“And?”
“And I told him.” He couldn’t even look at Logan as he said it. “And then . . .”
“Then?”
“We . . .” His cheeks burned. “Well, we—”
“Holy shit!”
“Yeah. Exactly. But afterward, he freaked right the fuck out and bolted.”
“But . . .” Logan sounded as confused as Cody felt. “I thought—”
“It doesn’t matter.” But it did. God, as much as he hated to admit it, it did. “Forget it, all right? It’s over.”
Logan didn’t mention Nate again the rest of the week, but Cody noticed how he glared at Nate off and on during social studies. It was almost enough to make him smile.
Almost.
But even Logan’s outrage wasn’t enough to ease Cody’s heartache. He’d never felt so alone. He didn’t dare think about the field. For one brief, miraculous moment, he’d been lost in the sheer exhilaration of knowing Nate wanted him the same way he wanted Nate. But he’d felt that freeze go through Nate a half a minute after he’d come, and when that happened, every emotion in Cody’s heart seemed to disappear. He was as barren as the Wyoming plains, the wind scouring his insides clean until there was nothing left but bone.
Friendship with Nate had never really been an option. A romance with Nate? Well, that had been a stupid dream at best, too foolish to even think about. Cody kicked himself again and again for ever daring to believe it might be possible. He replayed their encounter in the field, wondering how different things might have been if he’d only lied. Or if he’d never reached across the wagon and put his hand on Nate’s knee. How much better might this have ended if he’d never known the way Nate’s breath caught in his throat at Cody’s touch?
No, he never should have let that happen.
Too late now.
He was glad for work, thankful for an excuse to be away from his dank little trailer. He threw himself into the mindless task, basking in the hot, soapy water as cold descended outside, hoping to wash away the pain, to see all his loneliness and anger go spinning the drain.
It never did, though.
Two days after the incident in the field, somebody knocked on Cody’s front door.
He was at the kitchen table, working on math homework, while his mom watched TV. They looked at each other, both of them seeming to ask the same silent question. You expecting anyone?
Cody’s mom shook her head.
Cody was closer, so he went to the door and opened it a crack. What he saw through the screen made his heart sink.
“It’s the police,” he said to his mom, without opening the storm door, and without taking his eyes off the man on the other side of it. He was in uniform, but he wasn’t anybody Cody recognized.
His mom came to the door, edging Cody out of the way and blocking the entire opening with her body, as if she could shield Cody from whatever this was.
“What do you want?”
The cop squinted at her. “Are you Cyndi Prudhomme?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes. Can I come in?”
“You have a warrant?”
“No.”
She held up her hands, as if it were somehow out of her control and she wasn’t the one denying him entrance. “Guess you’re not coming inside, then.”
“Is your son at home?”
“You know he is. You just saw him.”
“I need to speak with him.”
“My son’s not eighteen yet, so if you have something to say, you can say it to me.”
Cody smiled, despite himself. He’d be eighteen in only a week, but it was nice that his mom seemed so determined to stand up for him.
“Ma’am—” the cop started to say.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Cody said. “I haven’t done anything.”
She glanced over at him, her lips narrowing. “You never do, but it sure doesn’t stop them from knocking on our door every time something goes wrong.”
But she moved out of the way and let the police officer step in. He stopped just inside the door, clearly waiting to be invited to sit down, but Cody wasn’t feeling that generous. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
“You’re Cody?”
“Yes.”
“Cody, I’m Officer Bradford. I—”
“Bradford?”
Now it was the cop’s turn to look confused. “Yes.”
“Nate’s dad?” Because suddenly, this was looking far worse than he’d ever imagined.
The man’s eyes narrowed. “Yes.”
Was he here because of what had happened with Nate? Had Nate told him that Cody had forced himself on him? Cody’s cheeks burned. He glanced toward his mother, wondering if he could ask her to leave without arousing any suspicion.