the scent of the aftershave the man who bumped into me is wearing. I would never forget it.
“Julian. What are you doing? I thought you were taking a shower.” I run my fingers through his hair that’s darker than normal since it’s soaking wet. “You’re lucky it isn’t winter, you would have caught pneumonia.”
“You’d never be so lucky,” he murmurs while tugging me closer to him by banding an arm around my back. When I peer up at him, confused, he adds, “To get rid of me so easily.”
“I don’t want to get rid of you.”
“You don’t, huh?” His last word garbles from me inching our mouths closer. “Do you want me to stick close by?”
“Of course, I do.”
He nips on my lower lip before asking, “For how long?”
I glance straight into his eyes while replying, “Is eternity an option?”
I must not have answered him right because instead of awarding me the kiss I’m all but begging for, Julian steps back before curling his hand around mine. “In that case, I guess it’s okay to show you this now instead of waiting for your birthday on Monday.”
The suspicion on my face doubles when he commences jogging us through the almost isolated streets. New York rarely sleeps, but the late hour certainly doesn’t impose any obstacles during our sprint to my office building.
I gasp out one of the urgent breaths I just sucked in when Julian secures a set of keys out of his pocket. I’m not stunned he owns a set of keys, his family has four hearing clinics in the upper east side alone. I’m shocked he has a key to a government building. I was lucky to be given access, and I work here.
“How did you get a key to my office building?” In my shocked state, I’ve reverted back to signing.
Julian remains as quiet as a church mouse. Not even the handing over of photo-ID to the guard standing firm at the elevator banks has a peep seeping from his lips.
“It was Mary-Anne, right? She has always had a soft spot for you.”
For someone born deaf, Julian’s silence shouldn’t frustrate me as much as it does, but it does—very much so. I’m on the verge of stomping down my foot like an errant child just to force him to react. He hates when I act immature. That probably has more to do with him being ten years my senior. He loathes it when strangers notice our difference in age, much less people we know.
When the elevator dings on the floor my office is located on, Julian places his hand on the curve of my back to guide me down the hallway I’ve walked many times the past six months. The records section I was seeking earlier is in the opposite direction, but the thud of Julian’s pulse thumping through my back has me keeping that snippet of information to myself.
“Julian…” Now I’m speechless—truly and utterly speechless.
Every inch of my office has been decorated with helium balloons, streamers, love hearts, and the ridiculous Pez collectibles I pointed out to him at the end of our first official date. He even got a Donald Duck one—his nickname since the day my cochlear implants were turned on.
“Happy birthday, Mel,” Julian croons, moving to stand in front of me.
“Thank you, truly,” I sign, incapable of both speaking and breathing. “It’s beautiful—”
My hands freeze when Julian lowers himself onto one knee before producing a blue velvet box from the pocket of the trousers he threw on in haste. “I love you,” he whispers when he spots the tears streaming down my face.
“I love you, too,” I reply when I find my voice. Those are the only words Julian has never seen me sign. They were only ever signed to one man, and I can’t bring myself to use them on another.
Speech is different, just like my relationship with Julian will be when I nod my head to the four words he speaks next. “Will you marry me?”
11
Brandon
I stop pursuing the late edition of the New York Times online when Alex’s grumble roars through my ears. “I don’t give a fuck what the local authorities say, overrule them!” He bangs his phone on his desk three times before slamming it back against his ear. “They didn’t log a flight plan. That makes them liable to an investigation.”
He doesn’t need to mention Isaac’s name for me to know who he’s talking about. The disdain in his voice replicates the contempt that scorched my throat