Chapter Three
This time when the doorbell rang, Court knew better what to expect. He had lain awake half the night, calling himself a thousand versions of an idiot. That didn’t stop him from opening the door to Heath. He looked like a golfer. Court couldn’t explain that thought. Just everything about Heath screamed he was on his way to the golf course. Court tried to treat this like just another job.
“Good morning. You look ready to play.”
“Always look the part.” Heath said the words like repeating from a script. Court found it odd, but moved on.
He stepped out and pulled the door closed behind him. “Obviously, I don’t have any clubs or anything.”
Heath shrugged. “I’m teaching you, remember? You don’t need clubs.”
Court was oddly nervous. He didn’t know why. Court never got apprehensive any longer. This felt different. He forced himself to keep pushing forward. “How was your night?”
Heath looked equally confused by Court—like he expected more raging today. “It went.” He opened the passenger side door for Court. Heath didn’t continue until he was behind the wheel. “I had dinner with my parents.”
Court didn’t know what to say to that. He knew nothing about Heath’s parents other than their status in the community because the elite were a community. They held themselves above all others and tried not to mix. Court was only on the fringes because everyone knew his father. His dad was the dentist for the stars. He was also a gambling addict on the verge of always losing everything without Court.
“What did you do with your night?”
It seemed they would stick to the small talk. “Ordered in and binge-watched a show I’ve been wanting to see. It was good.”
“That sounds way better than my night.” Heath said the words under his breath, but Court didn’t miss them. He could let it pass, but Court wasn’t that strong.
“Do you not get along with your parents?”
“We get along fine.” For a moment, Heath left it at that. After a few seconds passed, he broke. “It’s just tedious. Everything is about image. It’s like we’re not even a family. We’re just sitting together, trying to look like the perfect family—like we’re not even real. Does that make sense?”
Court didn’t want to care about anything remotely related to Heath, but he did get it. “Everyone is fake in this town. If all the spas and cosmetic surgeons left, there’d be nothing here but a bunch of snaggle-toothed, acne ridden, flat ass, pretentious people with small boobs.”
“Except for the men,” Heath said, adding to Court’s list. He was smiling.
“Yep. Except for the men.”
Heath’s smile slipped away. He cleared his throat. His eyes stayed locked on the road while his grip visibly tightened on the steering wheel. “Um. Look. About yesterday, and every day, I suppose, I’m sorry.”
It was definitely an apology Court never expected to get, especially since he truly believed Heath meant it. “I hope you’re not expecting me to say you’re forgiven.”
A hint of a smile reappeared. “No. I don’t expect anything.”
The rest of the ride went by in silence. Court didn’t know what churned through Heath’s mind, but his jaw ticked—like he might snap at any moment. That fascinating tidbit had Court hanging back slightly, watching every minute detail of Heath interacting with people. Everyone they came across through the entire process of getting on the course got a different version of Heath. With older people—like friends of his parents—Heath was polite and reserved while being just the perfect amount of friendly. With the staff, he was all smiles. When they came across people similar in age to them, Heath brightened and said all the right things. Every single version of him was practiced and totally fake. Court was exhausted just watching it happen.
At the first hole, Heath transformed again. His features softened. He looked real. Court felt some way about that, but he didn’t know what yet.
Heath handed him a club. “You need to stretch first.” He showed Court how to twist from side to side, holding the club for support. “Okay. I have to touch you, but I swear it’s completely professional.”
Court spent a moment confused before Heath physically turned him toward the tee. The next thing he knew, he stared down at a ball with Heath’s arms wrapped around him from behind. He helped Court align himself perfectly.
“You see the flag. What’s it going to take to get there?” Heath’s question brushed his ear. Court pulled his mind from that detail and tried envisioning the best way to hit that flag. “You got it?”
Court nodded.
“When I take a step back, I want you to take that image in your mind and combine it with exactly how much force you think you need to hit that ball to get it there.”
Court nodded again.
Heath took a step back.
Court swung. The ball sailed through the air. He was actually kind of proud of how much air it got.
Heath watched it. “Not bad at all.” He looked Court’s way, smiling. “This might just be your game.”
It was back. The flutter Court had felt all those years ago when he secretly lusted after the popular kid. Court looked at him now. That smiling boy everyone flocked to, and Court did everything in his power to get closer. It was him. What in the hell was he supposed to do with that?
By the eighteenth hole, the sun was relentless, beating down on them. Heath nearly sighed in relief when he spotted the cart girl headed their way. It didn’t matter they were almost finished. He was dehydrated as hell. It was a state made worse by the continuous touching. He didn’t want to be attracted to Court, but each time he corrected Court’s stance, the desire got a little harder to ignore.
“Do you guys need anything to drink?”
Heath pasted on his friendliest smile. “Two waters.”
“Sure thing.”
While she dug two bottles of water from an ice chest on her cart, Heath pulled out a pre-folded bill from his pocket. It was perfectly tucked exactly as his father had taught him to keep anyone from seeing the amount. Only new money flashed their wealth. She handed him the waters. He discreetly passed her the bill.
She smiled. “Thank you, and good luck.”
He handed a water to Court.
Court twisted off the cap. “You should let me tip sometimes.”
The offer surprised Heath. Not only was Court contracted to be here, and should—therefore—have all expenses paid, but no one ever offered to pay with him. Heath automatically became his dad out of habit. “Old money always tips but never flashes their money.”
Court eyed him for a second. “You really had some rules drilled into you as a kid, huh?”
