by Ember Leigh
Everything’s good though. Can’t sleep, but that’s nothing new. I called Sophie and she told me you’re fine. Apparently you call her but I get it, I lost that privilege. I learned my lesson: wait when Genny says wait.
I’m waiting.
I’ll wait as long as I need to.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Part 363798
There are some things that have been changing since you left. I won’t spoil the surprise here, I just know you’re gonna flip. I’ve got you to thank for some of these changes. Here’s one that I can tell you—looks like I’m gonna take that trainer certification after all.
Yeah, your boy Cobra’s gonna get his fucking diploma.
What’s next? Not a college degree, if that’s what you’re thinking. hahahahaha
I dunno, maybe someday.
LA is home for you, right?
Cobra
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Part 7
I figured out how to look at my sent e-mails so I updated the part number. Merry Christmas!! That’s not your gift, the part number thing. I got your gift here. I can’t wait to give it to you. I got some other gifts waiting for you too. Yes, one of them is my dick. And no, I will not send you a picture no matter how nice you ask. You just need to come back and see for yourself.
Seriously hope Fernando is not a thing because then this is gonna be a real creeper e-mail.
Please tell me Fernando is not a thing.
Gen. Please.
TO: [email protected]
FROM: [email protected]
SUBJECT: Forgive me? Part New Year
I don’t know if these e-mails are even reaching you. I drive myself crazy thinking that maybe I lost you the day I left you at your parents’ house. I can’t excuse what I did. I can just explain. I’d like to do that in person, but here’s a summary: I’m fucking depressed. I always have been, and usually it’s bad, but sometimes it gets real bad.
My life has been a real sad story. One I’ve bought into for a long damn time. Until you came along.
Depression is only part of the story though. I’ve got some other shit baked into this stupid pot pie of mine. Like…I dunno. Bad habits, I guess. I’m really good at running away when shit gets hard, or if there’s even the slightest chance things might not work out. Part of me still can’t believe I’ve made it this long at Holt’s.
But that’s where you come in. You fucking saved me. Six months ago, I would have laughed in your face if you’d have told me this little innocent red-head from the valley was gonna save my fucking ass. I’d have told you that I was the last person needing saved. But fuck, Genny. I needed it more than anyone. You gave me a push. A few times, actually.
Maybe I’ve written too much. It feels weird to admit this shit. I just know that you’re a fucking angel, and life can actually be better than it has been. Even if you never come back into my life, I just need you to know that you are the most important person I’ve ever met. Don’t worry, I’ll still be a shithead that gets depressed sometimes. But one that occasionally shits roses, too.
Or daisies, in your case.
Red, you’ve changed me. For the better. Forever.
And guess what else? I love you. I have for a long time.
Chapter 42
Gen pressed the Video icon on her tablet, grinning as Sophie’s face lit up the screen. “Can you see me?”
Sophie’s jet-black hair hung even longer than she remembered. Seeing her best friend and roomie was a relief. Three months abroad might as well have been three years.
“Um…no. I see something flesh colored. Is that your thumb? Are you covering the camera hole?”
Gen sighed. She might never get the hang of this thing. She turned the tablet around, craning her neck to find the camera. “Can you see me now?”
“You don’t have to turn the tablet around. Hit the button where it flips the camera for you.”
Gen jabbed the screen a couple times, tongue poked out between lips.
“There we go. Oh, well, that’s a nice shot of your nose.”
Gen giggled, adjusting the tablet. “Better now?”
“Yeah, I can see you! Look at you! Oh my God, you chopped all your hair off!”
It was true. One drunk night in Barcelona had led to a very impassioned discussion with a very expressive hair stylist who insisted that what Gen needed was to shed her spiritual baggage. Now she had a bob—and loved it.
“I think your hair is longer than mine!” Gen said, giggling. An announcement echoed through the airport. “Hang on, Soph—” Something about United Airlines flight one-one-something. “Sorry. Gosh, they’re so loud.”
“Where are you?” Sophie said. “And what are you calling me from?”
“Well, I have a tablet now.”
“Look at you. Miss Twenty-First Century.”
“Yeah. I saved a man’s wallet from being stolen in London a few nights ago, at this café we were visiting, and he was so grateful he gifted me this extra tablet he had. I couldn’t believe it. I barely know how to use it.”
“I’m seeing that. But you’re coming along just fine. Now, where are you?”
Gen paused as another announcement cycled through. “I’m in Houston!”
“Houston!” Sophie gasped. “So that means you’re almost home?”
Gen and Sophie hadn’t video chatted a single time during her three-month excursion abroad. Occasionally, Gen had made a long-distance call from a phone booth here and there. About halfway through the trip, a nice Brazilian woman offered to help her start a Skype account so that she could video call back home, but the effort seemed too high for so little time remaining.
So Gen kept herself off the grid.
Exactly as she’d wanted it.
“I will be home in approximately five hours,” Gen said, checking her watch. “I can’t wait until you can hear all my rudimentary Spanish!”
Sophie sighed dreamily. “I can’t wait to hear all the stories.”
