“Better?” Brandon asks after I emerge from the bathroom, showered and dressed.
He moves around the kitchen with ease, perfectly content playing cook as he flips eggs and bacon on the stove and pours me a glass of cold orange juice.
Even when I don’t deserve it, he’s always there for me. Apart from a very dark time last year when he was too busy. Too busy to hold me when I cried.
“Tell me what happened last night. I can’t remember anything after the fifth, maybe sixth shot.”
He dishes out breakfast, and the aroma of sizzling bacon and fried eggs roils my stomach as I sit at the kitchen island, my hands resting on the cool marble.
“You don’t?” He pauses the task, narrowing his eyes before finally addingshitin a whisper tinged with concern.
“Tell me about Alan,” I say, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. “Did he—”
“No,” he interrupts. “I swear, okay? He didn’t touch you.” His expression turns serious. “I’m sorry, babe. I shouldn’t have let you play, but you sounded fine, you know? You made sense. You didn’t slur much.”
Relief comes first, quickly replaced by shame and regret. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I should’ve stayed home like I planned all along.” I down a few vitamin and pain pills, hoping they’ll alleviate the pounding headache. “So Alan took me to the closet but didn’t touch me?”
Brandon nods. “I spoke to him today. He said you slumped to the floor as soon as he closed the door... Cody kicked it down a minute later.”
“What? Why?”
“He went for a cigarette before you asked to play, and you weren’t at the table when he came back. I told him you were with Alan, and he got pissed.” A small smirk curves his lips. “I’ve seen Cody lose it a few times, and last night was easily top five. Alan’s got a broken nose and two black eyes to prove it.”
“Hehithim?” I gasp, covering my mouth with a trembling hand. “No way.”
“He didn’t just hit him, Blair. He made a fucking punching bag out of his face. Colt stopped him before it got too ugly.”
My head spins. Cody coming to my rescue doesn’t make sense. He hates me. He could’ve left me there so I’d get exactly what I deserved, but... he didn’t.
The idea of him caring, even in the slightest, is comforting and unsettling in equal measure.
“He scooped you off the floor, and when I said you’re staying with me, he was squared up to break my jaw too.”
I narrow my eyes as he mindlessly spears the food on his plate. “What’s on your mind?” I ask, sensing something heavy hanging unspoken in the air.
“Nothing, just...” He trails off, his gaze flickering from me to the doorway. “Is there anything you want to tell me? You know I won’t judge.”
I don’t like the look on his face. “About what?”
He pushes his plate aside to lean forward. “You and Cody, what else would I mean? I was drunk last night, but not fucking blind, Blair. I saw how you squirmed whenever he looked at you. What’s the deal?”
My fork freezes midway to my mouth. “There is no deal. He’s barely said three sentences to me since I moved in.” That’s not entirely true, but I won’t tell Brandon about that night with River. It feels personal. A small secret between us. “Even if I was squirming, it takes two to tango, and you know damn well Cody wouldn’t touch me with a ten-foot pole.”
“That’s just it... I was drunk, sure, but I know what I saw. Every time I looked at Cody, his eyes were fixed on you. Every single time, Blair.”
The room feels suffocating as if the walls are closing in. My mind races with the memory of Cody’s dark eyes tracing my every move and dropping to my mouth time and time again. I thought I imagined it last night, but if Brandon saw it...
No. It can’t be. And even if it was, we were both drunk.
It doesn’t mean anything.
Brandon carries on talking about what happened last night, mentioning Colt and Rose, but my mind swirls around the same question:why?
Why did Cody care what happened to me? Why did he come to my rescue? Why did he bring me home? Why did he give me his hoodie?
The only person who can give me the answers is right across the hall, so when Brandon leaves two hours later, I pluck the courage to knock on his door.
“What did he tell you?” Cody demands after opening the door, his eyes scanning my face for something.
