True North Book 3 - Finding Now Kate and Sam

by Allie Juliette Mousseau

  “I’m not a big breakfast eater.”

  “Then lunch,” he said as if there was no question about it. “Oh, and I need a laundry room.” He stood up and stretched. He wasn’t wearing anything but a pair of dark jeans and his leather bands and a necklace—a thin suede strand with a silver pendant. He was shirtless and barefoot and looked like sex. I was still human, and he was chiseled hard marble covered with soft flesh colored in ink.

  “Laundry?” I asked absentmindedly.

  “Yeah, it got kind of messy yesterday and my shirt and sweater got the worst of it.”

  OH MY GOD, I THREW UP ON HIM! I was mortified. “I’m so, so terribly embarrassed. Please, let me replace the items, it’s the least I can do.”

  “It’s okay,” he said calmly. “I found a bucket under your kitchen sink. They’re soaking.”

  “I’ll take care of it. I’ll have your leather cleaned professionally too.” I got to the kitchen quickly and brought the bucket to the bathroom where I had a washer/dryer combo and threw them in.

  “Jacket was spared.” He smiled like it was no big deal, while I wanted to sink into the floor. “So, what do you like to eat?”

  I was struggling now. I thought of saying something sarcastic to show I wasn’t going anywhere with him. But I wasn’t an ungrateful bitch and couldn’t bring myself to do it, not after everything he’d just done for me.

  “Lunch, then we’re even,” I insisted.

  “I’m not keeping score, Jolie. If you don’t want to go to lunch with me, you don’t owe me a thing.”

  Why couldn’t he be an asshole? It would be so much simpler if he were an asshole.

  “I like Kells.” At least I could pick a familiar place.

  “Kells. That’s the Irish pub?” He smiled.

  “Yeah.” What was I doing bringing him to my apartment and now bringing him to my only haunt? I was all kinds of confused and I must have looked it too, standing in the middle of my tiny studio between the bathroom and him, not sure what to do with myself.

  “Do you mind if I grab a shower first?”

  “No! Of course not. Please do.” I diverted my eyes from his already half naked body so I didn’t imagine his wholly naked body in my shower. “Fresh towels are in the cabinet.”

  “Thanks.”

  I looked back up and he was wearing the sexiest smile I had ever seen. He didn’t walk, he sauntered into the bathroom.

  I sat down on my bed, staring at the loveseat where he’d slept. The most insane desire spread through me to get up and lay down where he’d been. To feel his leftover presence. I imagined the warmth of him on the couch. My breath quickened. When you’ve closed yourself off from human touch for so long, the smallest amount can seem like so much. I closed my eyes and breathed through the craving.

  Soon enough, I started my new battle. What the hell was I going to wear? It was a Saturday and I couldn’t go in my professor’s clothes, which would look more than stupid. But it would keep a wall between us and establish precedence.

  I spoke to myself quietly. “Okay, I can do a pair of black business pants and a white blouse.” Not fully casual, but not entirely stuffy. I waited a moment. My heart didn’t palpitate so I guessed it was a safe choice.

  I got dressed in the kitchen while he was showering and listened to him while he sang. He had a beautiful, melodic voice with a rough edge. He would obviously be a phenomenal singer behind a microphone.

  A few minutes later he came out in his jeans with his torso still glistening with mist and his hair wet. I noticed a small black and silver yin and yang symbol pierced into his right ear. What the hell is he doing here with me?

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew what I used to look like—that girl would have loved the attention, but I wasn’t her. I was Catherine, his professor. This guy could have any girl he set his eyes on.

  Oh … I got it. Maybe he thought a roll in the sack would give him an easy A? But then I remembered he’d started the flirting before he knew I was the professor.

  The buzzer on the washing machine went off. I threw his t-shirt in the dryer and laid his sweater flat on the rack.

  He sat back on my love seat, sipped his coffee and asked, “So where are you from?”

  Wrong question … “I was going to ask you the same thing,” I diverted.

