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His expression changes in a matter of moments. Glaring annoyance turns into confusion and then regret.
He says something, and I shake my head.
It takes me a moment to realize there are tears sliding down my cheeks.
Great, that’s just what I need. I’msogetting fired today.
And God, he's staring at me so very intently now.
I touch near my ear with my index finger, and then I tap my chin just under my mouth with it, signing the word'Deaf,'and then I quickly form the letter‘A’with my closed right fist and move it in a circular clock-wise pattern over my chest, signing‘Sorry’to him.
But there’s no recognition on his face. He just winces, looking uncomfortable.
It’s no use. Most people don’t understand ASL anyway. I don’t know why I even tried.
I let go of a ragged breath, hating that I’m crying, and I feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
CHAPTER4
Carson
Iswallow hard, feeling like the worst piece of shit to ever walk the earth when I see how startled she is, but the thing that really does me in is the crying.
Fuck, I scared this tiny, beautiful thing so much she's in tears.
My eyes are glued to her.
She is such a little thing. I can see luscious curves upon luscious curves hidden behind her black uniform. One of her little hands is pressed to her heart, right at the juncture of the mandarin-style neckline of the top as if to pull it together even closer, accentuating the roundness of her large breasts, but damn, she must be well over a foot shorter than me. 5'3" or maybe even 5'2", I think.
Even scared and nervous, she looks like a goddess, though. My mind races as I look her over, sensing all of me taking notice of her beauty, blood rushing in my ears as I try to make sense of what I'm feeling, my fatigue forgotten.
I lose myself for a long moment studying her sun-kissed skin, her heart-shaped face framed by a few tiny locks of glossy chocolate brown hair escaping her ponytail, the full lips that are trembling right now, and, finally, the big golden-brown eyes swimming in tearsIput there.
I feel my heart squeeze in my chest.
Fuck, I need to snap out of it.
Sleep deprivation is messing up my judgment big time.
I should know better than staring at her like this.
Women get uncomfortable when strange men, big as I am, do this shit.
It's gotten better since I became a famous rock star, and every chick I meet wants to jump my bones on sight. My height and size don't seem to intimidate girls so much anymore.
Still, it's clear this is a different situation entirely.
I made it such by glaring and screaming at this poor girl.
Also, I'm wearing only a towel. I'm wet, hairy, and I've got scary-looking tattoos telling stories all over my body. I know I probably look like a mean son of a bitch on my best days. So this can't be helping my case any.
But I shouldn't care this much. Should I?
I don't know when my brain made the switch from wanting to get this little lady out of here at the speed of light, to needing to make sure she's comfortable and feeling like I have to prove to her she doesn't need to be scared of me, but it happened.
I take a step toward her, tightening my grip on the towel again. The last thing I need is for her to get a look at my monster dick right now. A dick that's getting increasingly more interested in this tiny lady, and it's starting to really get on board with my hastily formed plan of comforting her.
I don't think the motherfucker understands you can't really comfort strange ladies you scared half-to-death sporting a hard-on.
