Page 5 of Carry On
“Undergrad?”
“Don’t think so.”
“High school.”
“I doubt—oh, holy shit,” I murmured, damn near lurching to my feet as it dawned on me where I knew him from. I had to get out of there if I was going to confirm my suspicion. “Coffee… coffee… just throw my coffee out.”
There wasn’t a lid, and I didn’t have time. I didn’t wait for whatever Sebastian had to say as I hurried out the door and down the street, chasing a ghost from my past.
“Nash Calhoun,” I called out loudly when I was close enough. He froze but didn’t turn around. Shit, I was right. But what did I do now that I was?
Never in a million years did I expect to run into him again, and definitely not like this. Not unhoused. Not playing music on a corner for money. To be honest, I hadn’t heard anything about him after the bar incident. Clearly, his life hadn’t improved since then.
“You’ve got the wrong person,” he grunted after a tense moment.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“You’ve got the wrong person, Linc,” he repeated gruffly. Without another word, he crossed the street, quickly putting distance between me and him.
The surprise of hearing that nickname again kept me rooted where I was. Only one person in the world ever called me Linc. I sure as hell never expected to find him again wandering the streets of Seattle without anything to his name.
CHAPTER 04
NASH
Ishouldn’thavecalledhimLinc. What a stupid fucking mistake. If I hadn’t, he would’ve just brushed me off. Would’ve left me the fuck alone. But now? Now, he knew.
Just because he remembers you doesn’t mean you matter to him,the voice retorted.
And it was right. Just because Lincoln Cassidy knew who I was didn’t change a damn thing. We were worlds apart. He was probably somewhere having a good laugh about the whole thing.
Nash fucking Calhoun: broken, homeless guy.
Yeah, I knew what the world thought of people like me. I had no reason to believe Lincoln was any different.
And yet… here I was, standing across the street at the park once more and staring up at Lincoln’s condo. I stood there and brushed my teeth in the dark as I watched him.
Call it what it is. You’re stalking him,that voice taunted.
Maybe I was stalking him. Just a little bit.
I spat out the toothpaste and ran my tongue over my teeth. A toothbrush and toothpaste were a few of my essentials. We all had certain things we’d squirrel away whatever change we collected so we could buy them.
Toothbrushes, toothpaste, alcohol, and protein bars were mine. I could make a protein bar last for days, I needed alcohol to make the voice inside my head shut up, and I couldn’t stand the buildup taste in my mouth if I didn’t brush.
Everything else was subjective. Even water.
Somehow, it felt like Lincoln was weaseling his way onto that list—the list of things I needed to get by. I had no other reason to explain why I was standing outside his place. Why I was watching him. Stalking him.
I wanted a glimpse of his life. I wanted to see what he’d made for himself.
What was his condo like? Was it nice? Cozy and comforting? Or was he one of those guys who had a bachelor pad? Cold and unwelcoming. Meant to make sure people left in the morning.
If I had to guess, I’d say it was the first. The potted plants by the window were a good hint at that. The rest? Well, I just fantasized about the little details.
Fantasize away,the voice said.It’s not like you’ll ever know.
It was right. It was always right.
