by TC Matson
“Let me rinse my cup out and I’m right behind you.”
He waits as I do as I said and place the cup into his dishwasher. After grabbing my purse, he walks me out to my car and pulls the door open for me. “Call me later.” And he leaves me with a tingle on my lips from a kiss.
There is definitely more to Cody than I ever knew.
NINETEEN
When Aimee opened up to me while lying in my arms in the dark, the little sliver she gave me bared her soul. She trusted me with the ugliest parts of her heart—insecurity and fear. Not that I can fault her for it. She’s just getting past a heartbreak from someone she thought would never break her heart and here I am, punished for his mistakes. But as long as she’s here letting me slip in little by little, I’ll be patient and prove to her she can trust me.
Seeing how she was last night brought back the guilt I had as I watched Veronica’s face when I told her what I did. I saw the heartbreak in her hazel eyes as they filled with tears. I hated myself that day and so many after, but it was my defining moment. I vowed to never be that guy again, to lower myself to being unprincipled just for a night of fun. Although it was a colossal mistake, I walked away with gained knowledge and a new me.
In my meeting with the client relations department, I couldn’t help but get lost in my thoughts of Aimee and wonder if my actions punished the next guy for Veronica. Did I dim her light that shined from within her? Aimee shines, but it’s shrouded with distrust and I hate it. She deserves to radiate.
“You ready for lunch?” Nathan steps into my office.
“Depends. You paying or am I?”
His mouth curves into a smirk, but he doesn’t respond.
Shaking my head, I push away from my desk. “Fine. I’ll pay. But you’re letting me play with the toy in your happy meal this time.”
This buckles him and he laughs.
We take his Range Rover to a restaurant downtown shooting the shit about nothing in particular, which is something we specialize in and have since we were young. We do our very best not to talk about work outside of work, something he and I both appreciate.
As we pull in, I spot a familiar BMW. “Is that—”
“Brooklyn. Hope you don’t mind I invited her.”
I pop out, shutting the door as Nathan strides to his wife and kisses her on the forehead. “You’re invading a guys’ lunch and pushing me to third wheel position?” I tease, kissing her cheek.
“Awww. Is Cody jealous?”
“Very,” I crack with humor. “You’re stealing all my time with him. A guy needs friends, Spitfire.”
She titters.
After we’re seated, we order our drinks and food.
“I know we don’t discuss work outside of the office often,” Nathan starts, “but I wanted you to know that I denied most of the mockups for Laguna Beach. I didn’t feel they were up to par with the competition.”
“Oh shit. Lindsay will obliterate you in your sleep.”
He puffs a chuckle. “I sat down with her this morning and gave her a more pointed direction.”
There’s something in his tone… “And I’m going to hate the changes in the budget. Aren’t I?”
“It’s pretty steep.”
“Steeper than the ones I approved already?”
“About that…”
“You’re going to give me an aneurysm. You’re trying to kill me off.” I look around the table and back to him. “You’ve brought me here to butter me up. You bastard.” My tone is heavy with sarcasm.
“The competition in Laguna Beach is superabundant. I want to blow it out of the water. I’m coming to battle.” Nathan is being total business-like, a CEO billionaire at his finest.
Closing my eyes, I tap the center of my forehead with three of my fingers. “Which is why you need me to approve your exponential new budget?”
“Not like I can’t overrule you. But you’re the numbers man for a reason. After you’ve reviewed the new budget and design requests, I’d like your analysis outlook.”
“You realize if the negative outweighs the positive and is more of a liability than an asset or if there’s a hefty dip in revenue before lifting, I’m going to stand my ground against it. Right?”
“Precisely why I’m coming to you personally. The budget is the largest I’ve ever requested, but after you investigate the numbers from the businesses around, I feel like the risk will quickly become gain.”
Tired of the business side of this lunch, I exhale. “I need a fucking raise,” I say flippantly, and it causes him to laugh.
