“Real men bake cakes. And pies. And cookies. And other shit.”
“My family means the world to me. Without them, I am nothing.”
“I know you love her, and, hell, I love her too. And Matt would throw you off a bridge if he thought he could have her.” …
“Ew,” Matt complains. “I don’t like her like that.” He points a finger in my face. “But I will throw you off a bridge if you hurt her.”
“God, he’s so handsome when he smiles. And when he’s not smiling. And when he’s sleeping. And when he’s awake. And when he’s breathing.”
“Loved you then. Love you now.”
“You sorry fucker,” Paul says. “If I didn’t love your sorry ass so much, I’d have to hate you.”
“He's the peace in my soul.”
“While Trip’s looking for a place to stay, I was hoping maybe you would let me stay at your apartment.” She holds her breath, waiting for my response. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask again. But this time I wrap my arms around her while I do it and spin her around. She giggles against me, and I can feel the movement of it in her belly. She doesn’t try to push me away the way she did with Trip earlier when he tried this move on her. Of course, he wasn’t the happiest man in the whole fucking world when he did it. I guess that matters. “Of course you can stay with me.” I tweak her nose. “Silly woman.” I want her with me every minute of every day. “Your brothers won’t mind?” she asks. “They’ll be ecstatic,” I say. I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “They’ve missed you.” “Does your apartment smell like sweaty socks and stale pizza?” she asks. I grimace. It probably does. I hold my finger and thumb an inch apart. “Maybe a little bit.” She cuddles into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. She says something against my chest, but I can’t see her lips. I tip her face up. “What?” I ask. “I love you,” she says.”
“I wake up to the feel of being hoisted in the air. I reach for Logan’s neck, and he chuckles. “I got you,” he says to assure me. “Don’t drop her,” Matt warns. “I let you snuggle with her all through the movie,” Logan complains. But I can tell he’s not angry. “But she’s my girlfriend. And I’m not going to drop my girlfriend.” He nods toward Matt’s room. “You going to bed?” Logan asks. Matt stretches and groans. “In a minute.” He stretches his leg out in front of him and wiggles his feet. “My fucking leg’s asleep.” “That’s what you get for stealing my girl,” Logan scolds. Matt laughs. “It was fucking worth it.” He calls to me, “Love you, kid!” “Love you, too,” I say back. Matt’s voice is playful, but he means it. He does love me. I’ve become the honorary sister he never wanted.”
“Her father raises his eyebrow as soon as he sees me at the table. Then his eyes narrow, and he stares at me. His eyes take in my tats, which go all the way up my neck and down to my wrists. I never want to hide them, and in truth, his perusal makes me want to pull my sleeves back so he can see every last one. But something tells me he won’t be impressed. “Mom. Dad.” Emily motions toward me. “This is Logan.” She motions back toward them. She’s signing while she talks, and I kind of wish she’d stop. Her mother rushes forward. “Logan, darling,” she gushes. “We’ve heard so much about you.” My heart leaps at the thought that Emily talked about me while she was gone. Maybe she longed for me the same way I longed for her. “It’s wonderful to meet you,” I say as I stick out my hand. She bypasses it and wraps her arms around me. She squeezes me tightly and doesn’t let go for a moment. Then she steps back, her hands still on my upper arms. She squeezes. “Goodness, you’re a solid lump of man, aren’t you?” she says, smiling. She winks at me. “I can see why Emily is so enamored.” Heat creeps up my face. Emily’s dad shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back on his heels. He nods at me, and I think he grunts. I wouldn’t know if any sound came out of his mouth, but I can tell he just made a noise. One that would dismiss me if I could hear it. I stick my hand out toward him. “Mr. Madison,” I say. Begrudgingly, he reaches for my hand and takes it in a firm grip. I force myself not to squeeze back when he tightens his grip in warning. Instead, I take it. I let him be in control because he’s her father for fuck’s sake. I don’t like it, but I take it.”
