Blindness(43)

“It was Gabe. Gabe was in a darker place than Cody, and that’s all it took. Those two are more like brothers than real brothers are,” she says, smiling while talking about her boys—her brothers. “Gabe got into drugs. Our families? We didn’t grow up in the best hood. And Gabe hooked up with a few bad guys while Cody was gone. Gabe didn’t make it to every tour, only the ones he could afford, and when Cody wasn’t around to help Gabe make smart choices, he made really stupid ones. He was taking a lot of things—pills and shit. But when he started to hit crack, it got out of hand. He stole a car one night and got his ass arrested. Cody bailed him out. Spent a lot of his sponsorship money on it.”

I can tell it hurts her to talk about Gabe’s weaknesses, so I stop her. “Thank you for telling me…everything,” I say, reaching out my hand, hoping that she’ll accept it, accept me, and trust that I’ll make the right choice and not hurt Cody. I’m surprised when she reaches forward and pulls me into a hug, and my arms are awkward as they reach around her. I haven’t been held much, let alone by another woman.

She doesn’t look at me while she walks away, and I know she’s struggling with trusting me, letting me get close to her tight family. And I’m torn, too—almost hoping she opts to keep me out, makes my decision easier.

“So, I’ll see ya, okay?” she says, getting in her car and leaving it at that. I watch her back out and pull down the drive before I get in my own car and head to school, my verve for studying now almost non-existent.





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I finished out the week in a rush. My portfolio critique went surprisingly well, and my boss was eager to show my work to the senior architect on the design team at the firm. I wasn’t expecting him to like my drawings, let alone show any interest. Of course, now I had a new deadline to contend with, and needed to have full-color drafts ready to present by the first of December.

Trevor was so proud of me. He even sent me a Monopoly box and changed all of the street names to somehow relate to my collection of homes. He wasn’t very accurate—he’s only seen my drawings in bits and pieces, so it’s not his fault—but the thought made my heart melt.

I was looking forward to our weekend together. I hadn’t seen Cody since the night of the kiss, and the more time that passed, the more it felt like a dream—and a mistake.

The flight to Washington is fast, just over an hour. I barely have time to start listening to my new playlist. I made a goal for myself to grow my music library, which, though classically honed, is in need of some new blood.

I decide to squeeze in another song or two while I wait for the plane to unload—I always sit near the back, close enough to a restroom, but away from the lights and the chatter of the front of the plane. I like to close the window, not really interested in seeing the angle of our descent or how high I am above patches of farmland. The tradeoff is a painfully slow exit once landed.

I’m feeling the heavy thump of the latest Arctic Monkey’s LP when I finally clear the gate and see Trevor waiting for me. He doesn’t see me at first, and his feet are shuffling with nerves, his hand holding onto a long-stem rose, which looks desperate for water. His jumpiness makes me giggle. When our eyes finally meet, his smile breaks through, and the churning in my stomach that’s been going non-stop since Trevor left the last time…quits. He’s wearing a long coat with a white shirt and dress pants, like he’s just left a courtroom. He has one of those plaid scarfs draped over his neck, and his hair looks flat, probably from the rain.

My lips are on his the instant he says hello, and he scoops me up, lifting me from the ground to twirl me around. “Man, did I miss you,” he says, pressing his forehead to mine and giving me one more squeeze.

“Ditto,” I say, biting my lip in a coy smile. Coming here, visiting Trevor, is exactly as I always imagined. As we walk through the airport to the car and drive along the highway, I take in the rest of my setting. It’s perfect, exactly as I knew it would be, and when I close my eyes, I can imagine myself here—and I’m happy.

Trevor’s hand squeezes mine while we drive the short distance to his studio apartment. His building is posh, but his space is pretty small. Once inside, I slide my bags to claim a corner by the bed, and then freshen up in his bathroom.

“Are you hungry?” Trevor asks through the door. “I thought we could grab a light lunch, walk the city a little, and then come back to get ready for the show? I have reservations for dinner tonight at a place you’re going to love,” he says.

I’m starving, but I kind of want to stay in, spend a little time with Trevor in his bed—spend a little time erasing any remnant of my slip-up with Cody. But my stomach betrays me and growls the minute Trevor swings open the door. The sound makes him laugh, and he grabs my purse to hand it to me. “That’s a yes, then?” he chuckles.

“I guess so,” I say, a little embarrassed. I follow him out the door and hold onto his arm while he walks us down the hall to the bank of elevators. Everything here feels more important, more grown up, and seeing Trevor in this element brings out a whole new level of sexy. Unable to stop myself, I slide into him in the elevator and kiss him hard. He’s surprised at first, but reaches around to grab my thigh soon enough, pushing my back into the corner of the elevator. The ding halts our kiss and another couple joins us for the rest of the ride down. I slide my eyes to meet Trevor’s, and we both smirk.