Page 17 of Always Watching
Remembering that North is in the kitchen waiting for me, I pull on some clothes and almost cheer when I find the overly large sunglasses Olly brought back from the Dominican Republic when he went on a sponsored trip. They’ll hide my black eye and the cut above my nose.
Once I’m decent, I step out of the room, spotting North on the couch with his laptop open, his eyebrows dipped. “Everything okay?” I ask. He looks like he’s concentrating on something.
“Yeah,” he says, dragging his eyes away from the computer. When they land on me, his gaze becomes intense, and it’s almost like he freezes as he looks at me.
“What?” I ask, pulling at the sleeves of my shirt. I know it’s warm outside, but he knows what I look like underneath it.
He shakes his head and walks over to me. North pulls my glasses off, his hand hovering in the space between us before thumbing under my black eye. “You shouldn’t have to wear these, but you look good. This is a good color on you.”
I look down at the shirt that almost matches the blue of my eyes, and I smile. “Thanks. My grandpa got it for me.”
“Your grandpa. Does he live nearby?”
A lump forms in my throat. “No. He uh…he’s gone. He died.” Before he can offer condolences, I change the subject. “What were you looking at so intently on your computer?”
North searches my face, probably trying to figure out why I want a sudden change in conversation. I can’t talk about my grandpa. He’s the only person who had my back without wanting anything in return. He’s part of the reason I started camming.
I’d needed money to pay for his nursing home, that coupled as a rehabilitation center. After his dementia diagnosis, I wanted to make sure he was taken care of, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do it as well as a professional. So I started to cam, getting fast money to pay for his stay. Along the way, I discovered I loved it.
But only a year and a half after his diagnosis, he died. The doctor told me he’d been having a heart attack for days, but since he had dementia, he forgot he hadn’t told anyone. He said it was common among people with dementia and Alzheimer’s.
When I tell anyone about my grandpa, I get fake condolences and platitudes that I don’t really want to hear. And okay, I’m still not over his death, even years later. I don’t want to talk about him. Not right now. I’ll turn into a puddle of tears if I do.
After a few moments of staring, North nods and inclines his head towards his laptop. “I checked through your kitchen. You’re pretty stocked up, but you need milk, coffee, bread, eggs, oatmeal. I’m putting in an order at Super Foods Plus. We can get breakfast and pick the groceries up when we’re finished.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He sits back in front of his laptop and I head into the kitchen. I don’t have coffee, but I have tea, so I put the kettle on and pull a few tea bags out of my cupboard. “You know,” I say, raising my voice so he can hear me. “I went shopping a few weeks ago at Super Foods Plus, just before I heard the report of that cashier being abducted. I wonder if they found him.”
North says, “I heard about that. Sad.”
“It is.” I move the kettle from the eye of the stove when it starts to whistle and make two cups of tea. Then I bring one to North and sit on the couch, and wait for him to finish his grocery order.
After a few minutes of silence, I ask, “What’s your story, North?”
“Right to the questions, hm?” he says, glancing over at me with a grin. “I’m North Sinclair. I’m local to the area. My dad and I work construction here in town, and I have an older brother but he lives out of state.”
“What’s that like? Having a brother?” I’m an only child, so I’m not sure if having a sibling is as much fun as movies and TV shows make it seem.
North looks up from the computer and narrows his eyes. “It’s… complicated. We have a good relationship, but it’s… distant. He chose not to stay in the family business, which I don’t like, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“You’re not close?” I ask, wrapping both hands around my tea cup, soaking up all the information North is giving me.
He shrugs, pushes a few buttons on his keyboard, then shuts the laptop. “We’re notnotclose. We have… a lot in common, but he still chose to put as much distance between us as he could.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, though I’m not sure why.
“It’s fine. I have my dad. I think he’s more than enough.”
I laugh, thinking about Atlas. “Your dad is a flirt. He was hitting on my nurse.”
North’s eyebrows jack up to his hairline. “Your nurse was a guy.”
“Yeah, is that a problem?” North didn’t strike me as the homophobic type. Hell, I’m getting serious vibes from him that he might be into me, but I’ve been wrong before.
He gives me a dry look. “No. I’m gay, so why would that be a problem?” I shrug. “Dad’s never been in a serious relationship outside of my mother. I’ve never even known him to look in a man’s direction. It’s a shock, that’s all.” I let out the breath that was trapped in my chest. “Now,” North says, holding his hands out to me. I grab them, allowing him to haul me up. “Let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”
We head out, North opening the car door for me and settling me into the passenger seat. I feel my cheeks heat under his attention and I curse my pale skin, knowing he sees my blush. Thankfully, he doesn’t call me out.
When North gets in the car and starts it up, I turn down the radio and start in on more questions. “How old are you?”
