how to read lips like I can.
A sad smile appears on my face as I drop my arms.
“What did you say?”
I shrug my shoulders and sit back down. “Guess you’ll never know. That’s what happens to me. My family sometimes forgets that I can’t hear them, and they won’t sign. They don’t know how too.”
Phoenix gives me a perplexed look. “Your family never learned to sign?” He slides his empty plate onto the coffee table.
I shake my head as I try and swallow my last bite.
“How did you guys communicate when you lost your hearing?”
“I need to be drunk to have this conversation.” I don’t want memories of my lonely childhood ruining the high I’m on with my pizza. I don’t want to overthink about how my mom blames herself for me being this way. I see the way she looks at me. She thinks that if she took me to the hospital sooner, I could have been helped. She built up a wall after she saw how Ian treated me once my sound processors were working. She never told him to stop. She only ended up sinking further into her depression. “So…” I grab the last slice of pizza and offer it to Phoenix; he declines. It goes into my belly. “Is your brother coming tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Is that okay? Him coming here?”
I crinkle my brows. Why would having his brother come by not be okay? I’m the guest in this house. Whatever routine the guys have is fine with me.
“Why wouldn’t it be? He seems cool.”
Phoenix swipes a brown paper bag off the table, his hand disappearing inside. He pulls it out, holding a chocolate chip cookie. He raises a brow at me in a ‘want it’ kind of way. Man, I want to say yes, but I ate five small slices of pizza already. If I want to keep wearing my thigh-highs, I need to learn how to say no to food. “I’m good, thanks.”
Phoenix takes a bite from it and closes his eyes. “It’s still soft. Are you sure?”
Soft cookies are my weakness.
“Luna?”
I blink. There’s still half the cookie left.
I nod.
I don’t know how this happens but Phoenix brings the half-eaten cookie to my lips. And I take a bite. Slowly. His green ey
es hold mine before they drop to my mouth, and I blame not being satisfied in a really long time for what is about to occur. I wrap my lips around Phoenix’s finger and suck any remaining chocolate left behind. And I groan in complete and utter bliss.
My brain finally catches up with what is going on and I pull away abruptly.
Holy. Shit.
I should have stuck to saying no to this damn cookie.
I rub my forehead and stand. “I’m sorry. That was–” I turn my back to him. “I think I’m drunk.”
He knows I’m full of it because we have not touched the alcohol. At all.
“Luna–”
“I’m sorry.”
I grab my trash and powerwalk into the kitchen, throwing it away.
And then I jog upstairs and lock my bedroom door.
Because whatever I just did cannot happen again.
Right?
Chapter Five
Luna
I wake up next to a warm body. Seeing as how I remember locking my door last night, I turn around and am about ready to punch whoever is beside me when my eyes focus on the handsome face of my best friend.
I nudge his arm until his eyes crack open. He must feel the terror I faced just moments before because he sits up and lifts his hands, signing, I was worried.
“About?”
Phoenix said you ran up here and didn’t come back out.
I sigh and fall back against my pillows. I close my eyes so I don’t have to see him sign to me. When I feel like a good amount of time passes, I grab my ‘ears’ off my nightstand and enter the world of the hearing. “You didn’t have to sleep with me.”
“I know but once I was on this bed, my body didn’t want to leave it.”
I turn on my side to face him. “How did you get in? I locked the door.”
“I picked it,” he says, shrugging.
I narrow my eyes at him. He licks his lips and turns them into a smile. And just like that, I forgive him. He’s never hurt me so forgiving him is easy. The day he does something truly heartbreaking, I have no idea how I’d move past it. Mackenzie is like an extra limb on my body that I grew attached too. Severing it would kill me.
A Sky Full of Secrets Page 4
