Page 42 of Sight Unseen

There was the usual flurry of female good-byes, tracking down handbags and popping to the toilet. We stood up to leave and Blu reached over for a hug.

“Is it okay to kiss you?” he murmured.

Fuck yes.

I nodded. His lips found mine, his breath beer-scented, and I closed my eyes as he kissed me. There was no rabid entry into my mouth, simply a hint of tongue and he was gone, leaving me wanting more. It seemed to be the bastard’s modus operandi.

After he released me and exhaled a breath, I opened my eyes.

Some guy in the room called out, “Hot kiss, man, do it again.”

Blu let out a loud laugh. “If you think that’s hot wait ’til Saturday.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “We have a date.”

“Ooh, a date. I knew you two would hit it off.” Suzanne punched my arm. “Okay, lover boy, let’s get going. Blu, lovely to meet you. No doubt I’ll see you around.”

I managed to say good-bye to Blu before my hand was grasped, placed on Suzanne’s arm and I was manoeuvred through the crowd once more.

Despite my earlier reservations, tonight had been good. I’d made a new friend, a potential lover and had a good time.

What more could I want?

Chapter 8

Cody

It sucked being a coward. My cell phone rang again and I glanced down at it guiltily.

Nate Powell calling.

I ignored it, as I had the previous calls the past few days. So it didn’t look as if I was ignoring him completely, I’d briefly texted Nate back, telling him work was busy and I had some things to sort out so I’d be in touch. It was easier than hearing his voice or details of his evening at the nightclub with another man.

It had been a bad few days. I hadn’t been lying to Nate. Work had been frantically busy, and a shipment of surreal canvas paintings from a young artist known only as Ug had gone missing. Rachel and I had finally tracked it down to an art gallery on the other side of town. The delivery guys had fucked up again. I’d already instructed Rachel to find another service.

I’d also learned from my older sister Jess that my mom had gone into the hospital for some tests. The words “checking for breast cancer” had been said quickly, as if dwelling on it would make it true. Jess had sounded scared.

My dad had tried to sound upbeat, but I’d heard the fear in his voice. My mom was his world; she was mine too, and I didn’t want to think about what might be happening. I’d offered to go home and be with them, despite the fact I had an event and it wouldn’t look good if I wasn’t there, but I was prepared to do it.

My dad had talked me out of it, saying it wasn’t necessary, it was tests, and anyway it was all going to be fine. It was only a precaution.

I hoped so.

Ordinarily I’d be lamenting on Nate’s shoulder, letting him know what was going on in the Fisher family. They were his family too, and he’d want to know. But not right now. I’d asked Jess and my dad not to tell him just yet. Why have him worry over something that might not be bad news? He had enough on his plate.

The pictures on Suzanne’s Facebook page of Nate cozying up to some gorgeous guy in a nightclub, some man with a killer smile, a body I could only wish for, and a thatch of messy dark brown hair, had made my stomach roil.

It wasn’t helped by the pictures of them kissing at the table. Nate had his eyes closed but the other man’s were wide open. Usually I would have found that hot but not this time. That was my Nate this guy was making a meal of.

Then seeing on the same post that Nate had a date with this guy tonight—his name was Blu and from the comments, both were looking forward to it—my spirits had ebbed lower and I’d shut Facebook the hell down.

Obviously, Nate was moving on. I was a little surprised it was so soon because Nate was a slow-motion kind of guy. He deliberated everything before he did it. With a heavy heart, I guessed this other man was special enough for Nate to dive in to dating right away.

God, I was such a hypocrite. I hadn’t exactly been a sexless hermit.

I stared out at the sea, watching the surfers and swimmers. Manhattan Beach was my favorite place to watch them. Since they’d built that damn breakwater at Long Beach, the waves had disappeared and the once-named “Waikiki of the West Coast” surf paradise was now a memory. I hated what they’d done to my coastline.

Someone kicked sand in my face and I shouted, “Hey! Watch what you’re doing, asshole.”

My friend Dev plonked himself down next to me, an amiable shit-eating grin on his face. “Hey, surfer boy, what’s happening?”