15. Chapter Fifteen
Chapter fifteen
Nash
“Did you learn something new?” Carter asks as we walk down the few steps to the sidewalk. There’s an urgency to his voice that I haven’t heard before, and it immediately has me thinking something is wrong.
But what? He was fine just a moment ago, and now… something is wrong. Maybe he’s just worried that I have bad news since I showed up unannounced. It’s my fault. I should have told him instead of showing up out of the blue like this.
“No, not exactly. I have my team re-interviewing the businesses in the area, but nothing has come up yet.”
He nods. “So, you really did want to take up reading?”
I smirk. “Maybe. How far is this place we’re going to?” I ask.
“Just another block. Have you eaten lunch yet?”
“It’s too early for lunch,” I say.
“Normally, I’d agree with you, but my boss is hungry and I slept like shit. When that happens, all I want to do is eat.”
“It’s your body’s way of getting the energy it needs.”
“I assumed as much. Annoying though. I just wish it was easier to sleep.”
“I understand that all too well.”
He looks up at me, his eyes bright in the sun. It’s fooling us all though. Out and bright, but it’s cold as hell over here. I’m not a fan of the summer; I get uncomfortable in the heat, but I’ll take spring and fall any day.
“Have you always had problems sleeping, or just after…”
“After my parents. Trauma will do that to you. It really fucks with your head.”
“I hoped therapy would help, but I don’t think it is.”
“You keep going for a reason.” He doesn’t say anything. “What’s that reason?”
Carter thinks about it for a moment as we walk side by side, dodging people bustling to get to where they’re going. The city is loud all the time, a different kind of noise than is in Chicago. It’s strange the way two major cities are so much the same yet so different.
“I like having a safe place to talk about Ryan. It makes some part of me feel good; I just don’t think it’s doing anything to heal me.”
“Healing is… tricky.”
“That’s one word for it.” We stop in front of a café with a blue and white awning above the door and gold lettering on the window. Carter pulls open the door. I shake my head, hold it open, and gesture for him to go inside with a roll of my eyes.
Smirking, he does, and we get into the line.
“So what have you done?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“For what?” I ask.
“Healing.”
I don’t want to lie to the guy, but if I tell him the truth, he’s going to think I’m nuts. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe it’ll make him feel better.
“I am just really good at hiding my wounds,” I say.
“I can’t imagine that being good. If you don’t take care of them, they get worse.”
“So I’ve heard. Yet, here I am. Still the same.”
“Until one day… you’re not.”
I’m not really sure what to say to that, so I say nothing. I bring my attention to the menu instead.
“You’re not paying for this,” Carter says. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Too late. I already did.”
“Well, you’re not.”
“Fine. But I’m only getting a coffee.”
“Then we’ll just have to go out for lunch again so I can make it up to you.”
After the words leave his mouth, he looks like he regrets them. I’m quick-thinking, and I save the situation so he doesn’t feel weird. The last thing I want is for this to be weird. I need his trust, not to make him uncomfortable—even if I’m not the one doing it.
“It’ll give us time to chat about the case. Good thinking.”
Is that disappointment in his eyes?
No.
Could it be?
Maybe.
It’s not.
Maybe he just wants a friend. I don’t know how to do that; I’ve never been anyone’s friend. But I guess I’ll try.
When it’s our turn, Carter orders food for himself and for his boss. I order my coffee and don’t try to pay, even though my hand is itching to do so. It’s just one of those things I do—have always done.
The walk back to the library is quicker than when we walked this way, and the warmth inside is welcome. There’s a comforting quiet in the building as people read or look for what they need. There is nothing loud about books. Except for some of these covers.
I can’t remember the last time I set foot in a library for a reason other than work. Middle school, maybe. When they brought us on a field trip to encourage reading. Much good that did.
“You okay?” Carter asks.
“Yeah, just thinking about how the last time I was in a library for something other than work was in middle school.”
“Wow, you can remember that far back?” He nudges me with his elbow.
I narrow my gaze. “I’m not that old.”
He grins as he makes his way to an older woman sitting behind the desk. She has kind eyes but a serious look on her face. Fitting for her position as a librarian, and I don’t usually give much thought to stereotypes. I’ve seen the nicest people do the most horrific things.