“I don’t think I’d last a minute in a meeting with you two,” Brooklyn states. “I would be crushed from the intensity.”
“This is far from intense. Just friendly conversation,” I state. “He didn’t even get to use the Bennett death stare.”
“I hate that thing,” Brooklyn says.
I laugh. “When he does it, just picture a dick on his forehead.”
She laughs as the waitress sets our sandwiches down in front of us. Thankfully, the conversation steers away from business and right into comfortable and easy-going chatter about…you guessed it, anything and nothing at all.
Being at the table with Brooklyn makes me miss Aimee. How she looked at me this morning with rapture while standing in my kitchen with a cup of coffee had my dick swelling in my slacks and something in my chest blossoming.
“Cody?” The voice, familiar with a hint of Spanish around the edges, pulls me from my thoughts and I glance up.
Jet black hair spills over her shoulders. She’s got pale green eyes so light they could be considered gray. Her smooth skin is the shade of sienna. And those damn full overly plump lips cast a flashback of them wrapped around my dick. I haven’t seen her in two years, and she looks the same—professionally polished.
I shake my head of the memories and jerk my gaze back to meet hers. “Yvette.”
“Sorry to interrupt your lunch. I was just leaving and thought that was you. I had to stop in and see how you are. It’s been a few years. Are you still with Bennett Towers?”
“Meet Nathan Bennett and his wife Brooklyn,” I introduce them.
Yvette, being an executive director, smiles politely and introduces herself before swinging her gaze back to mine.
“I’m in town for a few days. We should get together. Catch up for old times’ sake.”
Old times’ sake would consist of no clothing… That’s not fucking happening.
Before I can voice my thought, she asks, “You still have my number?”
“I won’t be needing it.” My response parts her lips in surprise. “I’m not interested.”
“Oh.” She shifts and plasters on her perfect smile.
“It was good to see you, Yvette.” I say.
She offers Brooklyn and Nathan a polite smile and saunters away.
I can feel their eyes on me.
“Was that the Yvette?” Nathan asks.
“Yep.” I take a swig of water.
“Someone gonna fill me in or am I left guessing?” Brooklyn asks.
Not leaving Nathan to explain the situation, I say, “Several years ago, she and I dated for about a month. She was offered a promotion within her company, took it, and left.”
“Left you heartbroken?” Brooklyn draws out curiously.
I bark a laugh. “No. We weren’t that serious. We had a lot of fun, but that’s all there was to it.”
“And you just turned down a night of fun?” Brooklyn’s tone is skeptical now.
“I did. Not interested.”
Brooklyn studies me, blinking a few times. “When did Cody stop liking flings?” Her eyes slide to Nathan’s.
“You realize he’s not my keeper?” I suggest before Nathan can respond.
“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Nathan chuckles.
“Is there something going on? First Aimee, now you?”
There’s no way she knows about Aimee and me, so keeping my promise to her, I pretend
I don’t know a thing, even though it fucking sucks. Placing my elbow on the table, I lean closer. “Aimee? You know something I don’t? She finally come to her senses and wants to give me a try? Come on, Spitfire. Talk your girl into a good time.”
She rolls her eyes. “She’s seeing someone.”
My brows hike high. “No way?”
She shakes her head. “I’m not discussing this with you. It gives you ammo.” She knows me too well.
I chuckle, resting back in my chair. “Talk to her. I’m available. We can—”
“Stop.” She holds up her hand. “You’d break her heart and you know it.”
Feigning hurt, I clutch my chest. “You wound me, Spitfire.”
She laughs and pushes to stand. “I’ve got to get back to work. Some of us aren’t lucky enough to take lunch as long as we want.”
While Nathan walks her out, I grab my phone.
Cody: You told Brooklyn you were seeing someone?
Aimee: How do you know?
Cody: Considering she was sitting across from me at lunch…
Aimee: She blabs too much.
Cody: I like knowing you talk about me. What does she know?