There was plenty to catch up on—from both sides of the world. It wasn’t until week three of her trip, when Gen called Sophie for the second time, that Sophie finally told Gen to check her e-mail. Cobra had come calling, the day after she’d left.
Twenty e-mails. That’s how many he’d sent during her twelve-week trip. She managed to get on the Internet occasionally, mostly at night at the hostels, but when she did, she devoured Cobra’s messages as if they were the most delicious gofres in all of Spain.
Because in a way, his words were even sweeter than the exotic treats of foreign lands. They were so sweet, she’d printed them at three different points during the trip. Spent more than fifteen euro total on the printouts. Carried them with her, folded up and worn at the edges, like an early pocket Bible she’d worn to death.
Even so, she hadn’t responded. Not once. Part of it was time—with so much to do on the road, if she wrote an e-mail back, she’d be writing for hours. The other part was sanctity. Of the trip…of her peace of mind. She didn’t want to interrupt her itinerary with something that would be best resolved back in LA.
When she and Sophie hung up, she pulled open her e-mail client on the tablet. She swiped and scrolled mostly successfully, accidentally closing the app only twice this time. She pulled open Cobra’s last e-mail, which had been sent four days ago. It simply said, “I went to the mountain and screamed fuck by myself, but it wasn’t the same. Thinking of you.”
She hit Reply. The blank e-mail stared back at her. Gnawing on the inside of her lip, she glanced around the sparse waiting area in front of her gate. The flight wouldn’t leave for another hour. Time enough to figure out what she wanted to say.
There were so many unknowns. She’d depleted most of the insurance payout she’d gotten from the crash, which meant finding a job very quickly would be of ultra-importance. Travis might be willing to hire h
er on, but that conversation still needed to happen. Amara might be able to help her, but did she even want to do that? These were the life questions she’d been postponing while she wandered Europe in a haze of healing and discovery and wonder.
Starting in Greece had wowed her. Drifting toward Spain cracked her open. And finishing in England brought the pieces back together to form something even more meaningful. A newer, wiser Gen, eager to go home. To Los Angeles. Where her family was waiting for her. Sophie. Cobra. Travis. Amara.
Because family wasn’t just who you’d been born alongside or who had brought you into this world. Holt Body Fitness had become family to this curious and wide-eyed orphan.
She blew out a long breath and started typing. Short and simple. “Where can I find you?”
The tablet dinged with a response as she shuffled in line toward the gate.
“Literally anywhere you want. Say it and I’m there. Or come find me after five at 3535 Larsen. Any word about Fernando? Need to know if he’s going to have an issue with the things I’m planning on doing when I see you.”
She rolled her lips inward, stifling the laughter. She tucked the tablet under her armpit while she held out her boarding pass. Air travel, train travel, hailing cabs—it was all a breeze to her now. Even so, each time she went through the motions of scanning tickets or boarding something, excitement thrilled through her.
She was living the life she’d dreamed was impossible.
She’d fucking made it. And she still had so much more to explore.
She landed in LA around three p.m., made it to the apartment by four-thirty, danced and squealed with Sophie, then took a long, hot shower.
By six, she couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to go find Cobra. Travel exhaustion be damned.
The address he’d given was new to her, which made her hopeful that he’d moved the hell out of his old place. Part of her wasn’t convinced he’d done it. Maybe he and his horrible friends had simply all relocated together.
On Larsen she found a cute, palm-lined boulevard flanked by boxy apartment buildings, spacious parks, and well-trimmed hedges. She found the number he’d given her, parked her car, and walked on wooden legs toward the front door. Her heart hammered in her chest. She raised her fist.
Knock, knock, knock.
She’d been imagining how their reunion might go since she’d landed in Athens three months ago. Picturing the body-crushing hugs, all but able to feel Cobra’s deep, thorough kisses as his tongue found hers. The warm ripple of love, curling through her whenever she saw him in her mind’s eye.
But she also worried that it might be awkward. Maybe that spark that had spread like electric shock through them had simmered and dwindled to an unimpressive dullness. She could just as easily imagine a stilted conversation over coffee, prodding half-heartedly into what they’d done and seen during their time apart.
It had been over three months since she’d laid eyes on him. What if she forgot what he looked like?
Knock, knock, knock. Her stomach gave a painful wrench, palms going damp. She listened closely, then checked her watch.
It was well after five. So where was Cobra?
She knocked one last time and pressed her ear to the door. Trying to conjure footsteps, or a “Hang on I’m coming!”
Nothing.
Gen stepped back from the door, double checking the number, then ran out to her car to look at the building as a whole. In her haste to get here, she’d forgotten her phone, and her tablet was a slick paperweight without an Internet connection. The most she could do was go home and send another e-mail asking for more specific instructions. And then wait, agonizing over her impatience.
In all her vivid fantasies about coming back to Los Angeles, this scenario had never occurred to her.
Gen groaned, stomping her foot. She looked up and down the street. The area was quaint, at least. Safe. That park over there looked nice. She adjusted the small cross-body bag she wore now, a little leather handicraft she’d picked up in Madrid. Sitting by some trees sounded like a much needed time-out.