  “Oh yeah? I told you a little bit yesterday. I’m from Williston, North Dakota. My family owns a lot of property that way.”

  “That’s right, you told me the story about your friend … Nate, right?”

  “Yeah, he married my sister.”

  “How many brothers and sisters have you got?”

  “Four brothers and a younger sister,” he told me. “Do you have any?”

  I swallowed painfully hard and half-lied again. “That would divert some of my mom’s attention.”

  “It was like that for a while for me and my twin Will.”

  “There are two of you?” My voice cracked.

  He laughed lightly. “Yeah. Will is my identical. But once our sister Jules came along, mom pretty much changed her radar.”

  “So you have a close family?” I felt myself wanting to smile again.

  “The closest,” he said. “So what about you? You’ve obviously obtained your PhD, and you said you were only four years older than me, how did you do it so fast?”

  I had no life. “I just decided to take accelerated courses and stayed focused.” Half-truths worked.

  “Where did you go to university?”

  “University of British Columbia in Vancouver.”

  “I love that city!” he exclaimed excitedly.

  “It’s gorgeous there,” I agreed.

  “Did you ever go skiing on Whistler?”

  Kate used to love snowboarding almost as much as she loved surfing. “No, I’m not much of a skiing fan.” Another partial truth. “What made you choose Washington? Why not UND?”

  “I wanted the pace and activity Seattle had to offer. Plus, U of W is a kick-ass university.”

  “That’s true.” I nodded just as the dryer went off. “I’ll get your stuff.” I jumped up from the edge of my bed where I’d been sitting and rushed to the bathroom.

  I came back out with his warm t-shirt, which I’d folded. “Here, all better,” I assured.

  “Thanks.” He took the t-shirt and pulled it over his head right in front of me. His physique made my head spin. “Let’s go get some food, I’m starving.”

  Kendra, the afternoon waitress, lifted her eyebrows when I came in and wasn’t alone. Guess that’s what happens when you eat at the same place at the same table for months all alone.

  “The usual?” she asked, a little snarky. She eyed Sam greedily.

  “Do you have a usual?” he asked me brightly.

  “I come in here for dinner most nights.” I had that squirmy, uncomfortable-in-my- own-skin feeling. Kate would have been all over this shit Kendra was dishing out. Catherine, however, was too busy trying to keep everything sane and was thus dressed like Sam’s mother—okay, little harsh—older sister. FUCK! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Let him notice her! You have no intentions of seeing him outside of class again!

  “Fish is good, so are the burgers,” I said flatly.

  “I’ll take your house burger then.” He handed his menu to Kendra, who tried to capture his eyes, but he put them right back on me.

  Why did that have to feel so good?

  “I’ll take the same,” I said, staring at the table. I wasn’t sure how to handle the confusion I felt.

  “What would you like to drink?” Sam asked.

  “Diet Coke would be fine.”

  “Two please,” he told Kendra.

  “Certainly.” She smiled, but it was tense. She was pretty and, I was sure, unaccustomed to guys not looking her over.

  “So how long have you lived in Seattle?” he started, leaning forward on his elbows, showing I had his undivided attention.

  “A few months,” I answered awkwardly. “How about you?”
<
br />   “Going on five years. I love it here,” he said jovially.

  “What’s your favorite place?”

  “Space Needle,” he answered without hesitation. “How about yours?”

  I hesitated. Kells didn’t quite cut it, and my apartment’s terrace was even worse.

  “I haven’t had a lot of sightseeing time.” More lies. Didn’t matter, I wouldn’t be seeing him outside of class again anyway, I’d already established that.

  “You haven’t been to the Space Needle?” He looked incredulous.

  I shook my head.

  “How about a ferry ride?” he tried again.

  I shook my head and he lifted his eyebrows in disbelief.

  “It’s been really … nice getting to know you, Sam …” I started to stand up. This was all wrong.

  “No, don’t go. I get it. You haven’t had a chance to get out much. No big deal.” The way his eyes held me compelled me to sit back down and quickened my breath.

  Kendra came back with our burgers and drinks.

