Page 5 of Enslaved

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 hangingback 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.”

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