Trevor stares at me, trying to get a read on why I’m even suggesting this, and finally gives in. “Okay, but take it easy on these boys,” he jokes. I know what he really means—take it easy on him. Not a chance.

I know it’s Cody that really has me angry, and deep down, I know I’m being childish. But all it takes is one more visit from the beverage-cart girl to send me over the edge. He actually takes his sunglasses off, for the first time all day, and leans in to kiss her on the cheek, smacking her ass a little as she leaves. Trevor just rolls his eyes, earning him a pass, but Kevin high-fives him. Cody slides back in next to me when she leaves and leans over just enough to keep his next words between us.

“I bet she has more than one talent,” he says, raising his eyebrows and biting his tongue.

That’s it—game on.

For the next hour, I’m so focused it’s unreal. I drive the ball 240 yards off the tee, every time. I par out and even birdie the eighteenth. I’d be celebrating my best game in years if I wasn’t so goddamned mad.

I win every hole, no one else even coming close. I can tell Trevor’s deflated, and I feel badly that I’ve embarrassed him. My senses are actually starting to come back to me by the time we’re parking the carts and are heading into the clubhouse, and when it comes time to settle up, I talk Kevin into keeping his money. This seems to make Trevor happy; I don’t think he wanted his girlfriend to take money from his mentor’s nephew, and I’m half-mortified that I even suggested the idea.

Trevor and Kevin head out to the car to load their clubs, while I stay behind. I pretend I have to use the restroom, but I’m really waiting for Cody to finish checking in his clubs. I sit at one of the tables on the outdoor patio, right in his path, and my heart is racing in anticipation. I notice the drink-cart girl lingering by the bar, and I know she’s doing the same thing I am. God, I’m really no better than she is.

My breath hitches when I see him step outside, and I hold it while I watch him reach into his pocket and glance toward the bar. I think for a moment that he’s going to walk over there and join her, leave her a card with his number, or buy her a drink. But he doesn’t even acknowledge her. I silently rejoice when I notice her pout. My heart is speeding up with each step Cody takes in my direction, my mind racing through things to say, ways to explain myself—my behavior. I’m toying with the idea of crawling under the table the closer he gets when it’s suddenly too late.

“Hey, so that was all just a game. I’m sorry, I got a little carried away…I was mad at Trevor. You know? For ignoring me,” I say, only giving up a half-truth, but glad to see Cody stopped at my table. His glasses are still on, so it’s hard to read his expression. I’m about to begin the onslaught of apologies and tell him to keep his money when he drops two fifties on the table in front of me.

“Keep the change,” he says, before he steps around me and continues his way to the parking lot. I just stare at the money on the table—money I know he can’t afford to give away without good reason—and instantly I feel dirty. On the surface, he was settling a bet, a bet I coerced him into without even giving him a chance. A bet I used as a way to lash out at him, to throw a fit like a little spoiled girl because some chick caught his eye, even though I’m taken, and am happy to be—at least, I thought I was?

But Cody knows I wasn’t going to make him pay. He was making a point—that I just threw him away because of pride and jealousy.

And for the second time in only a few short weeks, I feel the urge to cry.

Chapter 6: Mac and Me Time

Kevin ended up spending the entire evening at our house for dinner. Trevor said I had really won him over, and that he was insisting I look at getting on Western’s golf team. I was flattered, but golf wasn’t really where my heart was anymore. It had always been a way to lose myself when I was a teenager, a sport I could do alone, on my terms. And when Mac started joining me for all of my matches, it quickly became about us. Competing just hasn’t felt right since Mac left.

Besides, I planned on finishing out my semester at Western, and then transferring somewhere closer to Trevor. The schools I was considering weren’t really the kind that had extracurricular programs. And if I got on with a firm in the city, my internship would eat up most of my time.

It’s been six days since Trevor left, and seven since I’ve seen Cody. The loneliness is starting to chip away at me. Jim is still in Chicago, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve heard Shelly speak. She’s not really much for company, and when I bring my books downstairs to study near her, she usually grabs a bottle from the cabinet and heads up to her room.