“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 f**k, 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.