by Jewel E. Ann
“Who is he?”
He’s life.
My dad is no idiot. He made reading the enemy a profession.
“If I tell you, can you refrain from injuring him?”
He takes a pull of his beer, eyeing me with suspicion. “Probably not.”
“Then he’s nobody.”
I return to my last taco.
“So you know I’m going to do some serious bodily harm to him. Give your old man a break and at least give me motive for when they arrest me.”
He took my virginity, my heart, and my whole fucking world. Then he gave it back. But I didn’t want it back.
“I think you should let Juni fix you up with someone. She told me she’s offered to do that for you.”
“Changing the subject will not change the outcome for that young man behind me, but in response to your ridiculous suggestion, the answer is no. I’m not having the mother of my child set me up on a date. It’s …” He shakes his head, wearing a sour look on his face.
“Yeah, I can see how dating one of Juni’s supermodel friends could be a little torturous.”
“We’re done talking about this.” He dives into his food, and we let the rest of our dinner disappear in silence.
After the check is paid, he slides back in his chair. “Just one more order of business …”
“No!” I reach over the table and grab his arm.
“Who is he, Henna?”
Finally, I risk one more glance up, but Bodhi and his pretty friend are gone. I exhale.
“Doesn’t matter. He’s gone. I’ll order a ride. Let’s go.”
The driver is three minutes away. As we emerge from the restaurant, I almost run into the blonde standing next to Bodhi a few feet from the curb.
Shit.
And there it is, the pain I couldn’t completely feel before. But when Bodhi looks over at me as Dad and I wait next to them, everything hurts the way it did when I got on that plane to leave him over two years ago, the way it did when he called me to let me go.
“Hi,” he says politely because he’s older and more mature than me.
I can’t find a single word, not even a noise that could resemble one because I’m ready to fall apart after working so hard to piece myself back together. With one word, he’s threatened all of that.
The blonde gives me a tiny, confused smile as her eyes flit between me and Bodhi.
“Hi.” My dad offers his hand to Bodhi.
What the fuck?
“Mr. Malone, right? You were Henna’s guidance counselor, right? She’s told me so much about you.”
Okay, now my dad’s just being an asshole. I love him, but he’s still an asshole. He knew exactly who Mr. Nobody was when he saw him in the restaurant. He just thought it would be fun to toy with me.
Not fun.
Not cool.
Total asshole—that I, of course, love.
Bodhi shakes my dad’s hand, again being a grownup while I flounder wordlessly. “Bodhi. And yes, you are correct.”
“Mitch, I’m her dad.”
“Our car!” Yay, look at me, finding two solid words.
Dad gets in the front, and I hop in the back, but Bodhi grabs my door before I can shut it. I look up at him.
He doesn’t grin. Doesn’t show any emotion in his expression. “Ride share.”
I glance at my phone. Really? Is my stupid app on a default ride share setting or am I just that clueless when tapping the options? It’s history repeating itself in the worst possible way.
Scooting over to the far side, Bodhi gets in the middle with blondie on the other side. The night couldn’t get any worse.
Ugh!
Dad glances over his shoulder with a single brow raised. I squint at him as I plaster myself against the door. Bodhi’s arm presses into mine as he fastens his seatbelt. My lungs collapse.
“Buckle up.” He gives me a look, not a smile, not really anything other than the way the driver might look at me if he were the one telling me to buckle up.
I fumble with the seatbelt. When did my hands start shaking? Bodhi covers my hand with his. I glance up at him and tears sting my eyes, so I focus on the seatbelt again. He takes it from me and fastens it.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
His touch ripped off the Band-Aid I’ve had over my heart. One touch and I want to cry. I hate time right now. We were stupid, young, and naive to think we were immune to its effects. If only my body were immune to his touch.
“Jax and Harper are in the bar at the hotel. Do you want to hang out with them for a while?” Blondie rests her hand on Bodhi’s leg like she did at the restaurant.
Am I jealous? Absolutely.
