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Cal

Book 1 in the Reed Brothers Series

Logan

I don’t know her nae in a short skirt that ine the curves under her plump little ass That skirt is made to draw attention, and she has all of et up fro a tat for a client on paper I reach down and adjust ainsthard on I shouldn’t have gone co

Her niles are hard beneath the ribbed shirt she’s wearing, and she pulls her sleeve back to showenough to look at them She shoves her wrist toward ht uy, I can’t help it…or at least I would if I could talk

I see hertoat me No one really talks to me since I can’t hear I haven’t heard a word since I was thirteen years old She’s talking again When I don’t answer, she looks at my oldest brother Paul, who rolls his eyes and s at her tits, duns the at the corners of her n back Shut up She’s fking beautiful

He translates for her I would groan aloud, but I don’t No sound has leftWell, I talked for a while after that But not for long Not after a boy on the playground said I sounded like a frog Now I don’t talk at all It’s better that way

"He says you’re beautiful," he tells her "That’s why he was ogling your tits like a twelve-year-old"

I flip hi out his hands like he’s surrendering to the cops "What?" he asks, still signing But she can hear hi to tell her what you say"

Like I have another choice besides signing You never heard of a secret code between brothers? I sign

"You start whispering secrets in my ear, dickhead, and I’ll knock your head off your shoulders"

You can try, asswipe

He laughs "He’s talking all ro his ass" She’s grinning now The sh I’d be on my knees if I wasn’t stuck behind that table She brushes a strand of jet-black hair back froht blue--behind her ear

I watch her open her mouth to start to speak But she looks over at my brother instead "He can read lips?" she asks

"Depends on how"Or how ornery he’s feeling that day" He raises his eyebrows at aze travels toward the tabletop Shit He saw me adjust my junk "I’d say he likes you a lot"

This ti as she s But then she looks directly at me and says, "I want a tattoo" She points toward the front of the store She’s still talking, but I can’t see her lipsat me I want to follow her face, to jump up so I can watch those cherry-red lipsto me But I don’t I force myself to keepand her lips form an O

"Sorry," she says "You didn’t catch any of that, did you?" She heaves a sigh and says, "The girl up front said to see you for a tattoo"

I look over aton anything at the ns, "You’re welcorin Friday set me up She does it all the tiirls to irls ant to sleep with the deaf guy because they heard he’s auy they don’t have to talk to I’uy they don’t have to pretend with because I wouldn’t knohat they’re saying regardless

If this girl is just there to sleep with me, we can skip all the tattoo nonsense

"Don’t even think about it," my brother says "She wants a tat That’s all"

How do you knohat she wants?

I just know, he signs This time he doesn’t speak the words Don’t try to lay this one

I holdhins, Not our kind

Oh, I get it She’s froht be rich, but she would still love what I can do for her I reach for her hand and squeeze it gently so she’ll look at ers play across the iridescent blue veins beneath her tender skin, and I draw a circle with the tip ofher, Here?

Herher arood at this

I stand up and touch the side of her neck, and she brushes htly together

I look directly at her boobs and lick er down the slope of her breast Here? IHer tiny fist slairls slap me before, but I’ve never had one punch me in the face Fuck, that hurt The wet, coppery taste of blood slides overPaul thrusts a towel in my hands and tilts e of my nose, and I can’t see his mouth or his hands over the bunched-up towel, so I have no idea if he’s talking tohis ass off He lifts the towel, but blood trickles down overthere for a brief second, her fists clenched at her sides as she watches me suffer

Shit, that hurts

Then she turns on the heels of her black boots and walks away I want to call out to her to get her to stay I would say I’m sorry, but I can’t I can’t call her back to me I start to rise, but Paul shoves ht be broken

I see a piece of paper on the floor and it’s crumpled I take the towel fro to the piece of paper He picks it up and looks at it "Did she drop this?" he asks

I nod It’s damp from her sweaty paln, and you have to look hard to find the hidden pictures I see a guitar, the strings broken and sticking out at odd angles At the end of the strings are s over the towel I’ to my nose with one hand Paul replaces it with a clean one My nose is still bleeding Son of a bitch I look closer at the blossoms They’re not blossoms at all They’re teeny, tiny shackles Like handcuffs but moreBut I see pain I see things she probably wouldn’t want anyone to see

Shit I fked up Noantto knohat this tatJust like she ht not be She ht hook that will eatway

I spin the drawing in my hands and look around the shop It’s late, and no one is waiting I punch Paul in the shoulder and point to the drawing Then I point to the inside of my orist It’s the only place on my whole arm that’s not tatted up already I have full sleeves becausebefore it was legal to do so