I actually paused just behind the couch so I could get a hold of myself and settled my gaze on Seth’s honey blond hair that fell in soft waves just above his ears and nape. I could see the baby fine hairs along the back of his neck and cursed the urge to reach out and feel their softness beneath my fingers. Trace had had the same color hair and one of my favorite things to do as he’d lain on top of me after we’d made love, was to run my fingers through the short strands so I could watch the light play with the different colors that threaded through them.
That brief memory of Trace was quickly tainted by my final memory of him…one where his beautiful hair was soaked in blood while the green of his eyes started to fade, his pupils growing larger, their inky blackness glazing over as his last breath left his body.
The thought of Trace and how he’d been taken from me was enough to obliterate all of my anxiety and replace it with the familiar, bitter cold that settled in every part of my body. I welcomed it like an old friend and then walked around the couch. I’d already read the police report so I knew to expect the bruises, but words on paper weren’t the same as seeing them firsthand.
“How long?” Seth repeated, his eyes still on the horizon even as I stepped up to him and put my fingers under his chin. He stiffened slightly, but didn’t resist when I tilted his face up to examine the black and blue mark on his left cheek, another on his lower jaw and the small gash next to his left eye. His forest green eyes connected with mine for a moment before shifting away as he pulled free of my hold.
In so many ways he looked exactly the same as I remembered him, the damage to his face notwithstanding. But as painfully young as he still appeared to me, there was something missing that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. He’d filled out in the three years since I’d last seen him but he’d never be a large guy. I knew him to be a couple inches shorter than Trace, which meant he was at least three or four inches shorter than me. Fortunately, the few features he shared with Trace, like the eyes and the hair, weren’t strong enough to make it feel like I was looking at a younger version of my dead lover. But that fact only heightened my desire to put my fingers back on his warm skin.
“How long what?” I asked as I stepped away and sat down on the coffee table in front of him. I was both glad and annoyed that he refused to look directly at me. But the thought was short-lived because his eyes shifted to me before he answered.
“How long have you been watching me?”
I debated playing dumb but decided against it. It was beneath me…and him. “Off and on,” I answered. “How did you know?”
Seth shrugged and then reached next to me on the table for an icepack. He pressed it gingerly against his cheek. “I’d get this feeling once in a while like I was being watched.” Seth nodded towards the dog that had settled at his feet. “He’d always start acting funny, too…agitated. Thought I was going crazy for a while,” he muttered.
The thread of anger I heard in Seth’s voice didn’t surprise me but it bothered me more than it should have. Not that I didn’t deserve it because I did. I’d even steeled myself for it but a small part of me had hoped he’d still look at me the way he used to when he was younger…like I was his hero or something.
“What happened?” I asked as I motioned to his face. I already knew what had happened but I wanted him to tell me.
“What are you doing here, Ronan?” Seth asked. “And don’t tell me some bullshit about you just stopping by for a visit. We both know you can’t stand to be around me.”
I flinched at that. I’d never explained my reasons for walking away the day he’d kissed me. I hadn’t even said a word, just as I hadn’t looked back, even when I’d felt his hopeful gaze boring into my back as I’d walked to my car. He’d called and sent texts over the first few weeks but I’d steadfastly ignored them. I’d nearly broken when I’d heard his final voicemail, his voice heavy with unshed tears, as he’d told me how sorry he was and begged me not to leave him. I’d had my finger hovering over the call back button for several long minutes as I’d listened to it over and over again. But then I’d done the right thing and deleted the message because I wasn’t the man Seth wanted…I’d never be that man again.