Chapter 30Cody
30
Cody
From September to February, I had visited vibrant ports on the coast of Mexico, the gorgeous beaches and islands of the Bahamas, and a few distinct levels of hell.
Hell in the form of having to continue sharing a small cabin with your boyfriend as your relationship withered.
In the form of being stuck at sea without reception when your best friend was going through something traumatic, and you couldn’t check in.
Then there had been the existential hell of knowing that when you did finally get off the ship, nothing would be as you left it.
When I climbed the wretched stairs—whose days were numbered—to 7th Street Coffee and opened the heavy door, I unwittingly stepped into another one of Dante’s fiery levels.
One that, because of my previous disinterest in dating, had been left unexplored. Until now.
I hadn’t even looked twice at the mop of curls at the counter when I first joined Bree in line, as caught up in the texts I had going with Liem as I was, but at her muttered, “ Ah shit,” I sent my last update to Liem with my ETA for Gulf Shores and frowned at her as I pocketed my phone.
“What?”
“The band is here,” she whispered, her eyes wide as she angled her head toward the front of the line.
My gaze shot to the register, and I descended into Lucifer’s familiar embrace.
The young employee I’d had a panic attack in front of was taking my ex-boyfriend’s drink order.
Austin was, per usual, backed up by his two bandmates. If those two disliked me before—and I was almost certain they did—there was no way their opinion of me had improved since I’d fled the cruise ship. Not that I actually gave a fuck about their opinions.
But that still didn’t make this less horrifying.
I glanced at Cher, weighing the chances that she’d agree to suffocate me with her hair bandana, right as she looped her arm with mine and gave me an encouraging squeeze, like the supportive queen she was.
Dismal odds, then.
“How’s my hair?” I bent down and whispered in her ear.
She gave my head a cursory glance. “Growing pretty fast and could probably use some product. Why?”
I blew out a breath. “I dunno. I’ve never done this before.”
Time soldiered on, unfortunately, as did the line. Austin and his friends remained oblivious to us as we creeped closer to the front.
“What did you do the first time you saw AJ after you, like…,” I trailed off, not having a clue how to finish that question.
Ace wasn’t exactly Bree’s ex-boyfriend, but even if he were, this situation didn’t quite compare to that one, and I sighed in realization that we were both out of our depth here. “Sorry. Never mind, Cher.”
A sharp pain—decidedly not one of lost love—jolted me, and I let out a mouselike squeak as I dropped Bree’s arm to clap my hands protectively over my nipples.
The witch and her sneak purple nurples.
“Was that distracting enough?” she inquired unapologetically as she looped our arms again, heedless of the fact that I was still covering my nipples, and tugged me forward in line. “’Cause here he is.”
“ Cody .”
Satan take me.
I dropped my hands and looked up at Austin, hoping like hell—my new home—that the grimace didn’t show on my face. There wasn’t a damn thing I could do to hide the sudden rigidness in my posture, though. Or my smarting nipple.
“Hey, Aus.”
“Bree,” he said in a slightly more pleasant tone.
She waved like a dork. “Hey.”
Silence threatened to descend and make this even more awkward, but Bree, bless her, spoke up.
“What are you guys doing in Bay Springs? Do you have a show?”
“We do. And negotiations are already happening for the summer season at the casinos. We’re hoping to be the headliners this year,” he answered easily, his chest puffing out in pride as he did so. “And what about you?”
“I live here now,” Bree replied just as easily.
The weight of Austin’s gaze moved to me, and the floor seemed to tilt as a light bead of sweat broke out across my forehead.
Bree’s grip on my arm tightened. “This one’s hungry,” she said conversationally. “He lifts now.”
The absurdity of that was so distracting that my foundations stabilized, and I was able to discreetly pull in a deep breath. The urge to say something equally dumb, like, “Yeah, my dad and I lift together, and we’re going to own this building!” grazed over me, but the buzz in my pocket from my phone—a special three-buzz sequence set to the cadence of Li-em Lott—dispensed it.
It was like having a little angel in my back pocket.
My Little Beast saving the day even from miles away.
“Lifting?” Austin asked, his gaze dragging down my body.
It did not elicit feelings of pride. It elicited nothing.
I didn’t need to impress Austin. I hadn’t been able to before, and there certainly was no reason to try now.
