Page 20 of Sight Unseen

I tried valiantly to clamp down the memories I had of his lean, muscled physique, honed from years of surfing and swimming, golden skinned, and lean muscles. I wondered if he still tasted the same—sun-kissed, coconut and vanilla scent from the suntan oil he used and musky male.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my wayward thoughts.

Shit. Where the fuck did that come from?

“Speaking of exercise, are you ever going to run again?” Cody’s voice came from my left. “Maybe one day we can go out together, if you want to get back into it?”

Bile flooded my mouth, thankfully taking the tantalising thoughts of Cody’s naked body from my mind. “No, I don’t want to venture out onto the road ever again, even with someone. I did my last running the night that car hit me.”

“Okay then, I’ll say no more about it. What about surfing?” Cody’s hand brushed mine. “If I took you out on a board, you think you might like to do that again sometime? I promise I’ll look after you. I won’t let you float away to China. Or get eaten by a giant jellyfish.”

Despite my dampened mood, I smiled. “Maybe one day. It might be fun.”

“That’s a date, then.” Cody squeezed my shoulder. “Right, food time. I’m hungry.” Cody hesitated. “You need any help finding the kitchen?”

I shook my head. “I can get there on my own. I’m slowly learning what direction to go in once I get my bearings, how many steps it is to where I need to be. It’ll take time but it’s getting there.”

“Good.” Cody’s voice was soft. “I’m glad you’re not letting this get you down. That’s my Nate.”

“His Nate”? In some ways, I supposed I was more Cody’s than Jon’s, who’d humphed at the endearment. I sighed. The boyfriend’s displeasure seemed a little out of place given his three-hour absence.

Resigned to a fragile peace, for the moment, I walked over to the kitchen and groped for a stool around the breakfast bar. I pulled it out, and sat as someone walked around to me.

“I plated you some food,” Jon said. A plate slid over in front of me. “It’s Mexican tonight. I got you a meat burrito and chilli cheese fries. You can eat it with your hands at least. Your beer is on the right, at about two o’clock to your plate. Don’t knock it over. Cody, yours is in the bag. There’s a selection of stuff, eat what you want. I’ve got mine already.”

Cody cleared his throat. “Thanks. By the way, that’s cool to use a clock to tell Nate where his stuff is. I’ll have to remember that.” I heard rustling from the bag on the kitchen counter to my left.

“Marty told me how to do it.” Jon’s voice was smug. “There’s lots of stuff that can help Nate, you might want to read up on it, though. It’s time-consuming making sure everything is easier for him.”

And there it was. The condescension I’d already noticed. Jon was inconvenienced to the degree that he needed to mention it any chance he got.

Way to make me feel like a useless prick, asshole.

I lost my appetite there and then and laid my burrito down, staring down at a plate I could no longer see.

“Yeah? I guess you have a lot of time on your hands though, so at least helping Nate keeps you busy.” Cody’s tone was even but I heard the bite in it.

“What do you mean by that?” Jon asked frostily.

Knowing Cody as I did, he probably eye-rolled. “You haven’t gotten a job in a while, your model shoots seem to be sporadic. The last one you did was about a month ago, for the underwear company, wasn’t it? Anything happen since then?”

Cody must be past pissed to be bitchy; it wasn’t his style. He knew the answer already. We’d already discussed it before the accident—Jon had been worried he was getting too old for modeling shoots, and the dearth of work the past few months had made him more insecure than usual.

There was a heavy silence that I tried to ignore, picking up the burrito I didn’t want and biting into it. Juice trickled down my chin and I wiped it away with my hand.

Jon swore and a napkin was thrust into my hand. “Here. Wipe your mouth.”

“Jesus, Jon, you are such an asshole,” Cody snarled. “He’s not a kid, don’t talk to him like that. Do you always have to put him down?”

“I’m not putting him down; I’m simply trying to help—” Jon spluttered.

I stood up violently, my stool clattering to the ground.

“Enough,” I shouted. “I’m here in the room, I don’t need you two having a pissing contest over me. What the fuck is wrong with the both of you?”

As was his way, Cody was the first to apologize. “Sorry, Nate. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was out of line.” His stool scraped as he pushed it back. “I’d better be getting off, anyway, let you two have some space. I’m sorry we made you feel bad, man. It wasn’t the intention.”

I wanted to tell him not to go but I couldn’t get the words out. My heart beat rapidly and I swallowed down bile.