“Someone must have knocked on the door. She rushes to it, looks through the peephole, and steps back, muttering to herself. I can’t quite read her lips. Emily opens the door, and a man brushes past her. He’s wearing a button-down shirt, a tie, and kicks that cost more than my monthly rent. He puts down his suitcase, shakes hands with Mr. Madison, and turns to Emily. He starts toward her, his arms outstretched. I step forward to get between them, but Mrs. Madison grabs my arm. “Don’t,” she warns. “This will work itself out.” Emily lets him pull her into an embrace, but she doesn’t hug him back. She cringes instead. This warms my heart. She looks over at me, and I see something I don’t quite understand in her gaze. Is it pity? For me? Is she afraid I can’t compete with this man? Who the hell is he, anyway? I draw a circle around my lips, asking her who he is without anyone seeing me. She crooks her index finger into the sign for the letter x. That’s her ex? Seriously? Emily’s past has just walked in the door. And if the look on his face is any indication, he no longer wants to be in the past. He wants more. I look at her father, who’s smirking at me with his arms folded in front of his chest. He doesn’t want the asshat to be in the past either. Fine. I’ll knock his ass into the middle of next week. That’s the only way he’ll ever be a part of her future. I take a step forward flexing my fingers as I go. He’s as big as I am, but I’d be willing to bet his jaw is made of candy, just like his ass.”
“He takes my hand and pulls me out onto the floor. He smiles down at me. “I can’t feel the beat to this kind of music.” He looks around at the other couples. I see my dad step onto the floor with the model who approached Logan, and I roll my eyes. Logan takes me in his arms, his hand holding mine. He pulls me close to him, just a breath away, not touching, and my heart starts to flutter. Will I ever get used to being with this man who makes me feel so perfect? He picks up the rhythm of the music by watching the other dancers. “You’re pretty good at this,” I say. He just smiles and shrugs. “Mom made us all take dance lessons when we were young. Paul did a year of ballet before he grew enough balls to tell her he wouldn’t do it anymore.” He chuckles. I’ll never enjoy a sound more than that of his laughter. When we first met, he didn’t speak at all. He started talking again for me, and it took him even longer to learn to laugh. Sometimes he can’t tell how loud he is, and he doesn’t alter his voice well enough for the situation. This is one of those times. My dad shoots me a glare. I look up at Logan and just smile. “What’s bothering you?” he asks. “Not a thing,” I say. And it’s not. I’d trade my right arm for his voice, if someone told me I had to choose between the two. Hearing his words, his laughter and his thoughts means the world to me.”
“Trip grins and acts like he’s going to hug me again, but Logan places a hand on his chest. Trip looks down his nose at Logan, like he just smelled something bad. “Who the hell are you?” he asks. He takes in the way that I’m holding onto Logan’s arm with all my might, and he drops his jaw for a second. He lets out a quivery breath. “This is him?” he asks the room. “This is the guy?” Then he laughs out loud. Logan’s arm flexes beneath my hand. I squeeze it tightly, digging my fingernails into his skin to get his attention. He looks at me, finally, and I stare directly into his eyes and mouth the words I love you. He nods ever so slightly, and the tension in his body eases a bit.”
“I cover my mouth. It’s not funny. It’s really not. But a laugh bubbles through. He looks so discouraged. He balls his hands into a fist. “I’m sorry,” I say, when his eyes narrow at me. “You think this is funny,” he says, and he steps toward me, forcing me to take a step back. My back touches the wall, and his hands land on each side of my head, boxing me in. “You find it amusing, do you?” But his voice has gentled, and he nuzzles his lips against my neck. “Well, the look on your face was pretty priceless,” I say. He finally grins. “The look that said I needed to get the fuck out of there?” He kisses me softly and tenderly, and I realize he has a smudge of lipstick on his cheek. I wipe it away with my thumb. “Did she kiss you?” I ask. “It was more like I had to play ‘Dodge the Kisses,’” he says. “She was determined to get lipstick on me.” I wipe at a smudge that’s on his neck. This should make me angry. They’d hoped to make me angry at Logan. But I’m really just sad. It hurts me that they would try such a thing on such a good man. “I’m sorry,” I say as I place my head on his chest again. He takes a deep breath, and I can feel the tension drain from him.”
“Logan is quiet. A little too quiet. He’s strung tighter than my guitar strings. “You okay?” I ask. I sign while I talk. Trip smacks himself in the forehead with his open palm. “Oh my God,” he cries. “I completely forgot about your impairment!” He says the next few words, punctuating each one with a pause. “Do. You. Need. For. Us. To. Talk. Slowly?” “I can keep up,” Logan says. “But thank you for the offer.” “Just. Let. Us. Know. If. We. Need. To. Talk. Slower.” Trip smiles, and I want to punch him in the face. Logan lifts his head, a smile I know he doesn’t feel tilting the corners of his lips. “Thanks.”
