I nodded.
“So, I’m twenty-five in six days.” He touched his bruised cheek and winced. It seemed like an automatic move to distract himself. “I don’t really celebrate my birthday anymore.”
We should change that. Your b’day is on Thanksgiving this year. We should celebrate both.
He half snorted, half laughed and stared at me with enough misery to make me inhale sharply. “Thanksgiving is fake. Just like Christmas and those families that pretend to love each other, but all they want to do is make other people jealous. They aren’t real.”
I grabbed his fingers and shifted them away from his bruise. “I agree,” I mouthed.
“You do?” He leaned a little closer, his lips inches from mine, and I did the only thing my frightened mind thought up, I stepped away from him. Ignoring the disappointed look he sent me, I snatched up my notepad.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t eat a good meal. Turkey!
I showed him my scribbled words. At first, he just stared at me until I thought I’d spontaneously combust, and then his attention dropped to what I’d written.
“Yeah.” Ezra took a few steps back and sighed. “Mind if I take another shower? I still feel disgusting and I missed it. A lot.”
I shook my head, then gestured to the stairs. He gave me a small smile before he walked past me. I watched him go, unable to take my eyes off his tense back. He didn’t glance at me like I’d expected.
The sound of water running through the pipes made me sigh. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I grabbed my phone and texted Dalton.
Sam
How do you talk to someone?
A minute later, Dalton responded.
Dalton
Is this a trick question?
Sam
No.
I hit Send, then hesitated. How else could I explain it to my cousin? Dalton was normal. Sure, he fed my kills to the pigs, but he’d never had a problem talking to women. If anything, his charm won them over every time. I’d always been different. Quiet. I never knew how to talk to anyone other than my family.
Dalton
Usually words help like hello sir how r u?
I rolled my eyes and ignored his snarky response. The urge to twitch at his lack of grammar swept through me. He was only doing it to irritate me.
Sam
I might like someone.
The phone buzzed and I stared down at the screen. Dalton was asking for a video call. I settled the phone against the flower vase in the center of the table and sat down, hitting Accept on the call. Dalton’s handsome face showed up on my phone, his blond hair cut shorter than it had been this morning.
“All right. Spill. Who is it?”
I glanced at the hallway for a brief moment and signed, “Can we sign this conversation?”
“Is she there?” Dalton laughed, his voice deep. He carded his fingers through his blond strands before he signed, “Who is she?”
“Remember the guys I had you deal with? They were hurting him.” I spelled out the wordhimin ASL to make a point. I wanted Dalton to know that the person I liked was a man.“He was homeless and they were hitting him and I helped.”
“Him?” Dalton signed. He leaned closer to his camera, baby blue eyes wide. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
