Blindness

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I say, turning and heading back to the kitchen. Trevor follows. “I heard you come in and got excited. Not trying to stab you, I swear.”

I drop the knife in the sink, and turn into Trevor’s ready arms. He picks up where we left off, the weapon now out of my reach. I’m pressed firmly against the sink, and he’s slid his hands up the front of my apron and under my blouse, when we hear someone clear their throat.

“Sorry, just needed to brew some coffee. Don’t really have a pot in the garage,” Cody says, looking over my shoulder and out the window. I’m mortified, and instantly tend to my disheveled hair and clothing. Trevor seems less embarrassed, more bothered.

“Maybe you should buy your own damn coffee maker,” Trevor says, his voice sounds a little harsh, and his gaze turns back to the hallway where his bags still rest. He looks back to me and gives me a chaste kiss, I think a little put off that we had to cut our moment short. “I’m going to take my things upstairs. Come on up when you’re done here, we’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”

Trevor bites at my neck and smacks my ass a little as he leaves. I watch as he stares at Cody while he walks out of the room. Cody doesn’t take his eyes from the window, though. I can tell he’s fighting against something. His jaw is tight and twitching. He doesn’t move until Trevor’s completely gone.

I’m embarrassed that Cody walked in on us. I’m not much for public displays of affection. I also have this heaviness in my chest—a tightness I haven’t been able to shake since the awkward family dinner where everyone but me pretended Cody was invisible. Feeling like I should explain myself, I start to talk, but Cody instantly holds up his hand to stop me.

“Really, none of my business. You two are living here…together…and I walked in on you. I was rude. I’m sorry,” he says, still unable to make eye contact with me.

“You just surprised us, that’s all,” I say, clearing the counter of my mess from the salad I was making for dinner. I take the droppings to the trash, and move to the sink to run my hands under the water just as Cody reaches for the faucet to rinse out a coffee pot. Our hands touch briefly, and we both jerk back.

“Sorry, just had to clean out this pot. I don’t think they’ve used it in ages…it’s dusty,” he says, still not looking me in the eyes.

“Go ahead,” I say, taking my apron off and rolling it up with the ties. My focus is intent on the stream of water. I watch as Cody fills the pot completely, twice, and swishes the water around before pouring it in the sink. His hands are meticulous, like a surgeon, and I’m spellbound. He leaves the water on as he turns away from me.

“All yours,” he says, before he busies himself with the packet of coffee in his hands. He’s looking through the cabinets, searching for filters, when he just stops, his shoulders slumping, and his head slung low. When I hear his breath escape in a long, defeated whisper of a moan—something in me breaks.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. “No filters? I know I saw some the other day. I’m sure I can find them.”

I slide over to stand next to him, and reach up on my tiptoes to move a few of the boxes out of the way. I’m desperate to find them for him, somehow believing that I can take away whatever pain this is that’s constantly brewing behind his eyes if I can just find the damn coffee filters.

I pull the cocoa down, along with some boxes of tea, before I see the white edge of the filters, and I grab them. I turn to face Cody, and am immediately struck by his closeness—my body buzzing from the instant rush of adrenaline. He’s inches from me, and I can feel the heat from his breath radiating along my neck and cheeks. He’s taller than me, by a few inches, and his chest is wide enough to swallow me whole. Even in his torn-up T-shirt, I can see the well-formed muscles underneath. His eyes are fixed on my face—not moving, not blinking. I gulp, though I try to mask it with a small cough.

“Hey, you know what?” I force the words out despite the rapid-fire beating happening in my chest. “You should just take this.” I put my hand on the coffee maker and reach for the plug, but Cody stops me, putting his hand on mine. He bites at his bottom lip as he stares at our hands now. My eyes are wide as I’m staring at them, too.

“I can’t. It’s not mine, and I won’t take anything from them,” he says, his voice hardened and sure.

Confused, but also not wanting to offend Cody, I try to reassure him that no one would miss it. “Really, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone make coffee…besides you,” I giggle, mostly because I’m nervous, and my damn heart won’t stop speeding up. “Take it.”