Slowly, a rooster began to come to life on Andrew’s skin, all puffed feathers and swagger. I was so invested in my drawing that I missed the door to the art room opening. What I didn’t miss was the sound of a familiar voice. I looked up abruptly and sure as shit, there was my neighbor, talking to Mike.
If my world had been rocked when I’d tried to apologize to him last week, it was threatening to topple completely now. Gordo was not in his typical old t-shirt and messy hair. Instead, he was rocking tailored pants that were fitted enough to leave my mouth dry. The button-down shirt he had on was hugging his muscles like a car hugs curves, promising danger and exhilaration.
What was Gordo doing here? It should have felt invasive, having a part of my life that was new and undefined invading something as sacred as the center was, but I felt only nerves and a smidge too much elation. I hadn’t seen him since the day I’d stammered out the world’s most pathetic apology and then abruptly left, the potted plant I’d picked up for him totally forgotten.
Well, that wasn’t true that I hadn’t seen him at all—I’d spotted him occasionally as he put Giuliana in her car seat to drive somewhere, paying too much attention to his well-shaped ass and broad shoulders. I didn’t want to be creepy watching from afar, but I sure as hell didn’t want him to be reminded of my stutter and how awkward I was with new people by going over to say hi.
Biting my lip, I resigned myself to ignore the distraction and finish Andrew’s rooster. But then Mike called me over. I signed to Andrew that it would be a minute and shoved all the confusion over Gordo’s appearance in my sanctuary down, down where it couldn’t surface.
I walked over, wiping sweaty palms on my jeans.
“Javi, this is Gordon Black. He’ll be helping us revamp our website and brand. Gordon, Javi is one of our best volunteers.”
Well, shit. That meant I’d be seeing even more of him, and his continued presence at the center meant I’d have to fight constantly to keep the rattle of my heart under wraps. There was no more room in my ego for rejection, and I wasn’t willing to tarnish the center’s place in my life by getting stupid over a guy here.
I reached over and shook Gordo’s hand. The move pulled attention to the deep V of my shirt and Gordo’s eyes locked onto my tattoos. I knew he’d seen some of them before, but I realized he must not have understood the extent of them when his face twisted into something I assumed was surprise, and I wondered if he saw what so many people did.
Thug, criminal, lowlife, punk. Someone you wouldn’t let near your home or your daughter—certainly not your heart. While I was used to shock and staring from others and had cultivated a fuck-it attitude toward it, the frown that tugged at Gordo’s mouth made my confidence falter. It was a gut punch, the judgment leaving me winded and wounded, even more so for how unexpected it was.
But after the parties, I knew he must be seeing all my tattoos and assuming the worst about me. Disappointment soured in my chest as I realized he wasn’t the open-minded man I’d fantasized him to be. Gordo’s appearance and fast judgment of me had left me stung and faltering. I’d worked hard over the years to not second-guess myself, to stay armored at all times. It’s why I had the shield tattooed over my heart.
Before my heart could sink too much, though, a noise grabbed my attention. Andrew was hunkered down, trying to finish the rooster I’d started. The frustrated noises coming from him were a welcome distraction.
“Excuse m...m-me,” I said, managing to keep my stutter to a minimum.
I went over to Andrew, tapping his shoulder again to get his attention. Then I signed that I’d show him how to finish it. When I pulled out my chair, I looked up and saw that Gordo had joined us, sitting at the other end of the table. I’d needed the space and distraction of Andrew to piece myself together, but instead, it felt as if Gordo was moving closer.
He was like gravity, demanding my attention, but I resisted—though not without effort. Even with the force of Gordo’s attention on me, I refused to let him distract me from Andrew. Kids like Andrew got used to people dismissing them, especially adults, and I wouldn’t be another in a long line of them.
It took a combination of patient signing and trial and error, but before long, Andrew had the fundamentals of the shading down. He was working some color into the rooster, giving it depth and life as I watched, my heart singing with pride.
At the last stroke of red, Andrew threw down the marker and shouted, thrilled by his accomplishment. And I had to admit, the kid was talented. He’d picked up my tips and put them to use like a natural. But the icing on the cake was when Andrew turned and thanked me. Not with his hands, but with his voice.
“This is great. Thanks so much, Javi.”
When his mom came in a few minutes later, the buzz hadn’t worn off for Andrew yet. He showed off his mock-tattoo, pointing out the parts he’d done himself. He was so animated, and his mom’s stunned, wide-eyed stare told me all I needed to know about how things had been at home.
I didn’t miss him showing off to Gordo, as well. It made me suck in a breath, unsure of how to react. But Andrew’s mom saved me by clapping and complimenting her son, effusive in her praise of his work. After a few more minutes, she sent Andrew out to the car and came over to me.
“I—” She started, but a tear escaped one eye and she paused to dash it away. “He’s been so angry. For weeks. This is the first time he’s smiled in so long.”
She pulled me in for a hug, brief but firm. When she stepped back, her smile was as large and infectious as Andrew’s. “Thank you for being so good with my son.”
“S...s-s-s… It’s fine.” I bit off the answer as my stutter seemed to be taking charge of my mouth. I’d just wanted to say sure thing—why did simple things like that have to be so difficult for me?
It was hard to choke down my irritation with myself and give Andrew’s mom a smile and a nod. She was in just as hard a space as he was, having to deal with a moody teenager in addition to his disability, which could make everyday activities a challenge.
I waited until she’d left before daring to look over at Gordo, not knowing what to expect. But what I saw when we locked gazes stopped me in my tracks.
Gordo was looking at me like he’d never seen me before.
5
Gordo
It had taken all of my courage to apply for this job solo. The local youth center was having a hard time fundraising and was eager for a revamp—new logo, new brand, new chance at snagging the money they needed to stay open. Branching out from the firm that had been my home for most of my career didn’t exactly feel like a betrayal, as turnaround in my field was common, but it was scary as hell to think of the risk I was taking at trying to be my own boss while Giuliana was just a baby.
This was supposed to be an easy job, a good way to ease into freelance work, and the job had fallen into my lap. I’d seen a call for volunteers in the local paper and the center’s brand was… well, it was shit. Definitely the kind of low budget home brew that spoke of a place with tight funds, and I knew it wasn’t going to be winning the center any favors as they tried to bring in donations.