Without his brain’s permission, a smile exploded across Heath’s face. “Old money wears brands so expensive no one has ever heard of them unless they have, but with no logos, of course. Those are your people.”
Court’s smile matched his. “Old money doesn’t touch their car door or hand back a menu to a server.”
“Ah. You’ve heard these.”
Court shook his head. “I spend all my time with old money and I’m observant. It’s a subtle difference between privileged and rude, but I see the fine line.”
Heath scoffed. “I’d never be rude. No one wants to get labeled a diva.”
They shared a smile.
Heath realized he was having a much better time than expected. “Have lunch with me.”
To his shock, Court’s smile didn’t waver. “Okay.”
It seemed crazy to press his luck, but he couldn’t stop. All the way to the car, he plotted ways to keep making progress with Court. He had lain awake all night, thinking about the hurt and rage Court had flung his way. Heath didn’t like it. While he might not be the nicest guy, he would like to think he wasn’t the bastard Court believed him to be.
“I remembered something last night. When I said I would’ve at least known your name, I wasn’t completely wrong. You didn’t go by Court back then. You went by Andrew.”
Thankfully, Court didn’t look opposed to the topic. “Yeah. I used to get teased for Court, so I started going by my middle name.”
Heath’s forehead furrowed. “Why would you get teased over Court?”
Court shrugged. “Why does anyone get teased over anything? Kids are assholes.”
He supposed that was true. “What made you decide to go back to Court?”
Court answered as they climbed into the car. “I stopped caring what anyone else thought. My mom named me after her childhood best friend. It was important to her, and I like the name, so fuck everyone else.”
“Fair. Any lunch preferences?”
Court’s phone chirped before he could respond. “Sorry. That’s my front door camera alert.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked around. A low curse left his lips before Court pinched the spot between his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll have to take a rain check for lunch. Do you mind taking me home?”
The immediate devastation on Court’s face had Heath starting the car. “Not at all. Is everything okay?”
“Probably, but not likely,” Court muttered before falling into a quiet stew.
Heath’s nerves stretched from the strained quiet. His heart dropped when he pulled into Court’s driveway. For some reason Heath didn’t understand, Court’s father, Drue, was doing his best to destroy Court’s front door. It looked as if he had already demolished everything on the front porch. Heath didn’t ask what was happening or if Court needed help. He simply parked and jumped out when Court did. Father or not, Heath wouldn’t drive away and let Court get hurt.
“Dad. What in the fuck are you doing? You know you’re not allowed here.”
The guy’s blond hair was a mess, and his clothes were wrinkled. He went from raving lunatic to perfectly calm at the sight of Court. “You moved your spare key.”
Court scrubbed at his forehead. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he repeated, sounding tired. “I have a restraining order.”
Heath was confused but invested. This was definitely gossip he hadn’t heard.
Drue’s dark blue eyes that looked so much like his son’s moved between Court and Heath and back again. He looked more calculating by the second. “You weren’t home, so I wasn’t breaking the terms of the order. You’re the one who showed up and is breaking it.”
“You’re at my house.” The exasperation in Court’s voice made Heath wonder how often this happened. “So, what? You just came to break in while I wasn’t home?”
Drue shifted from foot to foot. “I didn’t break in. The key is missing.”
“You’re the reason it’s missing, Dad. I have nothing left to give you. Now leave before I call the cops. Mom shouldn’t have to keep bailing you out.”
Anger flashed in Drue’s eyes. It was beyond obvious the pair had forgotten Heath stood there. “I’m your father. You wouldn’t have anything without me.” He jabbed himself in the chest. “I’m the one who worked his fingers to the bone so your spoiled ass could have the best of everything and look what it got me. Nothing but an ungrateful son who won’t see his father.”
“How much do you owe?” Court’s voice sounded dead.
“It’s not about that, Court.”
“How much do you owe?” Court repeated.
Drue swallowed. “Seventy-five thousand.”
“Sev—” Court paced away and ran his fingers through his hair, looking ready to tear it out by the roots. He turned back. “How did you even get that deep when you know you don’t have it?”
Drue’s hands rose and fell. “Saul knows I’m good for it.”
“Saul… You’re…” Court looked so enraged, almost like he didn’t know where to start. “You’re not good for shit!” He yelled the words at the top of his lungs. “You got in deep because you knew you could come crawling here. Well, you know what? Not this time.”
Drue went from stoic to pleading in an instant. “We’re talking about Saul Gabris. I can’t go back empty-handed to the goddamn mob. He’ll kill me.”
“Good.” The spite in Court’s voice nearly had Heath taking a step back.
“You don’t mean that. No matter what, I’m still your dad.”
Court sliced his hand through the air, as if he had heard enough. He dug his phone from his pocket. “You stopped being my dad when you chose your addiction over your family. I’m calling the police now. I seriously doubt Saul will kill you, since you have zero qualms about losing all my money in his casino. But maybe if he breaks your goddamn kneecaps, you’ll learn your lesson, because I am fucking done.”
The pleading turned to fury. The switch flipped so fast, Heath didn’t see it coming. It seemed Court fully expected the attack.
“You ungrateful little bastard.” Drue leapt from the porch steps, obviously prepared to jump Court, swinging.
Like he saw it coming before it happened, Court’s fist shot out, landing in the center of Drue’s face. Drue immediately hit the ground. Court stepped over him and headed for the door. Heath followed. He didn’t know the full extent of what was happening, but he knew he couldn’t leave Court alone.