“Are you back working at Fortuna?” he asked when I didn’t continue the conversation, and I let go of Bree’s arm as we made it to the front of the line.
“Order for me. You know what I like,” I whispered, her answering nod and small smile a comfort that warmed me before I turned back to Austin. “No, I’m not,” I said, managing to maintain eye contact. “I think my casino days are behind me.”
He swallowed thickly and ran his hand through his hair, the crease between his brows deepening. “So, you’re what? Just….” He glanced around us, but the rush had finished, and barely anyone was in hearing distance. “You’re okay?”
I frowned, not expecting the question, but another three buzzes prodded my ass cheek, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
He scoffed lightly, his expression turning pained. “Somehow, I figured that.”
It might have made me an asshole, but I didn’t care to explore what he meant by that. We really had seemed like a good match in the beginning. He was disciplined and ambitious, but most importantly, he’d asked me to go with him when he signed on to work the cruise ship instead of outright leaving.
It hadn’t occurred to me until later—as in, right now—that he’d only asked me after he’d signed his own contract, which meant that he would’ve gone regardless of my choice.
But considering my state of mind at the end of last summer, the most important fact was that he’d been going somewhere at the time I thought I needed to lose myself.
And God, had I achieved that.
When I glanced back up at him, there seemed only one thing to say.
“I’m sorry, Aus.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. “You said that before.”
I shrugged. “It’s true.”
I’m sorry I didn’t know what love was.
I’m sorry I used you to escape.
I’m sorry that I’m not sorry that it’s over.
Bree appeared beside me then, quickly masking the flash of concern on her face as she handed me my drink. “Ready?”
I nodded at her and turned back to Austin. “Take care. I hope you and the band have a great season.”
His eyes bored into me for a long beat before he sighed again and dipped his chin.
Bree pulled me toward the front door then, but as we made it there, I paused and glanced over my shoulder, a tiny part of my subconscious wanting that final confirmation.
My gaze found Austin’s across the room, and he stiffened as our eyes met. Then he turned his back to the room. To me.
Yeah. He would have always let me go, which was good.
Because I had places to be.
The drive to Gulf Shores was endless and unfortunate.
The universe seemed to not give two shits about my mounting desperation to make it there. That, or it cared deeply but also hated me, wishing to see me suffer.
I got stuck behind a log truck for a long stretch of highway, and for thirty minutes, my mind flashed through scenes from Final Destination. My intrusive thoughts only took breaks to enter intense, brief bouts of call of the void where I imagined gunning my truck into a ditch or off a bridge.
No, not true suicidal ideations, but they were still fucking off-putting.
By the time the highway finally opened, and I was able to pass the truck, I was so relieved that I didn’t even notice which city I was passing through until I saw the big green sign that read:
Welcome to Mobile, Alabama
I gripped the steering wheel until it hurt. It wasn’t so long ago that Cher was picking me up from the port, though I thankfully wouldn’t pass directly by it.
Still, the vibes here were balls.
By the time I made it through Mobile, I’d broken one of my oldest bracelets when it’d gotten caught on another and I twisted them too aggressively. The thin, faded string fell onto the steering column, and as I picked it up and let it fall onto the seat beside me, the sudden grief that overtook me was both unwelcome and unexpected.
Each one held a good memory. Before I had boxes, I had bracelets. I shouldn’t have felt such sadness about this one breaking—I couldn’t even remember what it signified—but I was protective of them all the same.
I ground my teeth together and forced my eyes back to the road, then turned up the ancient radio on the truck to drown out my senses.
My agitation only grew as I realized I wasn’t going to be as early as I’d hoped. I’d woken up well before the sunrise this morning and had even gotten in a quick run with Dad before meeting Bree at the coffee shop. My original plan was to surprise Liem early at the Locc to help set up and see the place he’d told me all about, but that was out now thanks to the log truck.
My agitation at missing out on the time with Liem urged me to pull over into a fast-food parking lot and download a vacation rental app.
I needed time with him. Alone.
Once I made a booking for tonight, I got back on the road and felt much better for having that prepared. If Liem wanted to go back tonight or didn’t want to stay there with me, I’d just eat the cost.
Or drown my sorrows in the rental’s hot tub.
A while later, I turned down my radio as I pulled off the highway and navigated a few smaller streets before eventually pulling up to what seemed to be a sprawling compound.