  Sam scarfed his down in a heartbeat.

  “Did you even taste it?” I joked and immediately wished I hadn’t. The smile had come too easily.

  He laughed. “Well I had a half bowl of Cheerios last night for dinner.”

  Right, he’d been in my food barren apartment. I almost apologized but he said,

  “Hey, when we’re done, would you like to go back to campus with me so I can get my car?”

  “Oh, that’s right, you left your car.” I frowned. “I’m so sorry for yesterday.”

  “Stop saying you’re sorry, I was happy to have been there,” he said graciously. “Plus, I told you I’d get that cup of coffee.”

  I barked out a laugh without meaning to. Damn it, damn it!

  “You know, Sam, I’ve got papers to grade that I missed yesterday, so I’ll have to pass on the car excursion.” And that was more than a half truth; I did have papers to grade.

  “Well, it’s Saturday and I’m playing The Highline tonight. How about I pick you up at seven?” He smiled.

  “I told you, I can’t go on a date—” I started.

  He interrupted, “With a student. I don’t buy it. We’re both consenting adults and it’s completely legal and ethical.”

  “Plus, I’m four—”

  “Years older than me? Right.” He leaned into the table on his elbows until his face was within kissing distance. I held my breath. “Chris Hemsworth’s wife is seven years older than he is. Hugh Jackman’s is thirteen years older. Going out with a slightly older woman is not socially strange. So would you please let it go and come out with me?”

  “I’m gay,” I blurted.

  He laughed so hard the surrounding lunch crowd all turned to look at us. “Liar! I saw how you looked at me this morning when I got out of the shower!” He made zero pretense of lowering his voice. I blushed to my toes.

  “Okay,” I hissed low, “I’m not gay.”

  “So come to my concert.” His voice had that low, sexy, gravelly tone to it now.

  “Why are you being so nice to me?” I was running out of arguments.

  “I want to be your friend,” he stated.

  My friend. Yeah, right. And even if that was all he wanted … I took a deep breath. “I don’t have friends, Sam.” I have ghosts. “I should go.”

  He grabbed my arm. “If the big, noisy crowd isn’t your thing, how about Sunday morning I show up at your place with omelets and give you a private, preferred performance?”

  His words and how he said them made places in me tingle that I forgotten existed.

  Looking at him as he waited for my answer, I didn’t feel scared or panicked, I just felt sad. Like a sad, small, empty, cracked snail shell, tossed against the ocean waves with no control over itself. That thought made me miss my ocean. And that was the problem; Mr. Sam North made me feel. I couldn’t afford that; the conversation with my mom yesterday proved it was too soon, proved I couldn’t do it, proved I had no business trying and that I didn’t deserve it.

  “Sam,” I fumbled, “I’m not really good with people.” As I spoke, I forced myself to close off the flurry of emotions that threatened me. Numbness was safe. “I’m really kind of a loner and you are … going to make some girl ecstatically happy one day, and I’m incredibly flattered you noticed me—”

  He interrupted again. “That’s part of your charm, Jolie, you are stunningly gorgeous and don’t even know it.”

  I reached up and allowed my fingers to graze against the morning stubble that had grown on his jaw overnight. My breath went shallow. I hadn’t touched another human being intimately since …

  “I’m pleading with you now. Don’t follow me out, just let me go.” I wondered what it would be like to be kissed by him, to be held in his arms, to feel his body pressed to mine … to listen to him sing for me.

  I got up from the table and walked quickly away.

  Chapter Six

  “She Talks to Angels”

  The Black Crowes

  Sam

  “You know, there’s something wrong with her.” The waitress came back right after she saw Ms. Jolie bolt out the door.

  “Really? I didn’t notice.” I drank down my Coke.

  She sat in the seat Jolie had been sitting in and leaned close like we were good friends. “For three months straight, she’s come in here every night. She’ll only sit right here in this seat at this table and is always alone.” She sat back up smugly. “You’re the only person she’s ever brought here.”

  I had heard and seen the way she’d treated Jolie and I personally didn’t like it. No need to be a bitch. “Is that supposed to make her less intriguing?” I asked.

