12. KAYLA
12
W orking at KPI is becoming just as fun as tormenting Bodi in this game we’re playing.
Over the last week, I’ve created folders and archives for everything I need, made a production script for the next charity event, started negotiating vendors for the other events, and I’m really growing into the job.
It might not be the dream job I wanted, like one of the editing positions, but I created a routine that makes me feel good and useful. After our lunch date—because he can call it whatever he wants, but it was a damn lunch date—we both upped our game.
Or maybe I did.
I’m fully dedicated to make him crack.
I grab every chance to flirt with him, stroking his arm or shooting him a wink. He went into full friend mode whenever he’s not busy being my boss. He’s adamant to stay friends, replying to every single one of my actions with an affable gesture.
He’s consistent, I’ll give him that. But he doesn’t realize it’s making it even more of a challenge I want to rise to.
“I’m going now, honey. Do you need a ride?” Agnes asks, standing in front of her desk.
My eyes move to the clock that says it’s 5:30 PM.
“No, thanks. I’m pretty sure he’ll be done soon.”
“Don’t wait too long, honey. Before you know it, they expect you to wait forever.”
Ha, I’ve already been waiting too long as it is.
“Good night, Agnes,” I sing-song with my eyes still locked on my screen, and a smile lifts the corner of my mouth.
I’d expected Agnes to at least make a few comments since she’s a regular spectator of our displays of verbal affection, but so far, she’s just giving me glances of amusement while keeping her mouth shut.
I put my focus back to my inbox, sorting and replying to the emails that have been sliding in this afternoon. Time creeps by until I notice a shadow moving beside me.
When I look up, Bodi is standing next to my desk, and when I bring my attention to the clock, it now says 6:30.
His sunglasses sit in his hair, his keys in his hand, and he’s looking sexy as ever. He’s wearing a black button-down with his sleeves rolled up, creating a longing to touch his skin in my now aching fingers.
“Are you ready to go?” I love the familiarity in his voice, like it’s the most normal thing that we’re going home together, and I let my eyes take him in from top to bottom.
“Do you ever wear a jacket?”
“Why do I need a jacket when I have a car?”
“Well, I don’t know? Because it’s only thirty degrees outside?”
“Aah, are you cold?” he coos before he glances around the now empty office, then lowers his voice. “Do you want me to keep you warm?”
One brow lifts, daring him with my tongue pressed against my teeth. “If I say yes, will you take me back to your office and warm me up?”
I see his internal struggle, but he makes a quick recovery.
“No, I was more thinking about putting on the heater in the car. I also have heated seats to keep your ass warm.”
“I know something else that will keep my ass warm.”
His lips form a thin line, but I can see the smile that’s dying to creep through.
“One of these days, Bodi. One of these days, I’m going to make you crack.” I get up, then grab my purse before I push him forward toward the elevator.
“Not gonna happen, babe. You wanna get some burgers on the way home?”
Home . I’m not sure what my definition of home is, but I don’t mind thinking of Bodi when the word hits.
A smug guffaw falls from my lips as I press the button to go down. “You’ve called me ‘ babe ’ every single chance you get when no one is around, and buy me all the food you think is crap–”
“It is crap,” he interrupts.
“ Yet, you still ask what I wanna eat every day. You’re going to crack, baby .” I give him a matter of fact look as I watch his expression change by me calling him baby.
It rolled off my tongue with familiarity, meant as a tease, even though it’s the first time I’ve called him that. Hunger travels in his green eyes, and I hold his attention until the cart reaches our floor and the doors slide open.
He rubs his face with a small grunt. “Get in, Kayla.”
With a content sigh, I do as told and stand beside him.
“If you look at me like that every time I call you baby, I should do it more often,” I mumble with a giggle. I love how I’m starting to figure out all his tells. All the little buttons I can push until I can detonate the major one.
“Shut up.”
The rest of the ride down is silent, though my lips are firmly pressed together to prevent me from letting out the laugh that’s dying to burst out.
If he was anyone else, I’d probably move on by now. I bolted out of Stanford being completely convinced I didn’t want any form of male attention for the foreseeable future. But Bodi’s different.
He makes my bold side crawl out, drawn to his bright light. He makes me comfortable just being beside me, like I’ve known him my entire life, and as much as I made it clear I want more than just to be his friend , I can’t deny I trust him like he is exactly that. My friend.
But it’s the craving look in his emerald green eyes that keeps me going for more every time. I know he wants me just as much as I want him. I just gotta make him cross the line once . Just once to remind him how good we can be together and that he needs to let go of that bullshit about me being too young.
I’m not asking him to marry me. I’m not even asking for a relationship. I just got out of one, and it didn’t end well. I can even settle for friends with benefits.
But I do want him in every carnal way, and I’m not going to give up because I was born in the wrong year.
“Can I drive?” I question when we walk into the garage and toward his red Charger.