There were three entrances, each with a security hut and gates. I pulled into one and, after a short conversation with the guard, was allowed through.
Palm trees lined the road on both sides as I passed by rows of houses, then town homes, and then apartments before I pulled into a visitors parking lot at the front of the Live Oak Community Center stationed in the middle of the sprawling campus.
This was not at all what I expected.
I got out of my truck and stretched like a cat, taking in my surroundings as nerves filled me.
I eyed the large modern building.
Liem was in there somewhere, and he was going to help strangers paint me today.
I’d agreed to that.
I ran my hand over my hair, tugging at the short strands.
Then, straightening my spine and gathering my balls, I walked toward the glass doors.
But when I got closer and spied a long, dark braid through the window, that walk turned into a quick stride. And when I opened the door just as Liem disappeared around a corner, a sprint.
I was faintly aware of a voice calling after me and of classical music playing from somewhere down the corridor, but when I turned the corner and saw him just a few feet away, I was suddenly aware of the long absence of my heart.
Because he had it.
He was leaned against the open doorway with his boots crossed at the ankle and his arms crossed over his lean chest. My steps slowed and shortened as my heartless chest clenched almost painfully at the hint of his smile, bright and beautiful even in profile.
I traced my gaze down the rest of him, noting the completely healed cut at his brow, his braided hair, the thin, dark-blue shirt that was cropped just enough to reveal a sliver of skin at his waist.
That piece of heaven called to me, and I answered, driven by pure instinct. Closing the distance between us, I stepped fully behind him.
I whispered, “Ti Bet,” behind his ear.
His surprised inhale was drowned out by the sudden clamor from inside the classroom, but I saw it. I felt it in my bones.
Just as I felt the next one when I smoothed my hand around his waist to his stomach and pulled him lightly, pleasure overtaking me when he easily leaned back against my front. I glanced over his shoulder into the classroom, taking in the dance class that seemed to have just started. The sound of tap shoes mingled with the music from the speakers as they started a warm-up, and I pushed my hand experimentally against Liem’s abdomen and walked backward, seeing if he would follow.
He did.
As soon as we were out of the doorway and had the vacant hallway to ourselves, he gracefully turned on the spot to face me, my hand going along for the ride as it ghosted across his stomach to his hip.
“Dezi,” he said breathily through a smile. “You made it.”
His dark-brown eyes drank in my face, keen as they catalogued every detail.
“You’re stressed,” he concluded after a long moment.
I shrugged lightly and brought my other hand to his braid, tugging it lightly. “I was.”
Liem Lott was a life-giving drug. Seconds in his presence and all the parts of me, down to each of my atoms, finally breathed.
He tilted his head to the side, a slight frown tugging at his mouth. “Will you tell me?”
My entire body heated as I thought about my irritation on the drive over here, all of it seeming so inconsequential now.
Liem’s frown retreated as his lips parted. “Oh,” he breathed, his gaze roaming my face again. He brought his hand up to my cheek bone, and with a featherlight touch, he traced a line over my warm cheek. “That color will be lovely for class.”
My mind sprinted back to that kiss under the willow tree, to the streak of flour across his cheek, but I yanked it back.
“Ti Bet,” I warned, lightly encircling his wrist with my hand. “If you touch me like that again, the class is going to have something else to draw. Something less lovely—and possibly illegal.”
Liem’s pierced eyebrow rose as his gaze darted to the scant space between us, and I exhaled sharply, taking a step back.
“Jesus, Liem. Don’t even look at me.”
He smiled. “I missed you very much.” He held out his hand between us, taking mercy on me. “Come on. I’ll show you to the room before we get started.”
I took his hand, and he pulled me down the hallway, glancing over his shoulder at me as we went. “I like what you’re wearing.”
He probably hadn’t expected this outfit when he’d instructed me to wear something I was comfortable in for today’s class.
His shirt—the one I’d stolen from his room when I was at the cottage early this morning to walk over to the coffee shop with Bree—and a pair of jeans.
I tried to muster a smirk, but he stopped just before the doorway and turned to me again, pure mischief on his face.
“Dezi?” he inquired innocently.
I raised my eyebrows at him warily.
He smoothed his thumb across my knuckles. “You and I both know it wouldn’t be less lovely.”
My jaw clenched and my body rioted.
Satan, take me again.