Can I justify my feelings? No.
Still, my mind does its own thing.
Bodhi doesn’t drink. Of course he doesn’t want to hang out in a bar.
Oh, and did you know he’s mine? Yeah, I made that claim years ago.
Did you know we have our names carved into a log?
Do you like California spring rolls? I bet you eat raw fish.
Turning away from her hand on his leg, I watch the traffic outside of my window for a few seconds before closing my eyes. I’m not this person. The woman on the other side of Bodhi is probably very kind. And maybe he likes her hand on his leg. I left him. It wasn’t fair to ask him to wait for me.
If only realizing this—the truth—could ease the blow. But it doesn’t.
“Sure,” he answers her.
The truth tightens its hold on my heart.
“So you were Bodhi’s student?” She leans forward to see me.
I pull in as much air as my weak lungs can take, and I turn to face her without looking at Bodhi, who I know is staring at me. “For a few months, then I dropped out.”
“Oh.” She gives Bodhi an awkward look like she said something wrong.
“I had the chance to travel the world. So I did. Mr. Malone…” I grin “…Bodhi, encouraged me to do it.”
It’s half the truth.
My dad glances over his shoulder, shooting Bodhi a scowl. Bodhi adjusts in his seat, likely feeling every ounce of my father’s disapproval.
“Dude…” the blonde nudges Bodhi “…you’re a guidance counselor and you encouraged a student to drop out of high school. That takes some big balls.” She laughs.
Things I learned in my travels: After seeing three other sets of balls, Bodhi’s are large and so is his cock; they’re not all created equally.
He clears his throat. “I’m not certain that’s how it played out.”
I give him a quick glance before looking back out my window. “It was a couple years ago. I don’t recall the specific details.” I shrug.
“So did you travel the world?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“That’s awesome. Are you going to finish school?”
I shrug.
“Well, I’d put my plans on hold if I could afford to travel the world. Did you go to Paris and find a handsome French man to steal your heart?”
If she could stop talking, said heart would appreciate it.
I shake my head. “I didn’t go to Paris.”
“Really? That’s the first place I’d go.”
Of course she would. I close my eyes again and give myself a good scolding for being this way, showing my claws.
The driver stops in front of the hotel. And of course, it’s our hotel and Bodhi’s.
Thank you, fate. You suck tonight.
I jump out my side instead of waiting for Bodhi and his friend to get out.
My dad stretches and yawns, waiting for me to come around the car. “Damn … I’m too old for this.”
“You are.” I smirk, pushing his back to nudge him toward the revolving door, leaving Bodhi and his friend behind us.
“Are you Henna?” blond friend calls, saying my name slowly.
Blowing out a quick breath, I turn just after we get inside the hotel lobby—fake smile pinned to my face. “Yes?”
She narrows her eyes. “Are you … I mean you look like …”
Here we go.
“Zachary Phillips’s daughter and …” Her eyes widen with each word.
My dad’s chest presses to my back, his hand rests possessively on my shoulder.
“And Juni Carlisle’s. That’s you, isn’t it?” She shares her questioning look with Bodhi.
“My daughter. Henna Lane is Mitchell Lane’s daughter. I’m Mitchell Lane.”
Down boy.
I give him a slight elbow in the gut. He gets along well with Zach. I’m not sure why her slight misstep in wording has him going all Papa Bear.
“This is my dad, Mitch, and yes, Juni is my mother. Zach is my stepdad.”
“Oh my gosh!” She gives Bodhi a WTF look. “You had Zachary Phillips’s daughter as a student and you didn’t say anything?”
My dad starts to correct her again. I give him a slight head shake and another nudge with my elbow.
“Honestly …” Bodhi shrugs, sharing a tight-lipped smile and eyebrows peaked, “I didn’t know at first. I don’t keep up with that stuff.”
“You need to come have a drink with us.” She puts her hands together in a prayer fold at her chest. “Oh …” She cringes at my dad. “Is she …” She looks at me. “Are you twenty-one?”
