“You’re trying to figure out who it is and where they’re going while at the same time eating and following the conversation,” Cort filled in.
“Yeah. And then if it gets too quiet, I wonder if they’re watching me.” Grey shook his head and groaned. “It’s good to be around them, but I’m so tense the entire time. A simple meal has never been so exhausting.”
“I know it doesn’t feel like it, but it will get easier, I swear. You will relax. You’ll get better at filling in the blanks, and you’ll stop worrying about things.”
“Cort…” Grey paused and licked his lips. “Are…are you blind too? You just…you seem to understand this even when I can’t explain it.”
“Well…since you asked…” Cort paused a long time, watching Grey’s face pale and eyes widen. He couldn’t help wondering if Grey was always so expressive, or if this was a result of him losing his sight. “No, I’m not.”
“Oh, my God! You fucking asshole!” Grey slid his hand along the back couch cushion until he felt Cort’s shoulder. He dug his fingers in and gave him a hard shove. “I can’t believe you did that!”
“What? Played a trick on a blind man?” Cort teased.
“Asshole. Fucking blind leading the blind,” Grey muttered.
Cort stopped laughing and admired the grin he’d put on Grey’s lips again before turning serious. “In all honesty, most people who work with the blind are vision impaired as well. Who else can understand what you’re going through? When I was in training, I spent a hell of a lot of time in masks that made me completely blind. No light. No shadows. Nothing. I had to be able to do all the things I’m teaching you blind. I know firsthand how scary this can be.”
“But you could always take the mask off.”
“Yeah, that was the unfair part. But I didn’t, no matter how frustrated and scared I got, because it was important to me to be able to understand what you’re going through. I wanted to be able to help you.”
“Umm…yeah…” Grey cleared his throat, his brow furrowing for a moment before he finally shook his head. “What are we working on today? Are you ready to set me free with a knife?”
Cort appreciated the redirect. They had to be serious on occasion, but he preferred to keep Grey’s mood light and the man active.
“As exciting as that sounds, I was thinking we’d go for a walk.” Grey’s expression screamed that Cort was out of his mind. “Being blind doesn’t mean you’re going to sit around on your ass all the time.”
“No, but being a writer does.”
Cort shook his head a little. “Still can’t believe I’m working with an honest-to-God author. I looked you up when I got home. Might have ordered a couple of your books.”
The blush was back, and Grey’s eyes were directed toward the floor again. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I was curious. Besides, after meeting you yesterday, I figured you were more likely to write scathing restaurant reviews.”
“Har. Har. Thank God you weren’t hired for your wit.”
“But you don’t have to give up your writing. We’ll get you set up with some dictation software you can start practicing with. There’s also the option of simply dictating your manuscript and hiring someone to put it into the computer. If you’d like, we can work on that today for a while,” Cort offered, but Grey was already shaking his head.
“Not yet. My head is…it’s too cluttered and distracted right now. I’m not in the right mental space for writing. I’ll just get frustrated because I can’t concentrate.”
Reaching out, Cort wrapped his fingers around Grey’s arm and simply held it for a moment. To his shock, Grey didn’t flinch or jump at his touch. In fact, Cort could feel him relax. Tension unwound and his shoulders lowered just a little. In all his years of doing this, he’d never had a client relax quite like that when he laid a hand on them. Certainly not after such a short time frame of knowing each other. And Grey had done it from the first. It was strange and very intriguing.
“You’ll get there,” Cort said calmly.
“Yes,” Grey murmured. His voice as low and even, as if Cort had put him into a trance.
“All right, back to the walk. I want you to give me a tour of your house.” Cort released Grey’s arm and folded his hands together, trying to ignore the heat that lingered against his palm.
Grey spread his hands out in front of him. He waved his right hand and said, “Kitchen.” Waved both hands in front of him and said, “Living room,” then motioned with his left, saying, “bathroom and bedroom.”
“See, your problem isn’t being blind. You get exhausted from constantly being a smartass.”
“Yes, yes. You’ve seen right through me. That’s what’s so tiring.”