13. BODI
13
“ W hy haven’t I seen her before?” My dad gives me a stern expression, as if I’m caught with my hand in the cookie jar, and I chuckle as I exhale.
“I’ve only been seeing her a couple of weeks,” I tell him for the sixth time, squeezing his hand in mine. It’s not the full truth, but I can’t confuse him more with my whatever bullshit label I keep slapping onto it.
He’s smitten, asking the same questions over and over again, as the doctor checks his vitals, before his eyes get heavier after they help him in his bed.
And I can’t blame him, because so am I.
I didn’t expect my day to end with introducing Kayla to my father, but seeing the bright smile she has plastered on his cheeks within just a minute makes his repetitive questions more than worth it.
“I’m gonna go now, yeah, dad? I’ll be back tomorrow.”
He grumbles something as he briefly finds my eyes, before he shuts them. “Yep. See you tomorrow, son.”
I get up, then press a kiss to his warm forehead, running my fingertips over his soft, silver waves, before I trail to the door.
“Make sure you bring the girl!”
I twist around to my father, his eyes are still closed as he’s drifting off to sleep, and I lock eyes with Sheila with a stunned grin sliding up to my ear.
“Sure thing, dad.”
“Thank you for stepping by, Bodi,” Sheila approaches with a smirk, and I shake her hand. “We will see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good night, Sheila.” I saunter out of the room, searching for the brunette who is winning souls wherever she goes, while rubbing a hand over my cheek. When our gazes lock, a smile lights up my face and she rises to follow beside me as we walk toward the elevators.
“So, this is where you go every Wednesday morning?” she asks, pushing the button.
“Yeah.” I stare at my feet. “He has dementia.”
“I figured.” The elevator door opens, and we both get in.
I press my back against the left side of the small room while she takes the left wall across from me. That kind expression of hers fills my chest, making me desperate to wrap her body around mine. To feel her arms around my waist as I breathe in the smell of her fruity shampoo, mixed with the honey scent of her skin. Even simply looking at her lightens my mood, even if it’s just a little.
“What stage?”
“You’re familiar with it.” My brows quirk up in surprise.
“My grandmother had dementia,” she explains with a shrug. “In the end, she thought I was her daughter. I just played along.”
I rub the back of my neck, looking up at the ceiling before my eyes move down to the floor. With no siblings that might understand what I’m feeling, I’ve been struggling with my father’s condition. I talk to Jensen, but he’s in a different state, and I don’t think he can fully understand when he has no clue what any of it means, and it’s not his family. It’s hard when you know that one day your father will slowly start to forget about your existence like you were never born. Just the realization of that makes my stomach turn in agony. The days he doesn’t remember me right away are already becoming more frequent.
“His state is deteriorating. He has a hard time getting dressed. He doesn’t remember much. The last few weeks he’s been forgetting me.” It hurts saying it out loud, but when I bring my eyes back to her and she’s looking at me with understanding, it also feels liberating. Like she gets it, or at least can relate.
Or maybe it just helps to talk to someone about it.
“I’m sorry.”
I just keep staring at her, wondering if I was wrong about her.
Jensen is my best friend, but I haven’t really told him how bad my dad’s condition is lately, yet here is this girl who dropped out of college and makes it a sport to torture me with her silly taunts on a daily basis, now making me wonder if maybe I can truly be her friend. If she can be mine.
If I can trust her with my darkest secrets and my deepest fears.
“It’s okay.” I crack my neck as the doors open and a lopsided grin washes over my face. “You still want burgers?”
“Always.”
“Let’s go, then,” I say, pointing my arm into the hallway.
We make our way to the first drive-thru I can find and we both order burgers that we eat while I drive us home. I still think they taste like shit, but it’s overshadowed by the gratitude I feel of not being alone, and having her sit beside me.
Like she belongs in that seat next to me.
When I park the car underneath my building, the sound of my phone ringing reverberates through the car, and I give Kayla a quick glance. She smiles when she catches the name on the screen.
These moments seem to happen more often. Those side glances, secret smiles, catching gazes. And the scary part is, every single time they stir my organs alive, making my heart swell in a way I can’t control.
I’m not sure I even want to try anymore.
“Why don’t you head up. I’ll see you in a minute.”
She nods, her smile never vanishing as she exits the car and struts to the elevator. My eyes stay focused on the curves of her body until she disappears into the building, and I answer the phone.
“What’s up, hockey boy ?” I mock Jensen with the nickname Rae gave him when we drove across the country together.
“Hey, shitface, good news.”
“You’re becoming a dad?”
“What? No,” he blurts as if I’m asking him to eat dirt. “I’m not ready for diapers.”
“You kissed and made up with your mother?” That’s never gonna happen.
“Now you just make me want to kill myself.”
I let out a laugh, shaking my head as I turn off the engine. “What is it, then?”
“Finn’s got a friend in Atlanta. Said he has a spare room. He’s willing to take Kayla off your hands.”
My brows spring together in a painful frown while the muscles in my neck seem to tense like steel.
“What friend?” I grit out, more aggravated than I planned.
“Some guy he went to college with.” There is a nonchalance in his voice that ticks me off and a possessive feeling settles inside. It falls like an anchor to the bottom of the ocean, and although I want to bring it back up, it seems too heavy to lift. I stay quiet, trying to keep an indifferent stance as I take a deep breath.
“Is he single?”
“I don’t know?” he replies with clear confusion in his tone.
“I’m not going to ship her off to some guy who wants to get in her pants.”
A chuckle comes through the line, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
Shit, I just showed him all my cards.
“Like you?” he says, amused.
“Not what I meant.”
“What exactly did you mean, then, Bodi?” I imagine my best friend with his arms crossed and a smug grin sitting on his face.
Hell, I don’t even know.
When she arrived on my doorstep, all I knew was that I needed to get rid of her. She is a distraction I’m not allowed to have, and as dick-ish as it is, I didn’t think she was capable of doing a job that would meet my expectations.
I was wrong. So fucking wrong. She has been killing it. And even though the desire to feel her lips against mine hasn’t left, I forgot I even asked Rae to find somewhere else for her to stay.
I should be happy he found something, giving me a better chance to keep this professional with her. But the thought of her living with some other guy ties knots in my stomach. It’s unbearable.
“That we can’t let her stay with some guy she doesn’t know. At least I’m not a stranger.” It’s a complete bluff and fucking bullshit, but it’s the first thing that pops into my head.
“I’m pretty sure Finn wouldn’t give me his friend’s address if he didn’t think he was a good guy,” Jensen argues.
“Good guy or not, she’s nineteen, living in a city she doesn’t know. Sending her off to some guy feels like throwing her for the wolves.”
“Right, and this has nothing to do with you wanting to be the Big Bad Wolf instead?” He jokes, but it still annoys the living shit out of me.
Because I don’t want it to be a joke. I want her. And I can’t have her. But I’ll be damned if someone else gets her.
“Shut up. She’s staying with me.”
“But you said—”
“Forget what I said,” I cut him off.
He stays quiet before I hear his taunting voice again. “Anything you want to tell me, McKay?”
“No,” I bark. “I gotta go.”
“Home?” he jeers. “To Kayla?”
“Shut up, Jay. Say hi to your wife for me.”
“She’s not my wife. Yet,” he adds quickly, then continues. “Nice job changing the subject, asshole.”
“I know, it’s a talent. Talk to you later.” I hang up, rubbing my palm over my face, letting out a grunt, because I have not thought this through.
If she’s not leaving, how am I ever going to keep my distance?