Sighing contentedly, I laid my head on his chest and stroked his stomach. Cody wrapped his arm around me, rubbing slow circles onto my shoulder.
“Being with you, like this,” Cody began, his voice gruff. “I feel … I feel…”
He swore under his breath, frustrated that he couldn’t get the words out.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, leaning up to look at him. “I feel it, too. You don’t have to explain. Let’s just enjoy today.”
“I can do that,” he said, smiling softly.
I dipped down to kiss his full lips and then he captured my body, tugging me on top of him.
Eventually, our rough kisses calmed, becoming gentle and loving, instead of heated and bruising.
I sat up with a happy sigh and started unbuttoning my uniform blouse. Cody’s eyes watched my fingers’ downward progression. When I slipped it off to reveal my bikini underneath, I half-expected his eyeballs to pop out of his head and go rolling down the beach. He seemed paralyzed watching me, so I made a show of unbuttoning my shorts, then threw them in his face as I ran to the sea.
I heard his muffled yelp behind me, but made the mistake of looking over my shoulder as he yanked off his t-shirt and came charging toward me.
I let out a squeal and tried to run away, but he caught me around the waist and we both fell sideways.
I shrieked as the chilly water engulfed me, the sound ending with a gurgle as I swallowed a mouthful of ocean.
Then I felt Cody’s hands around me, pulling me upright. Water poured from my body as I coughed and spluttered. Cody was laughing helplessly as he picked a piece of seaweed out of my hair, his skin sparkling as water dewed on his chest.
That moment—that was one I wanted to fix in my memory bank of special days. The brilliant blue sky, the warm sun, and Cody’s eyes happy and laughing, and so full of love. It took my breath away.
“I love you,” I said.
His smile froze.
“What?”
“I love you, Cody Richards.”
His head dropped toward his chest and my heart stuttered, taken aback by his reaction.
“You weren’t supposed to love me,” he said, his voice oddly pained.
I laughed nervously. “Well, tough! Because I do.”
He didn’t say anything and couldn’t even look at me.
“Well, this is awkward,” I said, forcing myself to hold back my imminent tears.
I’d already turned away and started walking when he caught my arm.
“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry … I just…”
“It’s okay,” I said, numbly.
“No! Fuck, no! It’s not okay. God, Ava, I love you so much and I’d give you the world if I could, but…”
I caught onto the only words that mattered.
“You love me?”
His words shuddered to a halt.
“Yes,” he said, gazing into my eyes. “So much. I love you, Ava, so much.”
And that was another precious moment that I’d never forget: the moment that Cody said he loved me.
We held each other in silence, the shallow water rippling around our knees.
That day held so many special moments after our murmured words of love. We swam in the sea, walked along the beach holding hands, ate ice creams, dozed in the sunshine, our arms and legs tangled together like two puppies. It was as if we were building a lifetime of memories in that one day.
As the sun began to sink, we gathered driftwood and built a campfire, shielded by the dune from the soft breeze that sprang up.
And then, shrouded by the gathering night, we made love.
It started with a touch, the smallest brush of his fingers against mine when he passed me a piece of wood to toss onto the fire.
Sparks shot into the air and I watched them for a moment before turning toward him, resting my hand on the warm skin of thigh, just above his knee, and just below where the material of his boardshorts ended.
“Be with me,” I said.
He closed his eyes as if he was in pain. “Don’t ask me, Ava, because I won’t be able to say no, and I know I should.”
I knew what he meant, because he was going away and didn’t want to start anything. He was wrong, of course; we’d already started something and I didn’t want it to stop.
“Be with me now,” I repeated. “Now is what matters. Isn’t that what you’ve been saying to me? That each moment is precious?”
I moved my hand higher up his thigh, under his shorts, and he moaned softly.
I reached across with my other hand, sliding my fingers up his bare chest, over the thick ridges of his muscles, feeling his ribs beneath his smooth, satiny skin.
I kneeled up, both hands reaching around his neck, stroking the soft hair at his nape. I nuzzled his cheek, brushing my nose across his jaw, then licking up his neck to his earlobe and biting gently.
He exploded into movement, his hands everywhere, pulling me toward him—touching, tasting, molding, squeezing, stroking.
He was rough at first, his eagerness making him clumsy, his lips bruising mine. Then he gentled, his mouth murmuring my name against my heated skin, trailing hot, wet kisses across my breasts.
“So beautiful,” he whispered. “So soft.”
He slid the straps of my bikini from my shoulders, kissing the sun-reddened skin tenderly. His hand shook as he raised it to my breast, cupping it gently, swallowing my moan of pleasure as his tongue lapped against mine.
His free hand fumbled behind my back, trying and failing to undo the catch. I reached around and snapped it open, my breasts spilling free. He gasped slightly, then bowed his head, pausing as if seeking permission, then running his tongue around my nipples, warming, wetting, heating, tugging them with his teeth.
Desire built up inside me, pulsing softly, and I gripped his hips, my fingers digging into the skin covering the bone. When I pushed my hands under the waistband of his shorts, he hissed with pleasure.
