I’ve never considered myself shy, yet as I linger on the step, staring at the three of them, I feel a bit coy and misplaced, too fake to be in their presence. I start to back away, but through the noise and smoke, they notice me.

The guy who took my journal pages stands up straight, his gaze quickly drinking me in from my head to my toes. Heat and desire spread through my body in a way they never have before. Every time I’m near him, I feel like I’m burning up in the best way possible.

“Can I help you?” the girl asks, tearing my attention away from the quiet guy.

“Um, I’m your new neighbor. I live upstairs.” I point over my shoulder toward the stairway.

Her head falls to the side as she studies me. “Didn’t I see you the other day at cheerleading tryouts?”

“Yeah, maybe. I mean, I was there.” I clear my throat, attempting to alleviate my nerves. “Were you there trying out? I’m not sure I saw you.”

She barks a laugh. “Fuck no. I’d rather be caught in my underwear than succumbing to society’s sexist views on women being placed on the sidelines, cheering the men on.”

The brown haired guy coughs into his hand, covering a laugh. “Now, Violet, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy coming to my games and cheering me on.”

“I come only for you,” she retorts. “And I don’t parade around in a short skirt.”

His eyes scroll over her torn T-shirt and short shorts. “No, you just parade around here with your ass hanging out of your shorts.” To prove his point, he reaches around and pinches her ass.

“Hey, how I dress right now is how I want to dress,” she replies hotly with her hands on her hips, “not because someone told me I had to.”

Their gazes lock as if silently challenging each other. I’m guessing Violet wins because the brown haired guy releases a loud exhale then turns to me.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse my girlfriend. She gets a bit intense.” He laughs when she swats his arm then says to me, “So you just moved in?”

“Yeah, about a week ago.” I stick out my hand. “I’m Emery.”

All three of them stare, as if I’m some strange creature they’ve never seen before.

I start to pull away—apparently formal handshakes aren’t what normal people do—but then the brown haired guy slips his hand into mine. “I’m Luke,” he nods his head at the girl, “and this feisty thing right here is Violet.”

I smile at her, even though her withering stare makes me want to shrink back. “It’s nice to meet you, Violet.”

She doesn’t say anything back, merely evaluates me with her brow arched.

When Luke releases my hand, the quiet guy steps forward and threads his fingers through mine. A million butterflies come to life in my stomach. My heart dances. My pulse throbs. My lungs ache. I can barely breathe, his gaze is so powerful.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think you’ve ever told me your name.” I sound breathless, but I can’t collect myself.

I wait for him to tell me who he is, millions of names swarming through my head, beautiful names, the kind composed in songs that will fit his striking appearance. Because, he has to say something to me this time, right? Especially with his friends around.

But his lips never part. Instead, he turns to Violet and his hands move through the air.

“Tell her my name’s Ryler,” he signs to her.

Suddenly, every encounter we’ve had makes sense. No wonder he hasn’t said anything to me. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out, especially since I grew up with Ellis. Whenever he had one of his episodes, usually after a long night, he refused to speak. The only way I could communicate with him was to sign.

I wonder if it’s because of the scars on his neck.

Ryler looks apologetically at me as he waits for Violet to translate what he signed. I hesitate, almost playing along—playing the part I’m supposed to play—because I don’t want to be reminded of my past and why I know sign language. But I also want to communicate with him.

Summoning a breath, I lift my hand and sign to him, “It’s nice to meet you, Ryler.”

His head jerks back, his brown eyes wide and filled with surprise. Then his brows furrow, and he stares at me again, only this time, it’s different. This time, he seems even more intrigued.

With his eyes locked on mine, his hands elevate. “You know sign language?”

I nod and begin creating a lie for when he asks how I learned to sign and why.

“You don’t need to sign to me. I can hear you. I just can’t speak,” he signs.

I let a breath of relief ease from my lips.

He didn’t ask.

So I don’t have to explain everything.

I smile. “Okay.”

He smiles back at me. “I like the sound of your voice. It reminds me of one of my favorite songs.”

A soft, nervous laugh escapes my lips. Is he flirting with me? The idea makes the butterflies in my stomach dance.

“Smooth, Romeo, real smooth.” Luke pats Ryler on the shoulder as Violet chokes on a laugh. “We’re heading inside to get ready for the poker game.” His gaze slides to me. “You’re more than welcome to join us if you want.” He glances at Violet.

She shrugs. “I don’t care who you invite, just as long as she doesn’t turn out like Haven.”

Ryler’s eyes widen, and then he and Luke exchange a look. I really want to find out what Haven did because, by their worried expressions, I’m guessing it had to be something bad, but I can’t work up the courage to pry.