“Oh, you found a friend on the way. What a handsome man you are,” she says, smiling at me.
“Eileen, this is Detective Nash Bennett. He’s working on Ryan’s case. Ryan is my—”
“Yes, dear. Your boyfriend. You’ve mentioned him.”
She gives me a kind smile and offers her hand, so I shake it.
“You didn’t get any lunch?” she asks in a disapproving tone.
“Too early for lunch for me, ma’am.”
She shrugs, then takes the bag Carter offers.
“Why don’t you two go sit in the break room while you eat,” she suggests. “I’ll be fine up here, and if I need something, I’ll call you.”
“Thanks, Eileen.” Carter turns his attention on me. “Come on.”
I follow him to the opposite end of the main room we’re in, through a door that says employees only and we take a sharp left into a cozy room.
It’s a mix of a kitchen and living room, with little counter space, sink, and apartment sized fridge against one wall, and a couch, lamp, and end table on the other.
In the center is a small round table with three chairs.
Carter puts his bag on it, then looks at me.
All I can think about is how this room is bigger than his at home.
“I know you have coffee, but can I get you anything else?”
“I’m good.”
We sit at the table, and he opens his sandwich and begins to eat. I sip my coffee and try not to stare.
His hair is wavier today than it normally is, and I wonder why. Is that how he does it when he has work? Or am I only just noticing it?
The maroon, long-sleeved sweater he’s wearing fits him too perfectly, and there’s a small name tag pinned over his left pec with the library branch name in smaller letters. He has on jeans and light boots. Typical, casual outfit for a place like this.
“You good?” he asks, flicking his gaze to me.
“Yes. Why?”
“You’re staring.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but I say nothing. Because I’m not sorry, and I don’t like lying or saying things just because it’s socially expected.
Then I have the strangest need to tell him it’s because I’m enjoying what I’m looking at.
But that’s a sure-fire way to make things awkward and get me thrown off the case.
It’s been years since I noticed a man like that, and I’m not saying that I, in any way, want to have a relationship with Carter; I’m just acknowledging how attractive he is. That’s it. We’ve spent a lot of time together; how could I not notice? I have eyes.
“You’re not going to say anything?” he asks, reaching for a napkin.
“What’s to say?”
“I don’t know. Why are you staring?”
“Just thinking,” I say.
He nods as if it makes sense. I guess in a way it does, but it isn’t the full truth. But I can’t tell him what I’m really thinking and my thoughts don’t mean anything anyway. They can’t. They won’t.
It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone, and that’s all this is. Realizing how lonely I am because I’ve been spending a lot of time with an attractive man who keeps talking about love.
I’ve always been alone; it’s what I’m used to. But the loneliness doesn’t usually set in like this, yet it’s been creeping up slowly the last week or so.
New York is new to me. I have no friends, no family close by.
It’s just me. Maybe I should go check out a new bar or something.
See what’s out there. A casual hookup with someone wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done, and it also wouldn’t be the first time…
it’s just been a long time. But things don’t change.
Sex is always the same, and it’s something I can figure out with anyone.
It just doesn’t feel like the thing I want to do.
I’m too busy. I laugh to myself, recalling how this is exactly how my first conversation with Carter went.
“How’s your coffee?”
“Better than what’s at the office.”
“Were you really in the area?”
“No,” I admit.
He smiles. “I knew it. So why are you here then?”
“Honestly?”
He puts his sandwich down and sighs. “If there is anything you can do for me while we’re… for lack of a better word, working together, it’s being honest with me. Please, don’t lie to me about anything, even if you think it’s for my own good.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
“Thank you. Seriously.” He shifts in his seat, gaze still on mine. “I’ve had a lot of people treat me like I’ll break since Ryan, and though I am emotional, I’m not fragile. You aren’t one of those people though, and I really appreciate that.”
“I just know how I want to be treated and try to do the same for others.”
“You’re a smart man, Nash Bennett.”
He smiles, and I give him a small smile in return. I rest my hands on the table because my coffee is still too hot to drink.
“I just wanted to check on you after last night,” I admit.
“Right. I kind of forgot that I called you in a panic. Couldn’t just call me back?”