He sucked on my neck and my bare breasts pushed into his chest as I arched my back to his touch.
Raising his head slowly, he cupped his hands around my face.
“Tell me again,” he pleaded. “Say what you said.”
My mind was spinning from his touch and his taste, trembling with want. I knew what I wanted, but I also knew what he needed.
“I love you,” I repeated. “So much.”
A soft cry escaped him, and his lips were on mine again; asking, taking, answering.
I pushed him backwards gently, until he was lying flat against the sleeping bag. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, and the bright moon highlighted his cheekbones and the hollow of shadow beneath.
I leaned forward, my hands braced on either side of his body, and kissed up his stomach to his chest. He quivered with every touch, panting breaths escaping him as his hands hovered over my back, tentatively stroking my skin.
As I rose up his body, he took my breast in his mouth, suckling eagerly until I was a wet, moaning mess plastered across him.
He rolled me gently onto my side, my right hip digging into the sand, my left thigh dragging over his waist.
He was warm and solid between my legs, grinding softly against me. Then his fingertips danced along my spine, drawing heat to the surface wherever he touched. He toyed with the material at the edge of my bikini bottoms, again asking permission.
“Yes, touch me. Touch me everywhere.”
His fingers eased lower, and my body arched suddenly as he reached the wet heat between my legs. He rubbed gently at first, then with increasing speed and force as my body convulsed around him.
His eyes were wide, watching my face as I came.
I rolled onto my back, gasping as Cody peppered my chin and cheeks and neck, spoiling my breasts with long, languid kisses as I floated back to earth.
“No,” I said, quietly.
His body was suddenly tense. “No, what?” he asked warily.
“No, we’re not finished,” I said, h
uskily. “Not by a long shot.”
I wriggled out of my bikini bottoms and tossed them behind me. Then I reached over to grip the erection that tented his shorts. His whole body shuddered and he closed his eyes.
I thought he was going to argue, but the moment I slipped my hand inside his shorts, he lost the power of speech. He was smooth and hard, solid and silky, twitching restlessly against my palm.
I pulled his shorts down and he helped me by raising his butt from the sleeping bag, and kicking them free.
I explored his body with my hands and tongue, learning every dip and curve, every hard muscle and soft tissue, every ticklish spot, and the places that made him moan and sigh. And then I took his long, thick shaft in my mouth, and when I peered up, I could see the tendons on his neck as he clenched his teeth.
A fine sweat broke out across his body, making his skin glow in the orange firelight.
He fought his own impulse to grip me hard, his hands digging into the sleeping bag and twisting it in his fists.
Realizing he was about to come, I slowed down, licking one last time before kneeling up and straddling his hips.
“I don’t … have … anything,” he gasped, as I smiled down at him.
“You don’t need anything,” I said, kissing his parted lips. “I’ve taken care of it.”
I slid down on top of him, gasping slightly at the fullness, the connection, the searing touch of a man inside me—of Cody inside me.
His large hands grabbed my hips and he bent his knees, giving me better traction. I moved hard and fast and selfishly, wanting to a feel everything at once. My belly fluttered, a tightness and lightness flickering along my spine. Stars above and stars below, my body moved blindly, finding a punishing fluidity as we crashed together. Cody’s body heaved beneath me and I cried out. His own sob muted and astonished.
I collapsed on top of him, my hot breaths dampening his skin. His arms swept around me and he hugged me tightly.
“I love you,” I gasped, as his arms squeezed me tighter.
We lay together, a tangle of arms and legs, relaxed in body and soul. My fingers drew lazy patterns on his hipbone and Cody sighed contentedly.
“I never knew,” he said, kissing my neck.
“What didn’t you know?”
“How good that would feel.”
I paused in my happy mindless stroking.
“That was your first time, wasn’t it?”
He coughed out a laugh. “Was it that obvious?”
“No,” I said, truthfully. “It was really good. I’m just surprised that no girl ever snapped you up before.”
And although I didn’t admit it, I was giddy with pleasure that I had been his first.
“But the evening isn’t over,” I said, “unless you want it to be.”
He shook his head slowly. “I never want this evening to be over. Ever.” Then he paused. “It’ll be my birthday in a few hours.”
“What?” I was shocked and a little hurt that he hadn’t mentioned it before. “Why didn’t you tell me!”
“I wasn’t planning on celebrating it,” he said, simply.
“But this is a big deal! Now you’re only three years younger than me.”
He laughed softly. “I like being your boy toy.”
“Good, because I want to do that again,” I said.
And we did, sleeping, waking, making love, the whole night long.
Dawn was approaching as we finally left the beach, exhausted and satiated.
Cody drove slowly to my apartment, feeling the same reluctance I felt to let this perfect night end.
When he pulled up, he gripped my arms and pulled me toward him, kissing me deeply and desperately, unwilling, unable to let me go.
I felt tears in my eyes, and I didn’t know why.
“I wish…” I began to say.
But Cody interrupted me. “No, don’t wish for anything else. We had 10 wishes, and all of mine have come true. That’s enough for me.”
I kissed him again and again, and there was nothing left to say.
