Page 38 of Sight Unseen

“It’s almost nine p.m. How long have you been down here?” Suzanne brushed something off my cheek. “You’re covered in bits of clay. You’re probably going to want a shower.”

Once again I ignored her, and made a few small adjustments to my creation. Then I sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Huh. I think I came down here about lunchtime? Not sure.” I grinned tiredly. “No idea when day starts and night begins, you know? I get a bit lost with it all.”

I stood and grimaced as my knees cracked and my lower back complained. I supposed begging off was a no-no. She’d been looking forward to it.

In the confines of the studio, she smelled good; her favorite perfume, White Linen, filled the room with notes of summer rose and violets. It drifted like a soft breeze over the earthier scent of clay, sweat and the coffee I’d been drinking. “Uhm, I don’t suppose we could, like, do this whole club thing another day? Because I’m really tired and—”

My plea was cut off by the soft press of a fragranced finger to my lips. “Uh, no. We’re going. You need to get out and live a little, and I’ve been looking forward to all those hot, sweaty dancing bodies. Plus, friends are meeting me there to say hi. So, no. You committed, baby.”

She slapped my rear and I moved out the way. “So get yourself dressed up, put on your dancing shoes and let’s make a move.”

“I doubt I’ll be doing any damn dancing,” I grumbled as I locked up and we made our way up the footpath to the house. “I didn’t dance much when I could see, so why should I start now?” My favorite pastime when I’d gone to clubs with Jon had been people watching. I got off on the writhing bodies and the dynamics of people trying to hook up. Some of their dance moves had found their way into my sculpture. Now, I guessed I’d have to imagine their interactions and drink in their movements through the smell of testosterone, sexual arousal, semen and sweat.

Hmmm. Going to the club was beginning to sound like not such a bad idea. I grinned when she bopped my hip with hers.

“Shoo, grumpy. Go shower, and I’ll wait for you.”

I showered and dressed in whatever I could find that I thought would constitute “clubbing clothes.” I was finding the safety pin thing a great addition to my day-to-day life. I hadn’t yet gone to the trouble of ironing little Braille tags with the letters denoting color onto my clothes. I spent a lot of money on safety pins.

I found a tight black tee shirt, and teamed it with a loose fitting, soft burgundy button-down with long sleeves that I rolled up to my elbows. I put on my tightest jeans, because I was a little curious about whether I’d be able to attract someone, and my favorite pair of black combat boots. It was an easy choice. I only had two pairs of boots and three pairs of shoes and every pair felt different.

I hoped I looked as good as I thought I did and was gratified to learn I’d done myself proud when I made my way into the family room.

“Oh my God,” Suzanne squealed as I walked in. “You are so going to get the guys hot tonight. You look like sex on a stick.”

I chuckled. “Good to know. Let’s hope the guys think so too instead of just seeing a blind guy.” Suzanne’s breath hitched and I frowned. “What, is it too much?”

“No.” Her voice was hesitant. “I hadn’t thought—you do want to do this, right? Meet someone new?”

I was bemused. “I guess. Why?”

My cock needed some sort of release soon. I was tired of jacking off and tired of my Fleshjack or sticking a dildo up my ass. It’d be nice to have some real live human one-on-one action once I had gotten to know another man.

“It’s only, you know, I thought…” Her voice trailed off. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.”

Now I was burning with curiosity. “Woman, for God’s sake, spit it out. What did you think?”

“You’ll be mad,” she said in a small voice, and I felt like shit that somehow I had made her feel bad.

“Sweetheart, I could never be mad at you. Haven’t we become good friends?” There was silence. I scowled. “What now? We’re not friends, and you have to think about that statement?”

“No,” she said hurriedly. “We are friends. Definitely.” Her next words came out in a rush. “And so is Cody. You know, the guy who’s always there for you?”

Ah. So that’s where this was going. I should have known that someone as astute as Suze had picked up on my growing attraction to Cody. I obviously hadn’t hidden it as well as I’d thought.

Shit, I hope no one else has noticed. I need to head this off at the pass, quick.

“Suze. Cody and I are good friends, but just friends.” The words sounded hollow even to me. You’re going to hell for that lie, Nate Powell. Deep down, you know he’s more than that. “Yeah, sure we spend a lot of time together. But we’re not romantically involved. Anyway, he’s seeing Dev now, they seem to have hooked up again.”

My chest tightened. I’d heard via our mutual grapevine that Dev had become something more than an occasional bump-and-grind in Cody’s life. The pang of whatever the hell it was that went through me when I thought of Cody and Dev together was unwarranted and yet I begrudged Cody his relationship. Dev, with his pitch black hair, winning smile and blue eyes, who could see, who could surf with Cody anytime he wanted and it didn’t take a mission to arrange an outing so he could go out on a board and still be safe.

I liked Dev, which made it worse.

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t know he was seeing someone.”

“They’ve been on and off fuck buddies, but lately they seem to be seeing a lot more of each other. I guess time will tell.” I swallowed down the sudden tightness in my throat and went to fetch my stick. “Anyway enough about Cody’s sex life. I need to get back to sorting out my own. Shall we go?”

***