“I could just use the—” Heat bursts through my skin where his strong, big hands circle my waist and scoop me up over the fence as if I weigh nothing. By the time my feet touch the ground, I’m giddy, fighting for breath, enjoying the rush. He holds me against his body, staring into my eyes.
His fingers leave my waist and link with mine again. He leads the way to the back of his house, opening a small gate that leads to the woods. We continue to walk deeper into the woods. It feels as though we’ve been walking for hours when suddenly he stops in between two trees. Cole drops my hand, walks the short distance to the first tree and fumbles around a small shrub until, seconds later, the entire place is illuminated by lights. His finger motions above our heads, a proud smile on his face. I look up and gasp as I stare at the structure above us. A tree house.
I look at him. “Oh my God. It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it before.” I scan my surroundings, searching for the source of electricity, but find none. “How do you power the lights?”
“Solar power.” He points up again with a finger. I squint up and glimpse an outline of a flat object, but I can’t figure out what it is. “Solar panels,” he says, as if reading my mind. He walks to the tree covered in vines, fumbles around and suddenly the area is lit up in what looks like a million light bulbs, strung together.
My gaze comes down again. “Oh my God! This is so cool,” I whisper to myself.
“Come on,” he says, gesturing with his hand and pointing to the ladder. “I’ll go up first.”
He grips the first rung on the wooden ladder and hoists himself up. My eyes pop wider, zeroing in on his behind.
I don’t know much about backsides, but that one right up there is Class A.
He reaches the top step, looks over his shoulder and waves for me to come up. Moments later, I’m crawling inside the lit-up interior of the tree house and scrambling to sit up. I glance around, taking in the polished wood floors, shelves littered with what looks like text books, pencils and pens lying in a corner on the wooden floor. I turn to face Cole.
“This place is amazing,” I say, pulling my knees up and wrapping my hands around my legs.
He flashes me a boyish grin and begins to sign and speak at the same time, “Thank you. It’s my thinking spot. I designed the house and my friend, Simon, helped me with the lighting.”
Hm. Maybe I should switch my sign language teachers and ask him if he can teach me instead of Josh.
He scratches his jaw and looks around. He lowers himself on the spot directly across from me. We stare at each other for long seconds until it starts to feel awkward.
“I’m sorry about my dad.”
He shrugs. “You don’t have to apologize for him.”
I shake my head, tightening my arms around my knees. “He was so mean to you.”
“It doesn’t bother me. Really.” His jaw tightens. My dad’s words must have affected him more than he is admitting.
I dig around inside my head, desperate to change the subject. “Megs told me you will be attending Eastern Lake in fall?” He nods, the taut look on his face fading. His gaze lingers on my mouth and I snag my bottom lip between my teeth, heat filling my cheeks. I’m not used to having someone’s entire focus on me like the way Cole looks at me.
God. His eyes are just so intense!
He continues to stare at my lips, waiting for the next words to pour out. His Adam apple bobs up and down as he swallows, then takes a deep breath.
I clear my throat. “How are the classes taught? Do they have an interpreter?”
I admit I’ve been very curious since Megs told me about it, but we never got around to talking more about it.
He nods again. “They have a special needs department, and they will provide an interpreter, which is really great.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking. What happened? How did you. . .um. . .” I point to my ears, feeling awkward for even asking.
His lips quirk at the side in his usual almost smile. “I don’t mind talking about it. Bacterial Meningitis. I was five. Josh literally saved my life.” He blows out a breath. “It was extremely difficult adjusting from hearing to hard of hearing.”
“Oh gosh. I’m sorry,” I say. I can’t even imagine what he went through after the hearing loss. One day everything is okay and the next he’s adjusting to his new life. “That must have been hard for you and your family.”