I climbed wearily out of the cab after ravaging his lips for one last time.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you to the stars and beyond,” he replied.
I couldn’t wait to see Cody’s expression when I turned up with his favorite blueberry muffins. I know he’d said over and over that he didn’t celebrate his birthday, but there was no way he was going to turn down freshly-baked muffins. Not when they were his favorites.
Even though I’d got home after dawn, I hadn’t been able to sleep. The memories of the night before crowded through my mind; the way he’d touched me, the way we’d touched each other. Each kiss, each caress, every laugh, every second of a magical night. It had never been like that before.
I was still kind of amazed when he’d told me it was his first time. It was the one thing that didn’t add up. How could a guy who was as hot as Cody, and as sweet, not have been beating girls off with a stick? I was more than happy that it had been me with him last night—but why?
Not that it mattered—not when what we had felt so amazing.
I was still smiling when I turned into his street.
I saw the police car first, and wondered if someone had been burglarized. But as I drove closer, I could see that there was an ambulance, too.
A cold feeling crawled up my spine, and I gripped the steering wheel tightly.
I had to park several doors down because the police car and the ambulance were both outside Cody’s house. My knees felt weak as I climbed out of the car and hurried toward them.
A police officer stopped me, holding out her arm.
“You can’t come in, miss.”
“But my boyfriend lives here. Cody Richards. I have muffins,” I said, stupidly. “It’s his birthday.”
The officer gave me a look of such sympathy that I began to feel desperate.
“Just a moment.”
She turned away and spoke into her police radio. It spat and crackled, then she waved me forward.
A woman was standing at the door and I knew straight away that this was Cody’s mother. She had the same black hair and striking pale blue eyes.
“Ava?” she asked.
I nodded dumbly, too choked to speak.
“I’m Sarah, Cody’s mom. You’d better come in,” she said, quietly.
I followed her into the living room and stood stiffly in front of the battered couch.
“What’s going on? Is Cody okay? Where is he?”
Her shoulders began to shake and I knew, I just knew. She tried to speak but she couldn’t, and then she put her hands over face and started to cry. I pulled her into my arms, this stranger who looked so much like the man I loved, and I held her.
And tears were pouring down my face, too.
We held each other for a long time before either of us tried to speak.
She passed me a tissue and we both half-laughed, half-sobbed, wiping our splotchy faces.
“Cody … died this morning,” she said, at last.
Even though I knew that’s what she was going to say, I couldn’t, couldn’t believe it.
“What happened?” I asked, shakily.
She let out a long sigh, then turned to face me.
“Sit with me, Ava.”
Exhausted and hurt, far, far from being cried out, with tears threatening to flow again, I sat next to her.
“Cody had cancer. He’d been fighting it since he was 13.”
When I was 13, someone I knew well got sick with cancer—you could say it was a life-changing experience.
Oh, God! He’d been talking about himself.
“He had radiation therapy, and chemo seemed to beat it. He lost all his hair and missed a lot of school, but we thought he was getting better. He did for a while. But the next year it came back. So it was more hospital stays, more treatment—painful, invasive treatment. Cody’s father couldn’t take it and eventually he left us. Cody blamed himself for that, but
really his father just didn’t have the strength to watch his son suffer anymore. Some days, neither did I. But Cody was so strong, such a fighter.”
I nodded slowly. “He wanted to live.”
Sarah gave a small smile. “Yes, he did. He wanted to experience life … before he died.” She sighed. “He missed most of high school because he was so sick, but he insisted he wasn’t going to be a drop-out and he got his GED. Any college would have been glad to have him. But he knew he was out of time.”
He’d said it. He’d tried to tell me: Life is too short to live with regrets.
“The cancer came back again.”
“Yes. For the third time. The doctors wanted to give him more treatments, more chemo. But Cody didn’t want that. He said he’d had enough of hospitals, and that he wanted to spend his last few months enjoying life, not waiting for death. When I had the chance of a job in San Diego, he made me take it. He said it would be a new start for both of us, even though we knew he didn’t have long to live. And he’d never even left Kansas.”
I was crying again as she told her story.
“We didn’t really have any friends to leave behind—too many years spent in hospitals, I suppose. Cody loved living here, by the ocean. And then he met you.”
Sarah held my hand tightly.
“You made him so happy, Ava. I’d never seen him like that—like a normal, teenage boy, in love for the first time.”
I made a small, choking sound, and she pulled me into her arms.
“He did. He loved you so much. These last two months … I’m so grateful.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?” I sobbed.
“Because you gave him a real life that was nothing to do with sickness and hospitals. You loved him for himself. You did love him, didn’t you?”
I nodded, but I couldn’t get the words out.
I rested my head on her shoulder as the tears continued to fall.
“He decided a long time ago that when the cancer started to win, he was going to … the phrase he used was ‘take himself out of the game’.”
“What?”
“Cody didn’t want to go back to hospital. Ever. He’d seen enough of death; he knew exactly what to expect, and he didn’t want that. So he’d collected the pills he needed to end things on his own terms.”
Playing in the Rain Page 10