Blindness (9 page)

“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.

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 fuck, 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.

Kevin was oblivious to the entire exchange,
thank God. He was busy straightening out his clubs and changing out
his shoes. Once he’s ready, we all head for the clubhouse to meet
Cody at the rental station. I feel Trevor’s grip tighten on my hand
just before we walk in the door, and he pulls me back a little out
of Kevin’s earshot.

“It’s important for Kevin to like me,” he
says, his eyes willing me to understand and comply. “Can we please
not try to save my brother today? Is that okay with you? I promise,
I will try to be nicer to him in front of you. But just today…give
me today?”

I force myself to understand Trevor’s
perspective. He only knows what his father tells him, and his
father has been his only parent for most of his life. I squeeze his
hand back and bring it up to my lips to kiss it and give him a
reassuring smile.

“I promise,” I say. I can see him relax
instantly, and in that moment I’m reminded that I’m
his
girl, and that if what I’m doing is trying to save Cody, I should
remember to keep Trevor’s best interests in mind, too.

Despite not playing for months, I find my
swing pretty quickly. I’m stroking the ball well, and Kevin keeps
remarking how impressive my game is. Cody’s been quiet most of the
day, which I know is making Trevor happy. He’s riding in the other
cart with Kevin, and barely saying a word at every hole—only
answering a question here and there that I overhear Kevin ask.
Mostly, Kevin is talking about himself.

Surprisingly, Cody’s game isn’t half bad. I
can tell he’s played before. He’s hit a few bogeys, for sure, but
he’s also parred a hole or two. I haven’t really been looking at
the scorecard, but I think he’s beating Kevin, and I feel a strange
tinge of pride at that.

The drink-cart girl pulls up, and Kevin
offers to buy us all a round. She’s cute, about my age, and is
wearing tight shorts and a fitted top with the buttons opened low
enough to show the lace trim of her white bra. I laugh a little to
myself as I notice all three guys staring at her ass when she
scoops out ice. I’m watching her pour Cody’s drink, and I notice
she spends a little extra time talking to him. When she’s done, he
hands her a tip, and she flips her hair back to giggle. So typical,
I’m ready to dismiss her. But then she leans in close and tucks a
napkin in his back pocket, patting it once as she walks back to her
cart to fetch Trevor and Kevin’s drinks.

Cody walks back to our carts ahead of the
other two, giving us a few minutes of alone time, the first we’ve
had all day. I want to be pleasant, and more than anything, I want
to survive this afternoon without a full-on anxiety attack. But for
some strange reason, seeing some blonde bimbo hit on Cody has me
fighting to think straight. And by the time he slides into the seat
next to me, and smiles, all I want to do is grab his drink and dump
it on his lap.

“Hey, that guy? Kevin or whatever? He wasn’t
kidding. You’re pretty good,” Cody says, his compliment for my golf
game no distraction for the jealousy scorching through my veins. I
don’t even have time to rationalize it before it comes out.

“Yeah, well, some girls have talents like
mine, while others just sleep around with assholes they pick up on
the golf course,” I’m embarrassed the instant I hear my own voice,
but it’s too late. I’ve already committed. And part of me is being
honest—though, I’m pretty sure I’m not coming off well.

Trevor and Kevin are heading back toward us,
so I take my opportunity to sit in the other cart, away from Cody.
I’m instantly grateful for the distance from him, but it’s
short-lived as he slides next to me again. I twist my face to look
at him, wishing like hell I had sunglasses on to hide the petty
rage I can’t mask. His eyes are hidden, and it makes me even
angrier. It doesn’t matter, though. I can tell he’s feeling smug
and satisfied. He’s sipping on his drink, smiling at me the entire
time.

Trevor stands next to me and reaches around
my body to give me a squeeze. I know he’s pissed that Cody took his
seat, and now that I’m pissed at Cody, too, I decide to lay it on a
little thick, leaning my head back just enough so Trevor can kiss
my neck. I let out a faint “Mmmmmmm,” just loud enough for Cody to
hear, and then tilt my head back right so I can start the cart. I
don’t bother to look at Cody, but I catch a glance of his face in
the mirror up above, and his smile is gone. I’m not prepared for
the guilt that rushes in next.

God, what is wrong with me.

By the time we turn for the second nine
holes, the boys are all a little tipsy. Kevin and Trevor continued
to ride together, talking and bonding over law-school stories. I
was left with Cody. But ever since my little display, he’s quit
acknowledging me, too.

I know it’s a bad idea the second I suggest
it, but much like the rest of my day, I’m flying blind, throwing
caution to the wind.

“Hey, how about we play $10 a hole for the
back nine?” I suggest. I’m throwing it out there, because I’m
desperate for attention…and I honestly don’t even care from whom.
Kevin, bless his little heart, is the first to chime in, saying he
loves the idea. Though he jokes that I should give him a
handicap.