Page 32 of Sight Unseen

There was a muffled shout from down the hall. “Getting there. Be out in a moment.” He sounded normal, not like a man who’d been spied on during an intimate act.

I sagged with relief. I hadn’t been noticed. He hadn’t sensed me watching him or smelled my cologne. However, in case he caught a trace of it when he came out from the en-suite shower I stood in the hallway close to his bedroom and yelled back, waving my arms about, making sure my armpits sent out a scent signal. “It’s getting cold, don’t be long.”

I could be a manipulative sneaky bastard when the situation warranted it.

The oven needed to be turned on to warm through breakfast. I unpacked the pretzels and popped them in on a baking tray. I made coffee, showing all the semblance of normalcy and not that of a man who’d only minutes ago watched his best friend jacking off, which caused me to blow my load.

Five minutes later, Nate appeared, toweling his thick, curling hair. He stood in the kitchen, dressed in loose sweatpants and a tight tee that showed off his toned body. I tended to ogle Nate a lot more now since he couldn’t see me doing it.

“I’m warming up the food. Won’t be long.”

He flashed a warm smile in my direction and threw the towel on the kitchen counter. His hair curled in licks of dark brown against his cheeks, and he raised a hand and absently tucked a strand behind his ear. Remembering what I’d watched him do, I swallowed and looked away. My groin still tingled.

“Sorry about yesterday, it was a catastrophe,” I confessed as I opened the oven door to check the food. “I really wanted to spend some time with you, see how you were doing what with, you know, Jon leaving.”

Nate gave a deep sigh. “I’m doing okay. It’s a little weird being here on my own after a year living with someone, but I guess I’ll have to get used to it.”

He reached out, searching for a kitchen stool. I watched as he found one, pulled it out from under the counter and perched his ass on it. He reached into his pocket and drew out his phone, placing it on the counter. He’d bought one of those special cell phones Suzanne had recommended. It was simple and basic but did everything that a visually impaired person needed. It was also his lifeline if he got lost or fell. Both Suzanne and I were programmed in as emergency contacts.

God, it had only been a few months and Nate was doing so well at managing his blindness. I was so damned proud of him for not letting it take him over and for him not giving in to the darkness. The man was an inspiration.

“Have I told you lately you’re my hero?” I said as I took out the warmed food from the oven.

“I am?” Nate said in amusement. “How come?

I stood and took in his brown eyes filled with affection. Nate never looked over my shoulder or at my chest as I’d seen happen with some blind people.

Nate always seemed to see straight into my soul.

“Because despite life throwing you this ugly curveball, you’re coping as best as you can, and in my opinion, you’re doing one hell of a job. I mean, you’re not bitter—much,” I qualified that as there were the odd times he got down about his lack of sight, “you try so damn hard to be you. That’s really cool, dude.”

Nate’s face flushed. He looked pleased, but I knew there was some sort of self-deprecating remark coming. “Oh yeah? Thanks, bud. I don’t have a choice, though, do I?” He pursed his pink lips. “This is the hand I’ve been dealt and I have to learn to live with it. I’m lucky I have you and Suzanne. You guys are the ones who keep spurring me on. I feel I can get anywhere if you’re both around.”

I noticed he hadn’t mentioned Jon. I thought now was a good time to bring that up. “And Jon—how do you really feel about him going?” I asked as I placed Nate’s breakfast in front of him and nudged his hand. “Plate in front, coffee at one o’clock.”

I sat next to him and took a sip of coffee.

Nate’s fingers toyed with the handle of his coffee mug. “Like I said yesterday, I knew something was going on. Things hadn’t been the same between us and Jon slowly drew away.” He sighed and picked up his pretzel. “It was like a boat in the water, slowly drifting out of reach until it was so far gone you couldn’t catch it anymore.” His voice held both relief and resignation. He took a bite of his breakfast and we sat in silence for a bit.

A few minutes later the silence was broken by Nate’s phone ringing. The phone announced the caller in a robotic monotone as Jon Roland. Nate ignored it and carried on eating.

“I don’t feel like talking to him,” he said softly amidst chews. “He’s made his decision. We’ve nothing to talk about anymore.”

One of Nate’s sometimes less endearing traits was the fact that when he made his mind up about something, there was no changing it. He was the most stubborn man I’d ever met, and we’d had plenty of disagreements over the years because for him it was either black or white. There was no gray in his world. It was also probably the reason he was coping with being blind far better than I thought I would ever do. He’d done the same thing when his family had kicked him out.

Nate flapped a hand in my direction, a hand covered with oil from the pretzel. “So what’s on the agenda for today? Have I got more blood and gore beach excitement to look forward to?”

Deep breath. I’d planned this carefully and I wasn’t sure how it was going to play out. I hoped I wasn’t about to get thumped with a cane by this stubborn man. But I had to try.

It was time Nate got his head out of his ass about this particular topic.

“Actually, I do have something different planned. And for the first part of it, we don’t even have to go far.”

Nate’s ears seemed to perk up. “That sounds interesting. Tell me more.”

“Well,” I drawled, “I was at the gallery and I met this guy.”

Nate’s eyes narrowed. “You met a guy. You mean, like an ‘I’m going on a date’ guy? How is that relevant to me?” There was a bite in his tone.