Within a split second, he throws me a look like I just asked him to eat bugs or something else ridiculous.
“No.” His tone holds no room for discussion, and I scrunch up my nose, a little burned.
“Why not?” I screech.
I’m a fucking good driver, if I say so myself. Have been riding anything on two or four wheels since I was fourteen.
I stand in front of the hood while he lays his arms on top of the car, his hip leaning against it with a self-righteous grin stretching his cheeks. “Babe, do you know what this car cost?”
Not the first time a man underestimates me when it comes to cars.
Don’t even get me started on the time I had to refill the coolant in Trent’s flashy Mercedes because he couldn’t even find the reservoir.
I pop my hip, crossing my arms in front of my body with a defiant glare. “It’s a Dodge Charger. From what I can see, it’s a 2015/2016 model. You got double the pipes, which tells me it’s at least a V6, but when I listen to the engine, I’d expect it to be a V8, so I think about forty grand?” I wait for his response, enjoying the amazed look washing his face.
“Am I close?” I ask, fluttering my lashes when he stays quiet.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“It’s the only thing my Pops and I can agree on.” My feet carry me to the passenger side and I get in, waiting for him to do the same.
When he finally does, he starts the roaring engine and I glance at him with my head resting against the headrest.
I’m a little disappointed he won’t let me drive. As much as I tease him every single day, I feel like we’re also developing a friendship, and I thought that we’ve established some trust between us.
“It’s not you. I don’t trust anyone with this car,” he explains, as if he can hear my thoughts.
“Not even Rae?”
“No.”
“Jensen?”
“Especially not Jensen.” A smile forms in the corner of my mouth, pleased with that answer.
“How come?” My voice is calm and free from judgment, a sincere curiosity etching through.
“It’s my first car.”
A brow arches, letting his words settle in my mind as I wonder if he means that literally.
I point at my seat. “This is your first car? Ever ?”
He nods, opening his mouth to tell me the backstory, I think, when his phone starts to ring over the Bluetooth. The screen on the dashboard says Peartree Park.
“Shit,” he mutters before answering the call. “Hello?”
“Hi Bodi, it’s Sheila.” A woman’s voice echoes through the car, a sting of jealousy knitting my brows together, wondering who Sheila is.
“Good evening, Sheila.”
“I’m sorry, but your father has been really aggressive in the last few hours. We had to sedate him, but we can’t get him out of this state. He’s demanding to see you. We would like you to come over to make sure he doesn’t keep up all the other residents for the rest of the night.”
“I’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, his jaw clenched. “I’m sorry. I’ll bring you home and you can order some food.” The words leave his lips as if it’s hard for him to voice and I’m not sure if it’s because he didn’t want me to know or because his requested presence falls heavy on his heart.
He probably doesn’t want me there. This is a private matter. He probably wants to deal with this alone, and not have me hovering around him.
But when I catch his strained expression, I get the sense that dealing with this by himself is the last thing he wants to do, and I push my self doubt aside.
“You don’t have to,” I offer. “It sounded urgent. I don’t mind coming with you.”
He twists his head to mine with a surprised expression. “You sure?”
I shoot him an understanding smile. “Of course.”
He pushes out a breath that makes me want to believe it’s from relief, and he gives me a slight nod before we continue the rest of the ride in silence.
Whatever is going on with his dad, it sounded serious. It also sounded like something he’s been dealing with for a while, and since all his friends live out of state, I’m guessing he’s carrying that burden by himself.
I don’t want him to feel alone, especially not when I’m right here, and he’s doing exactly that— making me feel less alone.
When we get to what looks like a retirement home, I follow behind him, feeling unsure. It’s already dark out and the building is poorly lit, indicating most of its residents have already called it a night. We enter, then walk to the back of the building toward the elevators and he gives me a tight smile while pressing the button to go up.
I have no clue what to expect. Is his father ill? Is he bed bound?
“I don’t know how he’ll be. Maybe you should wait down here.”
I don’t want to impose myself, so I do my best to give him a kind expression without any expectations. “Are you saying that for me or for you?”
I want to respect his wishes, understanding he might not feel comfortable with me around when he doesn’t exactly know his dad’s condition. Or, I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that I have never met his dad.
“For you.” He doesn’t have to think of his answer and butterflies swirl in my stomach. My eyes scan the now empty common area, feeling like someone could be lurking in the dark. I’ve watched plenty of horror movies. It never ends well for the person being alone in some big empty space.
“Can I come up?” I’d rather be close to Bodi before some walking dead zombies come out of the hallways to eat me.
As much as he keeps turning down my advances, I do expect him to protect me during an apocalypse.
The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided grin. “Are you scared?”
“No,” I scowl. “Maybe.”
The elevator doors open, and we get in.
“And here I thought nothing could scare Kayla Lockheart.”