  “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She picked herself up and went back toward the kitchen.

  “Maybe she just needs a friend,” I mumbled and threw a twenty on the table as I walked out.

  Shit! I have to get my fucking car.

  Kells wasn’t far from the university parking lot, so I walked.

  I’d seen that woman teach a daily lecture for almost two months, I highly doubted she was crazy. She was probably lonely. But why the hell was she lonely? It had to be by her own choice. I thought of how she wore that long blonde hair of hers every day, tight against her scalp, attempting to make herself look severe. It didn’t work. I could imagine myself pulling the hairpin out and letting the long waves cascade over her shoulders.

  Reel it in, asshat! She needed a friend.

  Damn, she didn’t even have a pet.

  And this became my mission how?

  Because she fell into my life, literally.

  I wondered who else knew about her? Knew she only had four contacts, knew she ate at the same pub every night? Did her mom or dad? Did the soul-sucker?

  I took my phone off my hip and dialed. “Hey, Will! Where are you?”

  “Vancouver Island. Just did a little wind surfing with Eli and Parker. What’s up?”

  “Did you know a Professor Jolie?”

  “Never heard of him.”

  “That him is a her. She teaches a class on renewable energy.”

  “What’s the matter, is she busting your balls?” Will laughed.

  “No, she’s just new to the school.” I knew I’d better change the subject fast or Will would take it somewhere I didn’t want it to go. “When are you coming back through?”

  “I’m headed to Nor Cal for the dirt, but I’ll be back in the Seat in about six weeks for a comp.”

  Interpretation: Northern California, the dirt was what he called the training facility, the Seat was Seattle, and the comp was a regional competition here. “Good. Six weeks. I got a gig tonight. The new management is really on fire. Logan’s booked over a hundred shows in the region and is even bragging he’s going to get us into the KeyArena to open for Headrush. Now he’s trying to talk the band into going out on tour.”

  “Are you going to do it?”

  “Before I get my master’s? I don’t
know. I’m thinking we see how popular we get regionally first and decide at the end of the year.”

  “So you’d do it?”

  “What are you getting at?” I groaned.

  “I’m getting at another North boy busting loose from the nest and leaving the business behind. Josh, Jake, me, now you …”

  “I really don’t think they care so much. They’ve made more money than they’ll ever need, and Caleb and Nate aren’t going anywhere,” I reasoned.

  “Then why aren’t you majoring in Music Business then?” Will chided.

  I rolled my eyes. “My mama raised me right. I know enough of the business to get by. If that fails, there’s a lot of money in engineering, but I don’t have to tell you that, Trickster.”

  “Man, Shaun White called me that one time and now I can’t get rid of it!”

  “It’s a great moniker for a MotoX rider,” I said.

  “Yeah, okay, Look I have to go. When I get there, I want to jam AC/DC at a gig.”

  “Then you better practice.”

  “Shit, I could play ‘Thunderstruck’ in my sleep.”

  “Alright, talk to you later.”

  “Bye, bro.” Will hung up.

  My car! I ran my fingers over the chrome detailing. I couldn’t believe I’d left her here overnight in the student parking lot. I had never done anything that stupid to her before. I thought of Jolie. I’d really had no choice.

  I went to my apartment and changed into gig clothes. I pulled on my Rolling Stones t-shirt and my favorite blue denim jeans with the knees blown out. I was about to put back on my Vans when I realized Ms. Jolie had christened them as well.

  How did that not bother me in the least? These were my favorite shoes.

  I started to smile. Poor thing, she was so embarrassed. I liked her, she was real. I could buy a new pair of shoes if these didn’t come clean.

  It was good not to worry about money. With a father and mother who owned almost all of the Bakken Oil Field not to mention a whole lot more, I’d come from privilege. The good thing though, was that my parents didn’t act like it. I had plowing jobs in the winter, and Will and I even had a lawn cutting business during the summer months. Our parents taught us the value of hard work and somehow kept us grounded.