Page 16 of Broken Desires
She places her hand in mine, stepping closer. “I think I can handle a little distraction,” she says, her voice a sultry whisper.
On the dance floor, our bodies move together in rhythm, the distance between us closing. Her hand on my chest, her breath a whisper against my skin, the world around us fades.
Leaning in, I whisper, “This feels right, doesn’t it? Just the two of us lost in the music.”
As soon as I start to speak, she leans back quickly, her gaze fixed on my lips. At that moment, I realize—she’s reading my lips.
I want to make sure, so I pull her closer, and as we start moving again, I speak directly to her ear, loud enough for even the couple beside us to hear. “You can’t hear me, can you?”
She tenses and stops swaying. I look back at her as shock and vulnerability appear in her eyes.
“You’re deaf, aren’t you?” I inquire gently, understanding flooding through me.
Tears well in her eyes as she nods, the facade breaking.
“Nessa, I?—”
Without a word, she turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving me in the wake of that revelation.
I stand there, contemplating whether to follow her. I want to reassure her, tell her that this changes nothing about how I see her. If anything, it adds another layer to her already impressive persona. She remains that absurdly beautiful woman, poised and strong. A streak of chaos that I find myself inexplicably drawn to, tempting me to let it whirl into my structured life and shatter it.
Ethan approaches, his posture reflecting defeat. “I fucked up, man,” he mutters, the weight of his words hanging between us.
“You and me both,” I reply, my gaze still fixed on the spot where Nessa disappeared.
“Oh yeah? Did you confess to wanting more to a girl who just wanted to be friends, only to watch her run away?” There’s a bitter edge to Ethan’s voice laced with self-derision.
I throw him a sideways glance, noticing his disheartened expression. “Not ideal,” I grumble in agreement.
“What’s your story? How did you fuck up?” His curiosity seems to momentarily distract him from his own troubles.
“Who said I did?”
“You’re all alone, aren’t you?”
I shake my head slightly, a rueful smile touching my lips. “I stumbled upon a secret. One that wasn’t mine to unveil.”
Ethan dismisses my concern with a wave. “That’s easy—just give her something on you, too, and you’ll be even.”
I look at him for a second, considering the idea, but then dismiss it just as fast. The only secret I can tell her is a loaded bomb, and I don’t want her to look at me differently. I care too much.
I sigh. “So, what’s the game plan, Mr. MVP?”
He looks down at the prize he just won as if he forgot. “Do you want to dance?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.
I let out a short, amused snort. “You couldn’t handle me on the dance floor.”
“You wish!” His retort is quick, a smile breaking through his gloom. “I’m way out of your league, mate.”
I scoff. “As if I’d be caught dead dancing with a Chelsea fan!”
He rests his hand on his chest in mock offense. “How could you?!”
Our laughter cuts through the tension, and for a moment, the weight of our respective problems lifts. “But seriously, a stiff drink sounds perfect right now,” I propose.
“You got yourself a deal, and maybe as we drink, we can figure a solution with our girls.”
“Nessa is not my girl,” I reply, but the words sound hollow even to my ears.