I nod. “Yes, but—”
“Please, please, please.”
Dad grumbles something under his breath. I think it’s “tell her no,” but I miss it.
“Just one.”
Bodhi’s face tenses just before I turn to my dad. “Go to bed. I’ll be up later. Don’t wait up.” He yawns again. I don’t think it will be an issue.
I know he’s dying to say something protective, but he knows it would be ridiculous at this point in my life.
“Be smart.” He bends down and kisses my cheek.
I smile.
When I turn back around, blond girl shoves her hand toward me. “I’m Rayne by the way. And thank you for saying yes. I’ll try not to talk your ear off, but I have so many questions for you.” She grabs my arm like we’re BFFs and pulls me toward the bar with Bodhi in tow. “Have you met …” She spews off every major music act to grace the charts in the last decade.
While we wait for a booth, along with their friends, Jax and Harper, I blow Rayne’s mind with just how many famous people I know or have met. It didn’t hit me until now just how honest and simple my relationship was with Bodhi. We met through our shared love of music. There was an instant connection, but it never had anything to do with my family, their connections, or what he could gain by befriending me. Because he had no idea who I was, yet … he knew me better than anyone.
We’re seated in a small round booth.
“Bodhi, you’d better sit between Henna and Rayne, so she doesn’t scare Henna away. I’m like totally frightened for her.” Harper winks at Rayne.
Rayne flips her the middle finger while sliding into the booth. Bodhi slides in next to her, and I, in fact, end up next to Bodhi. And when I say next to Bodhi, I mean our arms and legs are touching because I’m the fifth wheel in a booth made for four.
“I’m sorry,” Bodhi mouths while Rayne chatters with Jax and Harper.
I shake my head and give him an it’s-okay smile.
“Sooo … Henna was Bodhi’s student.” Rayne shifts the conversation back to me.
Hurray.
“Student?” Jax grins at Bodhi. “Thought you were a guidance counselor. Who was stupid enough to give you students?”
Bodhi sips his water. “They’re all my students. I’m the keeper of schedules and sanity. The school would not function without me.”
I laugh a little, welcoming the small crack in the tension.
“My guidance counselor sure as hell wasn’t the fine snack that Bodhi is.” Rayne leans into Bodhi playfully, which causes him to lean into me. Which causes me to feel tingly all over—and warm. I’m ready to spontaneously combust.
The next hour turns into Henna fest. Henna did this. Henna did that. Anyone who didn’t know the truth would think Rayne was in fact my best friend because she seems to know a lot about me, and what she doesn’t know she manages to drag out of me like a million details about my travels. I feel a little guilty that they are hearing this before my dad.
I keep my gaze on Bodhi’s friend more than him, but when I give him an occasional quick glance, he has a smile on his face like he’s proud? Maybe even happy?
I don’t know. But I guess if his intention was to break my heart so I would follow through with my plans, then he should feel good about the outcome.
Too bad I don’t. It’s hard to explain. I don’t regret anything. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I’m grateful beyond words that I was given that opportunity. But here I am, two years later, and the man that I love is being touched by another woman, and all I have are memories that won’t hold my hand or keep me warm at night. They won’t take me on horseback rides. They won’t eat California spring rolls with me. They won’t ask me to marry them. And they won’t love me back.
“Well …” I nod my head toward the exit. “I’m going to call it a night. Thank you. It’s been fun.”
“Thank you!” Rayne leans over the front of Bodhi and pulls me in for an awkward hug.
I stiffen as Bodhi’s hand slides along my leg. Is he doing it intentionally? Is he just trying to find a place to put his hand since Rayne and I are practically hugging on his lap? His warm hand on my bare leg does very embarrassing things to me.
My cheeks flush instantly, and I’m wet between my legs, so hungry for his touch.
As Rayne releases me, so does Bodhi. Tipping my chin to hide my embarrassing reaction to him, I mumble another quick goodbye and speed walk out of the bar.