Aimee: Not a lot.
Cody: Dinner tonight?
Aimee: It’ll be a late night for me.
Cody: What’s late?
Aimee: 9ish.
Cody: Have a good rest of the day. Call me later.
Aimee: Don’t work too hard.
Whatever shift happened between us since last night, it feels good. Damn good.
TWENTY
Last night, Cody surprised me by being at my house when I got home with takeout Chinese. After not getting much sleep the night before—all thanks to him—and my long list of appointments, I was dragging, but he didn’t seem mind. Instead, he took care of everything, cleaned up what was left of dinner while I was in the shower, and when I passed out on him in the middle of a movie, I was woken up by him putting me in the bed.
This morning, I was roused awake by teeth, lips, tongue, and hands all over me. He ravished me before leaving so he could go home and get ready for his Saturday run with Nathan. I was left with an ache between my legs and a huge grin.
I spring up to Brooklyn’s door and before I can knock, she opens it.
“You’re early.”
Spreading my hands to the side, I offer a smile. “Surprise!”
She laughs, shutting the door behind us as we head toward the back patio where Shyla waits.
“Holy shit. She makes it on time and with four minutes to spare.” Cody snags my attention keeping up with our old banter. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter in his gym clothes with his arms, the same ones that were wrapped around me last night, crossed over his chest.
I roll my eyes as I curl my lip. “I figured you started to miss me.”
There’s a tic in his brow. “You’re either late or gone before I get back. Damn right I’ve missed your sassy mouth.”
“Why do you insist we meet at the same time they’re here?” Annoyed—at least I hope I’m pulling it off—I glance back to Brooklyn.
“Because it works out perfectly,” she chirps and heads toward the door. “They’re gone for an hour and a half. We have our weekly girls’ time. It’s cheaper, convenient, and when it’s over, we go back to our lives.”
“Right,” I groan following her. I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and Cody smirks with a wink and then pushes off the wall. Butterflies take off in flight in my stomach.
Shyla pushes a copper mug toward me. Moscow Mule for the win today!
Just as I’m taking a sip, the skies open and the rain slams the pavement outside of the covered deck sheltering us.
Nathan appears from the house with Cody in tow. “Guess our plans have changed,” he states. “We’ll be in the house while you have your girl time.”
Brooklyn looks to all three of us. Oh no. I know that look. She’s about to… “Join us.” The words are out before we can stop her.
“What? No. Then we can’t trash talk them,” I protest.
Cody drops into the chair beside me. “You realize this is your fault?”
Recoiling, I whip toward him. “Mine?”
He nods, grabbing my drink off the table and takes a swallow. “You showed up early. Confused Mother Nature.”
I roll my eyes back to Brooklyn. “I retract my statement. We can completely talk shit about them.” I snatch my drink out of Cody’s hands.
Shyla makes them both a drink and we settle around the table—Nathan beside B, and of course, Cody beside me. Any other day, this would be normal. The group of us around the table. But today, I’m a ball of nervous energy wondering if I have a flashing neon light announcing I’ve had sex with Cody…a lot. Or the fact we’re dating…sort of. I just have to play it cool for an hour. I got this.
“You sure you ladies don’t mind us here?” Nathan asks.
We all toss out our own version of “it’s fine” with Brooklyn’s being the bubbliest.
She rests back into the chair. “Shyla. Did you know Aimee was seeing someone?”
There goes playing cool. My eyes bulge. Thankfully Shyla fakes surprise and tilts her head. “Spill it.”
I can feel Cody’s eyes on me and it’s sending me into an internal meltdown. “I’m not discussing this with the guys here.”
Shyla watches me knowingly.
“Aw, come on. We’re all friends here. Don’t ruin the fun,” Cody spouts off, crossing his ankle over his knee with a smug smirk. “What’s he look like? Is he cute?”
“She said he’s hot,” Brooklyn says, and it sends my blood rushing to my ears. “And sweet, funny, and smart.”