She crossed the street once the traffic broke, hurrying toward the red brick path that wound through the green space. Palms shot up at uneven intervals, like a whimsical yellow brick road, California style. She scuffed down the path, hands shoved into the pockets of her high-waisted gypsy pants.
She had a lot to process now. That much was for sure. Not just about her future, but about her past. Where she’d come from. How the hell she’d made it here.
She’d thought a lot on her trip about the name she’d given herself. Genevieve. It was still her most favorite name, but now, the nickname Gen held another meaning. Short for Genesis. Her favorite book of the Bible as a little girl…and the most appropriate homage to this new life she created for herself.
Little yips broke through her thoughts, and she couldn’t find the source before she felt it. An impossibly cute puppy barked at her feet, paws up on her shins, entire butt waggling with excitement.
Tears immediately came to her eyes, but she didn’t know why. “Oh, my goodness! Look at you!”
She scooped the puppy up, holding it out so she could get a good look. Fur the color of caramel accented snow-white circles around the puppy’s eyes, which were so deep and soulful she couldn’t fight the “Awww!”
“You are the most precious thing I’ve ever seen! Where is your owner? Do you want to come live with me? Little perfect, precious puppy!”
The puppy didn’t have a leash, which was odd. Was this a runaway? She would absolutely kidnap this dog. In fact, maybe this would be the best hey-I’m-home gift to show up at Cobra’s house with. She held the dog in her arms, scanning the park for a possible owner. She’d give it a few minutes. Maybe one minute. Then the dog was hers.
Farther down the path, near a thicket of hibiscus, a man stepped into view. Longish black hair swept over his forehead, and his trim upper body was perfectly displayed by a tight-fitting T-shirt that said HOLT.
The T-shirt made her squint.
And then she realized.
She was looking at Cobra.
“Red!” His gruff shout shot through her, sending electricity to every inch of her body. She gasped, and then the distance closed between them; she didn’t know if Cobra had bolted toward her or if her legs had carried her without her knowledge.
But then he was around her, his sturdy, warm frame pressing against her in all the places that had been silently begging for him. And then she was in the air, one arm hooked around his neck and the other cradling the puppy. He spun her in a slow circle, his face buried in her neck while her heart raced fast enough to span the world in a moment’s time.
“Holy shit,” he said, that rough silk of his voice reverberating through her like harmony. “You didn’t tell me you cut all your hair off.”
And like that, she knew. Nothing would be strange or stilted or awkward. The energy pulsed between them as it always had. As if no time had passed at all. She giggled. “You didn’t tell me you grew yours out!”
“Genny.” He set her down gently, then cupped her face in his rough hands. The obsidian glint of his eyes was sharper than she’d remembered. More alive. Warmer. Healthier, somehow. Something that no photo would have done justice. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
Emotion tightened her throat and she drew a fortifying breath, placing her hand over his. “I’ve been waiting for this moment since I left.”
He searched her face, as if he was memorizing the shape of her lips, the curve of her eyelashes. “Part of me believed I’d never see you again.”
“I always planned on coming back,” she said softly.
“Why didn’t you ever write back?”
“I don’t…”
“It’s fine,” he hurried to add, his thumb grazing her jawline. “I was going to send you an e-mail a week until the day I died, regardless.”
“Will you still?”
The heartbreaker grin flashed across his face, the one
with dimple and all. “Of course.”
She struggled to memorize all the facets of his face, after so long apart. The tiny scar on his upper lip, the black stubble on his jaw, the shadows that still flitted under his eyes but were lesser now. Like maybe he’d been able to shine some light into the darkness.
Countless nights abroad, she’d wondered what it might feel like to reunite. And here, in this moment, she knew: it was more miraculous than memories, or even fantasies, could suggest. The heat and heart thrumming beneath her skin was equal parts helium in her blood and the very real, grounding force of Cobra. He anchored her at the same time he sent her spinning into the atmosphere.
And she needed that in her life. She knew that now. The highs and lows were infinitely better than a featureless, boring hum. But even that wasn’t all bad. What she’d left behind in central California was less of a hum and more like a dirge.
Stepping away from family had been step one. Going abroad had been step two. And she knew exactly what the next step had to be.
“So, like,” she said, gaze fastening on his plump lips, her core tightening. “Are you gonna kiss me or not?”
Cobra surged forward, the velvet heat of his lips finding hers, a kiss both tender and hungry emerging. She tilted her head back and let the kisses consume her. Shockwaves of pleasure alongside relief filled her, made her damn near topple over. Cobra steadied her, smoothing a hand over the small of her back, bringing her body flush with his.
When they broke apart, Gen had tears in her eyes. Because this was better than she’d remembered. Because he filled her in a way that felt absolutely perfect, despite the speed bumps and the snafus.
“Don’t cry, Genny,” Cobra said, thumbing away a tear that had spilled. But his hands trembled. Barely there, yet she caught it.
She sniffed hard, remembering suddenly the dog in her arms. “Cobra, I have a puppy in my arms, and I don’t know whose it is. We have to find the owner.”