“He can’t stay here.” I’m putting my foot down. I won’t allow this to happen. “I’ll leave, Dad. I swear to God, if you try to make me do this, I’ll disappear again.” Dad sits back, looking smug. “You know, I got a call from Matt’s doctor the other day.” Dad stares direct at Logan. “They said your brother is ready for phase two of the treatment. And they asked if I would be providing the funds.” Logan’s arm falls from around my waist, and he lumbers to his feet very slowly. He looks down at me and presses a finger to my lips. His finger trembles. “Mr. Madison,” he says. He nods at my dad, and then at my mom. “Mrs. Madison. It was wonderful to meet you. I will say good-bye now.” He starts toward the door. “And as far as the treatment is concerned, if Emily’s freedom is the price, you can take your money and shove it up your ass.” He stops at the door. I’m latched onto his arm like a Velcro monkey. “Please don’t walk out,” I beg. “Not like this. I can fix this.” He peels me off of his arm. “I know you can.” He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering there as he breathes in deeply, his eyes closed. Then he pushes me back from him. “I need to go,” he says. His voice is hoarse. “I’ll talk to you later.” “I’m going to deal with this, and then I’ll come find you. I promise.” He nods. Then he steps out the door and closes it softly behind him. There’s a thud on the other side of the wall and I know Logan waited until he got outside to smash something.”
“Someday you’ll know what it’s like to wake up with one woman every day for almost forty years.” He points toward the elevator. “You’ll have the pitter-patter of little feet in the early years.” I point to my ears and laugh. “I can’t hear a pitter-patter, Henry.” He looks slightly chagrined. “But I get the idea.” “Miss Madison, she’s the one for you, isn’t she?” he asks. My heart swells. “The only one.” He claps my shoulder this time. “Then go get her.”
“It’s in that second that I realize my front door is open, and then Logan charges across the room like a bull and hits Trip in the side, tumbling with him to the floor. “Logan!” I cry, tugging on his shoulder. He has his hands around Trip’s throat and noises are coming from his mouth that I don’t understand. I’ve never seen him this angry, but apparently intense emotion affects his speech. Trip grunts from beneath him, and I see what’s going to happen before it ever does. Trip reaches for an urn that’s on the floor by the couch, and he picks it up to hit Logan over the head with it. It bounces off his back, though, and just tumbles to the floor. It’s plastic, so I don’t know what Trip thought he was going to do with it. “Let him up, Logan,” I say, getting my face down near his. “Let him up. He’s drunk.” He doesn’t let him up, though. He keeps his knee on Trip’s chest. He’s not hurting him, but he’s holding him there. “What the fuck was he doing to you that made you slap him?” he asks. “He’s drunk. Let him up so he can go to bed.” Logan takes his thumbs off Trip’s windpipe, and Trip draws in a huge gulp of air. “Call the cops, Emily,” Trip starts screaming. Logan tightens his grip again. “He has to shut the fuck up if he wants me to let him up.” He looks down at Trip. “I hate a fucking drunk,” he says. “I’m going to let you up, and you’re going to go to your room. Do you understand?” Trip nods. Logan steps back, and Trip scrambles to his feet, nearly falling over in the process. “I should call the cops.” “So I can tell them how you were assaulting me?” I ask. He looks confused. “I just wanted to kiss you,” he whines. He’s not pretty when he drinks. Not at all. I shake my head. “But I didn’t want to be kissed.” I blow out a huge breath. I feel as though someone pulled the stopper on a big balloon inside me. “Go to bed, Trip. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Trip nods, unsteady on his feet. He goes into his room and closes the door.”
“He tips my head to the side to look at my neck. “What the fuck is that?” he barks. I shake my head. “Nothing.” “It’s not nothing, Emily.” He growls, and I expect to see him pound on his chest like an ape any second. That would be kind of hot, actually. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. “I’m glad you’re here,” I say. “Can you help me get out of this dress?” I ask because I want to take his mind off my neck and the mark Trip left there. He points me toward my room and pops me on my butt. “In the bedroom,” he says. He glares at Trip’s door.”
“I turn my back to Logan, and he slides the zipper down slowly. He pushes my hair over my shoulder and presses his lips to my shoulder, making me go all quivery on the inside. “What made you come here?” I ask. He shrugs. “I didn’t want to sleep without you.” He tweaks my nose as he starts to unbutton his shirt. He hangs it over the back of a chair, shaking the wrinkles out of it. The racks holding the clothes my mom sent over are still in the corner. “You know,” he says. “I was talking with Henry downstairs. Did you know his wife is so ill she’s in a nursing home?” I gasp. I had no idea. “Is she all right?” I ask. “He goes there every night to sleep because he says he can’t sleep without her.” He smiles and tips my chin up. “I want us to be like them when we grow up.” He grins. “I think we already are them,” I say. It’s true. We are. I am not sure I could live without Logan at this point.”
