I HAVE THE DAY OFF today, but I won’t be relaxing. I have a to-do list a mile long beginning with groceries, laundry, and some new bedding. I’m tired of sleeping on Nick’s faded sheets, and God only knows what kind of fluids are embedded in their worn fibers.
I make my way to the kitchen to make myself a cup of herbal tea. After yesterday’s audition, I met Aerin for dinner and drinks and came home in time to catch a re-airing of the newest Housewives episode. But at some point in the night, I woke up passed out on the couch, and when I stood up to head upstairs, I realized I was covered with a blanket.
It seems Sutter was able to revive his cold, dead heart long enough to feel the need to cover me up … which is actually sweet, but I’m afraid to thank him for it because he might get all weird again.
Passing the living room, I stop when I see someone else covered with a blanket on the couch. Peeking over the back of the sofa, I realize it’s a kid. He must sense me, because he begins to rustle, his eyes peeling awake and then growing wider when he sees me looking over him.
“Hi,” I say.
The kid stares, but the more I look at him, the more I realize he looks exactly like Sutter. Same hazel eyes and dark hair. Same proportional nose and dark lashes.
This must be the 14-year-old brother he mentioned once before.
“Did you sleep well? I ask.
Still no response. Only blinks.
I offer an awkward smile before returning to the next room to make my tea. Maybe he’s nervous around girls? Boys in junior high can be so awkward and weird (unless their name is Nick Camden, of course).
A moment later, Sutter comes out of his room, straightening the hem of his work shirt before heading to the living room. His hands begin to rise and circle, and it takes me a second, but I realize he’s speaking to his brother in sign language.
The two of them exchange a silent conversation, and then I notice Sutter spelling out my name with his hands.
“I can introduce myself,” I sign.
Sutter stops, eyes trained on me, and his brother’s watchful stare passes between the two of us.
“You know ASL?” Sutter asks, head cocked.
“My grandfather on my mother’s side was deaf in his older years. Jeez, I haven’t used it in probably fifteen years. Crazy how it all comes back like that.” I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t secretly impressed with myself right now, but I’m more impressed at the way Sutter’s staring at me like he’s impressed.
But he snaps out of it, heading into the kitchen and brewing a pot of coffee. When he returns, he signs to his brother that he’ll be home by five and to stay out of trouble.
The instant he’s gone, I wrap my hands around my tea mug and I take a seat beside the messy-haired teenager who hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“What’s your name?” I ask with my hands.
His eyes widen, the same warm shade of honeyed amber as Sutter’s, and he swallows.
“Tucker,” he spells.
“You’re fourteen?” I ask.
He nods, fidgeting like I make him nervous. I suppose he’s at that age when he starts noticing women, becoming aware of every little movement and detail and staving off intrusive thoughts.
“You want to hang out with me today?” I ask in ASL.
Tucker fights a reluctant half-smile before slowly nodding, and then he signs something. I don’t understand all of it, but I understand enough. I think he’s asking if I can take him to the mall.
“Yes,” I sign, chuckling. “But only if you go to the grocery store with me first.”
Tucker’s face lights, his mouth pulled ear to ear. Thank God he’s a lot easier to win over than his big brother.
“Let’s leave in one hour,” I sign to him before rising and heading back to my room.
I think it’s sweet how Sutter is so protective of his brother.
And here I thought the only person he cared about … was himself.
I may have pegged him all wrong.