Blindness(21)

I realize Trevor is watching me look at him, and I quickly adjust my reaction. Trevor holds his mouth in a tight line, and I can see the muscles in his jaw flex. “Cody, you’ll have to drive yourself. We’re playing at the Pines. We’ll meet you there. Kevin, you can follow me,” Trevor says, almost barking orders at everyone.

I hate when Trevor gets like this. I’ve told him before I don’t like the alpha. I can tell Kevin senses the tension in the room, because he’s looking between Trevor and Cody the same way I am—only I have the pleasure of full disclosure. And I almost long for the days when I was blissfully ignorant to their relationship, let alone the bad blood between these two and just how deeply it ran.

I head upstairs to escape it momentarily and put on my golf pants and one of my old shirts. I go to the range from time to time just to keep my skills up, but it’s been a while since I’ve been on the course. I’m almost thankful that I have my game to concentrate on for the next three hours.

By the time I get downstairs, everyone’s waiting in their cars, and as soon as I shut the door, Cody takes off. I fight to keep myself from looking toward his truck as it pulls away, forcing my gaze to Trevor’s BMW, where he’s waiting with his arm along the window, his fingers tapping impatiently. I can feel my heartbeat kick up in my stomach. Dread—I’m experiencing actual dread.

Trevor’s silent for most of the ride. I keep making small talk. I mention the office assignment I’m working on for my internship, designing space for a triangular building. Trevor doesn’t even bother to nod in reaction, and I can tell he isn’t listening, but I keep throwing new topics out there, hoping that if I keep the silence from building too much, he won’t burst. I make a tactical error, though, when I bring up this morning’s coffee, and how terrible it was.

“So what the f*ck, are you and Cody coffee buddies now or something?” Trevor’s tone is jealous, and he’s speaking to me like I’m someone else entirely. Honestly, I don’t think he’s ever raised his voice to me—not once.

“I’m sorry?” I ask, pretending I don’t know where his anger is coming from, and also fighting against my new urge to jump to Cody’s defense. I can tell now is not the time.

“Do you know how embarrassing it is, Charlotte? I bring Kevin Sumner home to meet you, and we find you in there all chummy and shit—with him!” he says, his eyes flicking between me and the road, his hands tight around the steering wheel, and his breath slow and heavy. I’ve never seen him this angry, and I clutch my purse in my lap, squeezing it to keep my own temper at bay. Mac’s temper.

“Trevor, I’m being polite to your stepbrother. He came in while I was drinking coffee—I poured him a cup, and then you came in with Kevin, that’s all,” I say, knowing full well that was only the beginning, but suddenly feeling like I have every right to everything else that happened—and also feeling protective over it.

I’m braced, waiting for Trevor to fight back, when he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out, starting to laugh. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I feel my grip loosen. “Cody just pisses me off. I don’t trust him, and I don’t want him filling your head with crap about my dad.”

I wait, taking in everything he says, before I answer. Part of me wants to question him, spark a debate, now armed with everything I learned from Gabe the night before. But we’re pulling into the course—not the time to open up the massive, relationship-threatening argument over how Jim treats Cody. So instead, I smile and just tell him it’s okay, that I understand.

I’m a liar.

We pull in and park right behind Cody’s pickup. I can see him sitting in it, his eyes locked on me in the rearview mirror. I’m lost in them instantly. Even as I pull the visor down to check my lips and teeth, I keep an eye on Cody. And I swear I can see his smile. But it’s gone the instant Trevor leans over and kisses my neck. And when I look back, Cody’s eyes are gone, too—and my stomach sinks.

Kevin pulls in next to us and joins us at the trunk where Trevor’s pulling out our clubs. “Cody, you’re going to have to rent a set. I only brought mine and Charlotte’s,” Trevor says. He has an extra set at home; I’ve seen it. My heart falls knowing he did this on purpose. I turn to Cody to catch his reaction, and he just shrugs.

“Wait, we can share,” I pipe in, my pulse racing at this gauntlet I decided to throw down. I can feel the weight of Trevor’s stare on me, and I know I’ve pissed him off. I tighten my lips and breathe in through my nose for courage to move forward. “I’m pretty tall, and if Cody doesn’t golf much, he won’t mind the shaft. It’ll help your game.”

I wink at him, hoping he’ll play along. Just then, Trevor reaches around me to pull me close, almost like a warning, boasting his possession of me. And that’s when Cody’s face falls. I see it wash over him—the inferiority and hopelessness. “Thanks, Charlie, but I’ll just rent a set,” he says, taking off quickly for the clubhouse.

I know he said my name just to eat away at Trevor. Cody doesn’t know why I don’t use that name, but he knows enough to realize that it makes him special that I don’t correct him anymore. And he’s right, and Trevor knows it, too. I see him react the second it leaves Cody’s mouth, but I decide to ignore it. If he brings it up, I’ll pretend I didn’t notice, and tell him I’ll listen for it next time. Part of me feels guilty that I’ve given this piece of me to Cody, the same part of me that’s drowning in confusion over why I’m thinking about him so much and working so hard to get closer to him. It scares me. But not enough to stop. Not yet.