CHAPTER THIRTY
LAST NIGHT I slipped into the hotel room and grabbed my nightshirt while my dad snored like a champ. Then I took a twenty-minute shower and fingered myself into a Bodhi-induced orgasm.
This morning I feel better. Calmer. And ready for another day of Coachella with my dad. The heat is off the charts. They say the hottest spring on record. In true Hell, I-don’t-give-a-shit fashion, I’m wearing an Alice blue, strapless sundress that doesn’t cover much, my silver Birkies, and lots of bracelets. My travels didn’t allow for my henna tattoos, which sucks because they would look amazing with all the skin showing today.
“Bethanne?” My dad nods for me to follow him over a few feet as we wait for the next act to come out on stage.
A dark-haired woman turns. “Mitchell Lane.” She grins and falls into his open arms.
“How long has it been?” he asks, setting her back on her feet. It was quite the hug.
“At least ten years.”
Dad turns. “Bethanne, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Henna. Henna, this is Bethanne. Her husband and I were in the Marines together.”
They share a sad smile. I don’t ask, but it’s pretty obvious that said husband is no longer alive.
“Nice to meet you.” I smile.
“You too. And don’t let your dad lie to you. Alan and your dad were in the same band before they both enlisted.”
I raise my eyebrows. Dad grins, nodding slowly like he’s remembering the good ol’ days.
“You here by yourself?” he asks her.
“Will you judge me as a pathetic old woman if I say yes?”
“You’re younger than me.” He bites his lower lip.
Is he flirting with her? Okay, I’m out of here. “So … I’m going to see if I can find um … Carley. I’ll text you later?”
Carley is not here. I grasp for the easy excuse.
“Yeah, sure. Be careful.”
“It was nice meeting you.” Bethanne holds up her hand.
I mirror her gesture. “You too.”
Instead of looking for a friend who I know is not even in California, I worm my way toward the front of the stage just as an electric guitar cuts through the stacks of speakers. The crowd comes to life and
the technicolor of lights start to dance around to the building beat.
“What’s up, COACHELLA!” the lead singer yells before diving into the lyrics.
I throw my arms in the air and give my own scream because the energy is contagious. But I can’t stay. I’m on a mission: find Bodhi and see why he touched my leg.
I’m not going to ask him that in those exact words, but I need to know why and if he felt it like I did. I need to know why he let me go, even if I know it’s because of his dad and his self-induced prison sentence. He needs to tell me to my face that he doesn’t want me anymore, that he’s met someone else.
Swallowing a year and half of pride, I message him.
Me: Where are you?
He doesn’t respond right away, so I bob my head to the beat and envy those around me who are ten stories high on weed. I could use a little hit at the moment.
Bodhi: Hotel.
I start to type something, but wait … why would he be at the hotel? Unless he’s with Rayne and they’re …
My stomach starts to reject the last meal I fed it. I don’t respond. He’s a grown man. We ended. He has needs. Rayne clearly is capable of filling them.
A few minutes later, my phone chimes.
Bodhi: Why?
Me: Nothing. Sorry to disturb you.
I told him Noah kissed me. He should just tell me he’ll talk later after he gets done fucking Rayne. That’s fair. I deserve it.
Bodhi: Room 312
Please be alone and not inviting me for a threesome.
I don’t text back. Instead, I hop on the first shuttle back to the hotel. Am I ready to be alone with him? No one to distract us from the elephant in the room? Probably not, but I take the elevator to the third floor and knock on room 312 anyway.
After a few seconds, he opens the door.
“Hey.” His gaze eats me up. “Nice dress.”
If before I showed up I wasn’t acutely aware of how little it covers, I am now. “Thank you.”
He holds open the door. I take cautious steps into his hotel room, inspecting my surroundings for any signs that a woman has been in here with him.
“Why are you here?” I ask, pulling open his shades to check out his not-so-awesome view of the roof to the pool area.