I hate that I cried. But it was so perfect. It was him and me, and we made something so beautiful. I’ve had orgasms before—self-manipulated—but I’ve never had anyone studying my movements to find out what feels good to me, and I know that’s what he’d been doing. He analyzed me and adjusted, making it as good for me as possible. And it was amazing. But there was something missing. If I just knew what it was.
The only people I have ever allowed into my life are my sisters and Marta and Emilio. Everyone else is a casual acquaintance. I don’t get close to anyone, because I have always worried that if I do, I’ll lose them. I’ll do something stupid and they’ll be gone. So the fact that I’m feeling so deeply for Ryan after such a short time is scaring the hell out of me. I don’t want to mess it up.
I wrap a towel around myself and open the door. The bedroom door is open and he’s gone, so I step into the room. I open his drawer and see a neatly folded pile of t-shirts. I pull one out and pull it down over my head. It hangs down almost to my knees. Then I go to find Ryan.
I find him in the middle of the living room. The lights are dim and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. I cover my mouth with my hand because he’s lighting candles. That’s just about the sweetest thing I ever saw.
He looks up and his face softens when he sees me. “I thought maybe we could talk,” he says.
“Ok.”
“Are you hungry?”
“No.”
He bustles around lighting more candles. “Do you want to take a hot bath? I heard it helps with…” He motions below his waist, his cheeks reddening. “…that.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He really looks worried, and I feel bad that I caused him to feel like this.
“Yes. I’m sure.”
He sits down on the couch and pats the spot beside him. I sit down and he lifts my feet, pulling my shins across his lap. He uses one hand to massage my legs while he talks with the other. “When I was twelve, I decided that I wanted a cochlear implant,” he suddenly says.
“You did? Really?”
He nods. “A few of the kids at school had gotten them, and I wanted one too.”
“You didn’t get it, did you?” I look at his ears.
He shakes his head. “No. My parents wouldn’t allow it. They told me I could do whatever I want when I turned eighteen and could pay for it myself.”
“Why didn’t they want you to have one?” I lean back against the arm of the couch and get comfortable.
“Both my parents are deaf. My grandparents are deaf. It’s part of who we are. It would be like changing the color of my skin or the color of my eyes, to them. I wouldn’t be who I am anymore.”
“Did you agree with them?”
“Not immediately. But with time, I grew more comfortable.”
“Do you think about getting one now?”
“Never.”
“Really?”
He shakes his head. “Never.” He winces. “I think that’s why they would prefer for me to date a deaf girl, since we would come from similar cultures.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Dating?”
“Well, today we had sex, so I’d say yes.” His cheeks flush. “Unless you don’t want to date.” He pretends to look offended. “Did you just use me for a booty call?” But I can tell that there’s a little part of him that wants a serious answer.
“I didn’t use you for a booty call,” I confirm.
He snaps his fingers and says, “Damn. I was going to brag to all the guys.”
He says nothing else for a moment, so I say, “I think we’re all more than the color of our skin or the color of our eyes. More than our hearing status. More than our culture. Do you think it would be easier if you made a family with someone who is deaf?”
“Maybe.” He rocks his head side to side. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you want a family? Kids?”
He nods. “I do. And I know you do.”
“I do.” I smile. “I always have.”
“What would you do if you couldn’t play music anymore?”
I shrug. “I have no idea.”
“What do you play?”
“Piano. Keyboard. Whatever.” I brush his question out of the air. I feel funny talking about music since he can’t relate to it. “Do you like music?”
“I don’t dislike it.” He shrugs.
“Were you ever jealous because Mick could hear?”
He chuckles. “No. But he was jealous that he wasn’t deaf.”