“I can’t see your face on the phone to tell if you were lying or not.”
“Fair.” He picks up his sandwich and takes another bite.
“So, how are you?”
Nodding, he chews and swallows, then says, “Tired. Hungry. Don’t really want to be here. A little sad. Shaken, maybe. But… not terrible.”
“Good. That’s good.”
“And how are you? Because I’d never guess you were up so late. You don’t even have bags under your eyes.”
“I’m really good at applying makeup.”
He smirks, his eyes shining. “Are you now?”
“Yes. It’s what I do in my spare time, actually. Even have one of those YouTube channels. It’s how I got rich.”
He’s laughing now, the sound sweet and soft. “It’s always the ones you never expect.”
Carter drinks some of his water, before taking the napkin to wipe his mouth.
“Honestly, though, I’m fine,” I say. “Same as always. Getting by. Doing my job.”
“You’re used to living like that, huh?”
“Like what?”
Shrugging, he says, “Avoiding everything around you. Losing yourself in work. Ignoring your feelings.”
“Feelings are messy.”
“But they can also be beautiful.”
I give him a smile. “Maybe I’d believe that if I saw it.”
“You’ve never been in love?” he asks.
It’s a heavy question. An intimate one. Not something you ask a stranger. But Carter and I aren’t strangers anymore and it doesn’t feel weird.
“The only people I’ve loved in my life are my parents and my brothers. One of them turned out to be the worst person I’ve ever met in my life. Another is gone. The other two have their own lives. So what’s the point?”
“Wow,” he says softly, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. That’s… really sad.”
“It’s life.”
“If I knew how Ryan and I would end when I first met him, I wouldn’t change anything,” he says solemnly.
“I mean, of course I’d stop it from happening if I could, but I’d still choose to meet him.
I’d still choose everything we had. I’d still choose to love him.
I miss him. And it hurts every day, but the love we had for each other…
it’s what keeps me going on the really hard days, because I know that there is good out there.
I know there are feelings other than the despair that nearly drowns me in the mornings when I wake up in an empty bed, or the deep sadness I feel when I look at the boxes stacked in my room.
All this pain comes from my love for him, and that only makes me think my love is stronger. Without love, you can’t have pain.”
“Maybe that’s why I feel nothing then. No love. No pain.”
He gives me a sad smile. “You say that like you’ve won something. No one wants to feel pain. I don’t want to feel pain. But sometimes it’s worth it to experience love.”
“I guess we have different ideas of the emotion.”
“Yeah, I guess we do. Besides… if you were all crazy in love with someone, I may not get all of your time, and you may not solve my boyfriend’s—late-boyfriend’s murder.”
“My misery is your benefit.”
He chuckles, which is a relief. I can be a bit morbid and come across as uncaring, but that’s not it at all. I’m glad he didn’t take offense to the joke.
“Tell me what you like to read, Nash,” he says with a sigh, as if he’s fed up with my shit. He hasn’t seen anything yet.
“Couldn’t begin to guess.”
“Maybe you could use a good romance. Something that’ll let you see two people fall in love and realize how strong it can be.”
“Or maybe I should read your most gruesome murder mystery so I can get better at my job.”
“Something tells me you’re already amazing.”
“Something tells me you’re a very smart man,” I say.
He grins, grabs his trash, and tosses it into the trash can.
“Let’s go find you something sappy, Detective.”
I follow him out of the room and listen to him babble on about all the different books I should try.
It would be the perfect opportunity to tell him I’m gay, not that it matters, but he’s showing me all sorts of straight romance, and I’m not sure that’ll hit the way he intends it to.
Though, I’m not sure it’ll hit at all, so I guess it doesn’t matter.
This is the moment I realize that I’m actually planning on reading this book.
Even though I’ve never finished a book in my life.
Not even when they were assigned in school.
It’s too hard to focus. But I’m going to try.
If I can’t, hopefully he forgets about giving it to me altogether.
I don’t want to disappoint him with my negative notions.
The part of me that’s capable of love is broken.
Maybe I broke it on purpose, but the only room I have for those kinds of feelings is saved for my brothers.
Both of them, because they need love way more than I do.