“Do you want me to walk with you to class?” I ask as she gets off the bike and unclips the helmet. She holds it out to me and smiles, shaking her head. “I can find it.” She leans forward and presses her lips to mine. I pull her closer, not ready to give her up yet. She’s looking all fresh faced and excited with her hair up in a ponytail and her backpack slung over her shoulders. She says something against my lips, and I sit back so I can see her face. Thanks for the ride, she signs. You’re very welcome. God, she’s so pretty. She grins and blushes. Thanks for the one last night, too. I go hard immediately. Be careful, I warn. Or what? she teases. I jerk her to me with a quick tug to her scarf, and she laughs. I can feel the quake of her stomach against my hip. I fucking love you so much, I say. I can’t seem to stop telling her. She rolls her eyes, kisses me quickly and says, I just love it when you get all romantic. I love you, too. I spin her toward her building and tap her on the ass. I have something I need to take care of this morning. Something really important. She waves at me as she walks away, her fingers barely moving. Then she holds up the I love you sign, and I know my name is written right below it.”
“I want to look nice when I go to her father. I need to explain to him, man-to-man, why Emily isn’t going to be staying at her apartment, or at least not until Trip’s gone. That mark on her neck is inexcusable. It’s like he was trying to brand her, even though she’s mine. And I simply can’t tolerate that. What would have happened if I hadn’t shown up when I did?”
“You won’t tell her I told you about not being able to read, will you? She hides it really well.” He inhales deeply. “I already knew. I’ve seen her read to Hayley.” He looks into my face. “Is that why you spoke to her?” I went eight years without saying a word. And she made me want to talk again. I nod. “She couldn’t read what I wrote down.” “You talked to her all along didn’t you?” He smiles, but it’s only a half-smile. “Pretty much from the day that I met her,” I admit. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” I feel bad now. I went years without speaking. “You guys all made it really easy for me to retreat and not speak since you all learned to sign.” “You’re fucking deaf, dumbass. What else were we going to do?” A lot of deaf families never learn sign language. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “It was easier being quiet.” “She doesn’t make anything easy for you, does she?” “What? She makes everything easy for me. I didn’t even choose to talk. It just happened.” I smile. She turns me inside out. “I love her so fucking much.” “I know you want to be a man about this, but her father’s going to fight you the whole way.” “I know.” I wish that wasn’t the case. “But I feel like I need to be open with him.” “You’re going to get a fat fucking headache from banging your head against that wall.” “She had to wear a scarf to school today to cover up her neck.” “Fucker,” Paul swears.”
“Trip smiles at me when I don’t respond. He thinks he’s won. But I can’t help it. I have to do it. I rear back and hit Trip in the fucking face as hard as I can. He falls to the floor like a stone, and Mr. Madison rushes from behind his desk. He calls for security, but they don’t need to come. I’m done here.”
“His brothers rush at me. Sam and Pete, the youngest brothers in the family, get to me first. The twins attack me from both sides, squishing me between them like I’m the filling of a sandwich. They squeeze me, and they press their lips against each of my cheeks. “If you lick me,” I warn. Sam already has his tongue out, but he sucks it back in really quickly and grins at me. “Welcome home,” Sam says. He steps back, and Pete’s arms fall around me. He squeezes me tightly, clutching my head against his chest as his hands tumble through my hair. “Would you cut it out?” I grouse, trying to flatten my hair back down. Pete laughs and steps to the side. “Welcome home,” Paul says before wrapping me up in his arms. He really is a big guy, even bigger than Logan, and I think he could wrap around me twice. “Thanks,” I murmur against his chest. I can barely breathe, but it’s worth it. Then there’s Matt. He leans against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He doesn’t smile. His eyes are wet, and he blinks really quickly. “Come here, big guy,” I say, making a come hither motion with my fingers. He pushes off the counter and starts toward me. “I’m going to kiss your girl, Logan,” he warns. Logan’s eyebrows shoot up, but he doesn’t complain. He smiles and shrugs his shoulders. Matt stops in front of me and tips my face up to his. He looks directly into my eyes and holds my gaze. “Thank you,” he says. I gulp past the lump that’s suddenly in my throat and try to sound flippant. “For what?” I ask with a breezy wave. He won’t let me look away though. He holds my face between his palms and stares into my eyes. “For saving my fucking life,” he says. “Thank you.” He leans down and kisses me on the cheek with a loud smack. “Oh, I didn’t do anything,” I start. He looks down at me, and his gaze is so serious that my insides quiver. “Yes, you did,” he says. “I’ll never forget it.” He looks over at Logan. “I’m not the only one you saved,” he whispers to me. That lump in my throat grows ten times its size. “You ever need anything at all, you come to me, all right? I’d do anything for you.”