I’m going to murder her. No. I’m too weak-stomached for that. I’ll have her murdered. I’m going to befriend a mobster. It’s the only logical way to handle this.
“Really?” Cody asks.
“Why won’t you spill it?” Shyla says with a hint of amusement. “We should know everything.”
She’ll be on the hit list too.
“Is he bad in bed?” Brooklyn pouts her bottom lip and gives me sad eyes.
Oh my god. I roll my eyes closed.
Cody chokes on his drink.
“Dammit, Aimee. Give us something!” Brooklyn throws her hands up. “You two tried talking me into snapping pictures of Nathan on our first date. You had Shyla drive you by Brady’s work. And now that it’s your turn, you won’t share?”
“Wait. You took a picture of me on our first date?” Nathan asks.
She shakes her head. “No. They tried to get me to.”
“What’s his name?” Shyla asks, a hint of a dare there.
“If you all must have a name, just call him…Finn.”
Cody groans, flopping his arms out. “Out of all the names you could pick, you chose Finn? It couldn’t have been something exciting or sexy, like Cody.”
My heart is battering inside of my chest so loudly, I swear everyone can hear it. I glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Damn right I would. You calling out my name.” He smirks. “Like a dream come true.”
Tilting my head, I hike a daring brow. “Especially if he’s bad in bed, right?”
“If his name is Cody, I’m positive it’s not bad.” He licks his lips and bites a smirk.
“Where’d you meet this Finn guy?” Brooklyn asks.
“Around. Can we please change the subject?” I’m beginning to feel caged, my muscles tensing as my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. Flee from the interrogation I’m not ready for or bitch them all out for putting me on the spot. Yes, I know. I’m a hypocrite. If this was them, I’d be asking a million questions too.
“You said you really liked this guy and you didn’t want to jinx it.” Brooklyn’s words turn me beet red and I’m debating on sinking under the table. “I think you need to invite him over for a dinner and see how he fits in with all of us.”
“If you don’t change the damn s
ubject, I’m never going to speak to you all again.” Just as the words exit my mouth, a large burst of lightning flashes and thunder booms, rattling the ground. I yelp, jumping.
Cody cackles. “God doesn’t like liars.”
If looks could kill, the glare I just snapped at Cody would have him obliterated into tiny fragments.
“Have you heard from Luke?” Brooklyn asks and then gasps! “It’s Luke. Isn’t it?”
“Definitely not Luke.” This comes from a confident Cody. “He wasn’t her type. She wouldn’t settle.”
“How does he know this and you two don’t?” I throw my thumb at him.
Thank god the conversation moves off me and just in the nick of time because I was about to lose my mind.
On this week’s show of “How He Is Annoying Me,” we focus on Brady and how his newfound love for a horror show on Netflix is outweighing his love for his wife who hates them. Shyla’s never enjoyed anything scary. They activate dark thoughts that keep her up at night thinking that either a serial killer will pop out from behind the curtains or ghosts are tickling her feet. Once in high school, we tried to watch a horror movie where a woman comes back from the dead to avenge her death. She wouldn’t come into the light so the actors and actresses moved through their lives with some sort of light—bedroom lights, large spot lights. And that damn woman would be just outside of the stream…waiting.
It took Shyla three weeks to sleep without the lights on, and she wouldn’t dare step outside at night. And now, as the rain pounds the pavement, the thunder rumbles, and the lightning streaks across the gray skies, you can see the aftereffects of Brady’s decision in her eyes.
Looking around the table, my heart squeezes. Our circle, all best friends… Cody and I need to talk and figure this out. I don’t want to mess anything up, but I’m not ready to walk away from him. Not yet. Not while everything feels so right.
* * *
My phone vibrates against the wood of my nightstand causing a hell of a racket. Peeling my eyes open, I grab it.
Shyla: You up?
Me: Nope. Sleep texting you.
Shyla: Open the door. We need to talk.