Blindness(20)

He busts out laughing mid-sentence, unable to keep a straight face. I start to laugh, too, knowing I really have no idea how to brew coffee. I only started drinking it in college—and I usually buy my cup at Starbucks. I smile at him and shake my head, instinctively reaching forward to touch him. I push his arm with a tease, and he stops it before I can pull away, grabbing my fingers and wrapping them in his own. Suddenly, he’s holding my hand. He’s holding my hand!

I let him, and watch as his fingers slowly lock into place with mine, the twists of ink and words along them like black keys on a piano against my pale skin. I steal a glance at him to see his eyes intent on our tangled hands, his gaze soft, but guarded. He’s being so careful. My mind is betraying everything I’m fighting to hold onto with visions of his mouth on mine, my lips tingling at the thought of kissing him, tasting him.

Reality slams into me hard, though, when I hear Trevor’s booming laugh enter the foyer—along with someone else’s. I jump from my seat and slap my hands to both cheeks to wake myself from the dream I was just indulging in. I shake my head, and briefly lock eyes with Cody, who’s smirking back at me, almost amused at my harried state. Before Trevor makes it to us, I turn to the sink and start rinsing dishes—dishes that, frankly, are already clean.

He’s telling the man who’s with him a story as he enters the kitchen, and I’m grateful he’s distracted from the redness that’s now taken up residence across my entire body.

“I can’t believe that * told you that!” Trevor says to his friend, leaning over my shoulder to kiss me while he drops his keys and wallet on the counter. It takes him all of three seconds to realize Cody’s here, and I can feel his insult coming before he unleashes it. “What? Still don’t have your own f*ckin’ coffeemaker? Freeloader,” Trevor says, rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to his friend.

What days ago only made me uncomfortable, today has me angry and ready to jump to Cody’s defense. I’m squeezing the knife in my hand while I rinse off the blade then turn to drop it in the dishwasher. I catch Cody’s eyes and mouth to him “I’m sorry.” But he doesn’t seem to be bothered. He raises his mug and gets to his feet, tipping his cup to take one more sip before stopping and remembering how terrible it tastes. He spits it back in, and I laugh quietly at him.

Trevor is watching us. Not wanting to make a big deal out of anything, I just smile, shrug, and turn back to the running water. I’m half-listening to Trevor and his friend talk when I realize he’s trying to get my attention. I turn the water off and dry my hands while his friend is reaching his hand to me. “Charlotte, this is Kevin. He’s Judge Sumner’s nephew,” Trevor says, his tone subtle, but I understand what he’s trying to tell me. Kevin’s important, and I need to make a good impression.

“Kevin, nice to meet you. Do you live out here? Or are you just visiting?” I ask, my mind only half paying attention to Kevin—the rest of me completely aware of Cody’s presence, every move and every breath. I had thought he’d run the second Trevor showed up, and while I’m glad he stayed, it’s also making me nervous.

“Just visiting. We have a lot of family out here,” Kevin says. He seems nice and genuine, a refreshing change from a lot of the lawyer-types Trevor usually hangs around. “Hey, Trevor tells me you golf? We just set up a tee time. We need a pair, you two want to join us?”

Trevor’s eyes look as though they’re about to bulge from his face as he looks from me to Cody and back again. I’m fighting to form words in my mouth, get my tongue unglued, when Cody absolutely stuns me. “Sure, we’d love to,” he says, giving me a wink, and then turning to the back door. “Just give me about ten minutes to get ready.”

I watch as he disappears out the door, my tongue still rendered useless. My arms and legs are tingling with panic. I turn back to Trevor, who’s looking out the same door Cody just left through, with the same shock I’m feeling; though, I’m sure, for a very different reason. He finally turns to me, his eyes caught somewhere between confused and furious. Thankfully, Kevin interrupts.

“Great, can’t wait to see you on the course. I hear you have a great drive,” he says. “Restroom?”

Trevor points Kevin down the hall, and I secretly wish he wouldn’t leave us alone. I don’t know where this conversation is going to go, and I somehow fear Trevor saw me holding Cody’s hand. The room starts to spin a little, and I falter, leaning on the counter to catch my balance. Trevor runs over to me, and puts my arm over his shoulder to hold me up. “Whoa, are you okay, babe?” he asks, suddenly less interested in the drama about to unfold on a fairway, and more worried about me.

“I’m fine; I’m okay. I just got dizzy for a minute there. Get me some water maybe?” I ask, sitting back on the stool, and pressing my forehead into my hand. Trevor pulls a glass from the cabinet and fills it with ice water for me. I lay my head on the counter for a few minutes until the spinning subsides. I know what happened—I had a panic attack. I used to get them a lot right after Mac died. The room is right again, but I’m pondering playing my dizziness up a little more, thinking maybe it will get me out of this nightmare. I’m about to fake illness when Kevin comes back in.

“So where’s this course?” He asks Trevor, who is just staring at me, trying to gauge if I’m really okay or not. I’m still unsure which way I want to lean when the other door suddenly opens, and Cody’s back. He’s wearing a slim pair of gray pants and a gray and black striped golf shirt, the material tight across his chest, and the preppy-look surprisingly sexy against his winding tattoos and piercings. He has a snap front hat on, and he tips it forward when he looks at me.