“I look up when a man sits down across from me. Logan smiles, his breaths heavy. He props his head on his chin and blinks his pretty blue eyes at me. “Would your boyfriend be mad if I sit here with you?” he asks, his grin almost contagious. “My boyfriend would kick your ass,” I say as seriously as I can. But a laugh escapes me. I look around when the librarian raps her desk with a ruler. I sign to Logan instead. My boyfriend will kick your ass, I say again. You might want to get out of here. He’s a mean SOB when he’s provoked. He laughs with no sound. God, he’s so handsome when he smiles. And when he’s not smiling. And when he’s sleeping. And when he’s awake. And when he’s breathing.”
“I turn around and freeze. My lungs refuse to do their job, and I stand there, not breathing, not moving, trying not to feel anything. But there she is. Emily is standing on the sidewalk looking at me. She shifts from foot to foot, looking nervous as hell. Snow is falling on her hair, and she’s not wearing a coat. Surely she can afford a coat. Her family is worth billions. Her dark-blond hair, so unlike the black hair with the blue stripe she had when I met her, falls down to the middle of her back, and she has it tucked behind her ear. She’s not wearing clothes from around here. She’s full-on Madison Avenue right now. But the best thing about it is… she’s mine.”
“He tosses my book bag over his shoulder and pulls me toward the door. This time, he has two helmets, and he helps me fasten mine. I love that he tries to take such care of me. My apartment or yours? I ask. He brushes the hair back that’s hanging around my face, pushing it under the helmet. I don’t want you going back to your apartment while Trip’s there. He looks closely watching my face. That okay with you? Fine, I say. I kind of like it when you go all Neanderthal. I grin, and he straddles the bike. I climb on behind him and wrap my hands around his waist. He hisses playfully when I lift his shirt and lay my hands against the tender skin of his belly. We zoom through the streets and into the parking deck beneath his building. He bends at the waist and tosses me over his shoulder. “You haven’t seen Neanderthal yet,” he warns as he carries me up the steps.”
“Logan pulls out a chair at the table and motions for me to sit. But I suddenly feel little fingers tugging on the legs of my jeans. I look down at Hayley, who blinks her pretty blue eyes at me. Hayley is three, and we spent some time together when I was here before. “Welcome home,” she says. I set my pizza on the counter and reach for her. “Oh my goodness,” I breathe as I bend down and pick her up. She wraps herself around me and holds me close. She lets me go and whispers in my ear. “Are you staying for good?” She chews on her finger as she waits. “I’m staying forever and ever.” I am. I’m never leaving again, no matter what. Anything else we need, we can work out as a family. This ragtag bunch of boys and Hayley are as much a family to me as my parents are right now—they’re home. I set Hayley on the edge of the counter and cut a piece of cake for her. Her eyes gleam, and she smiles sheepishly at her father. “Food first,” Paul warns. I stick a fork in the cake and take a big bite, and then hold a smaller forkful out for her. Paul scrunches his brow and says, “Fine. One bite.” He holds up a finger in warning. Hayley grins, and I feed her the cake.”
“I’m so glad you’re home.” I use my voice because I don’t want to take my hands off her. “Me, too,” she says. A lone tear tracks down her cheek. I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb. “You’re back?” I ask. She nods, turning her head to kiss my palm. “For how long?” “Always.” She smiles. God, she can undo me with that smile. “Promise?” My heart is pounding in my chest. She nods and draws a cross over her chest. “I swear it.”
“but what it all boils down to is three words that don’t mean nearly enough… I love you.”
“One can only see what one observes, and one observes only things which are already in the mind.”
“His statement to himself should have been 'I possess this now,therefore I am happy' , instead of what it so Victorianly was: 'I cannot possess this forever, therefore I am sad.”
“What do you do to your hair?"
"Dust, hair gel, and a little gun oil."
"Ever thought of patenting the recipe?"
"No.”
“Times of terror and the deepest misery may arrive, but if there is to be any happiness in this misery it can only be a spiritual happiness, related to the past in the rescue of the culture of early ages and to the future in a serene and indefatigable championship of the spirit in a time which would otherwise completely swallow up the material.”
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