I love his teasing tone, and I push him to the side with a playful glare.
“I might not be a pussy like you, but I’m not fearless either, baby.”
Chuckling, his fingers enclasp my wrist and he rapidly pulls me against his chest.
Oh, shit. The air is knocked from my lungs, my eyes wide. The fresh smell of his cologne quickly attacks my senses, and I look up while I breathe out through my nose. His breath fans my face, and his nostrils flare, his lips dangerously close to mine.
Normally, I’ll have a teasing comment sitting on my tongue, but this time, I got nothing. The desire that’s burning inside of me prevents me from voicing anything. I just want him to kiss me. I want him to kiss me so bad.
His nose brushes against mine, and I palm his chest, his heartbeat pounding into my fingers while the other grips his shirt. I can almost taste him when his upper lip touches mine, and I wait with a racing pulse. The thick air makes it hard to breathe, but really, I don’t need oxygen to stay alive right now.
I just need him.
The ding of the elevator breaks the magic, and he presses his forehead against mine with a deep sigh, then straightens his neck and plants a lingering kiss on my forehead. The heat of his lips against my skin is sizzling, and I close my eyes to completely savor it.
“Let’s go,” he says when he finally lets go and gets off the elevator.
Ugh.
His sudden withdrawal of energy, removing himself from mine, feels like a cold wind outside the blistering desert.
Frustrated, I throw my hands and feet in a fit behind his back like I’m losing my mind, accompanied by a silent scream.
“So close, Kayla. So close,” I whisper, aggravated, while I follow his trail.
“You know I can hear you, right?” His grin is audible, yet he doesn’t turn around.
“I don’t care.”
“Come on, little minx.”
“Minx. I can live with that.” Just wait for the moment I’ll actually be able to put my claws in him. It’s coming, I know it.
We stroll through the hallway to the right side of the building until we reach an open door. Without hesitation, he struts in while I wait in the doorway.
“Mr. McKay. Thank you for coming.” The doctor offers his hand and Bodi takes it.
“Evening, Dr. Grant. I hope my father didn’t make you work late?”
“I’m on the night shift. I just started.” He smiles before his features turn serious. “We had to sedate your father. He was being aggressive. We hope you can get him to settle down a little before we put him to bed.”
The muscles in Bodi’s back tense, then he nods to the doctor, moving farther into the room. His father sits in a bordeaux red armchair, a nurse holding his hand in comfort. The look in his hazel eyes is vacant, lost. Completely worn out.
Showing his roots, he’s wearing an orange Wallabies rugby shirt, and black sweatpants, his skin looking a little tan against his gray thick hair. The wrinkles on his face make him look old, but I can imagine him being a strong, handsome man like Bodi when he was younger.
“Hey, Dad.” Bodi squats down, resting a hand on his knee.
An even deeper frown forms on the old man’s face.
“Who are you? I want my son,” he sneers, ferociously.
Oh, my god, he has dementia.
“I’m right here.” Bodi tilts his head. The calmness in his voice captures my attention with awe, my respect for him growing by the second. It must be hard to accept that your father doesn’t recognize you, but he handles it with love and patience as if nothing is wrong.
The recognition seems to hit, and his dad’s eyes transform from angry to grateful, from a dark expression to a smile that lights up the room. Relief echoes through the entire room, the stern features on the nurses releasing their tension.
“You’re here.”
“I’m here.” Bodi rubs his palm over his father’s leg.
I lean against the doorpost, my arms hugging my waist with my head resting on the wood, my heart being cradled like a baby.
The man is an enigma.
Bodi can shine on the cover of Men’s Health with his sexy tousled hair and mesmerizing green eyes. But he’s not just a hot piece of man. His soul is just as beautiful, shown when he looks at his dad with a comforting smile or when he compliments Agnes on her outfit of the day. He’s smart and intelligent, looking like a hot nerd when he’s reading a book, but a total macho man when he’s watching a hockey game.
He’s the full package.
And I think he officially took a piece of my heart, I’ll never get back.
“How are you feeling?” Bodi questions, yet he’s ignored when his dad’s gaze travels over Bodi’s shoulder, his kind intense-green eyes now locking with mine.
“Who’s that?” I offer him a tight smile for his question while Bodi follows his father’s gaze.
“That’s Kayla.”
I give him a short wave. “Hi.”
“She’s pretty.” He nods in approval, a playful glint now noticeable, reminding me of his son. “You did good, Son.”
Bodi shakes his head. “We’re not to—” He trails off, but stops himself, not wanting to voice whatever is on his mind, before his gaze meets mine with a troubled look.
“I’ll just wait outside.” I give him an encouraging smile, silently telling him it’s fine, and saving him from the awkwardness of answering that question with the truth.
Because the truth is… minutes ago, he had me pinned against his chest, and as much as he wants to deny it, friends don’t end up in that position.