Something ridiculously protective rose in me earlier as Cody stood in front of me in my bedroom, a shy smile playing across his lips, dressed as Antoine. There was something so utterly vulnerable about him as he stood there, four scars, two on each side of his left knee just above the red soccer sock. I’ve never felt protective of anyone like that before, my family coming close, but in a different way. It’s like I can’t fucking breathe if Cody’s not happy. I need it—his beautiful smile—like I need the very air in my lungs and the ice beneath my skates.
‘What’s wrong?’ he frowned adorably, his eyes connecting with mine.
‘Nothing,’ I whispered. ‘You look perfect. Youareperfect.’ Relief softened Cody’s features, that shy smile of his taking me off guard, nearly making my legs buckle beneath me.
‘Do I look like him?’he asked, a needy edge to his voice.
‘Fuck, baby, you look way better than him,’ I growled, pulling him in against me by the hem of my jersey, which is from this day forward his jersey. Because I’m going to be wanting him to wear it all the time now. So that I can peel it off again and again and just ogle him. That’s what I’ve been reduced to these days—Luke the Mighty Ogler. The Dumbfounded Drooler. But what can you do when your boyfriend’s abs have abs? Nothing. You can do absolutely nothing but ogle and drool.
‘Yeah?’ he whimpered against my lips, brushing a lock of hair out of my forehead.
‘For sure,’ I nodded, kissing him back, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth, pulling a string of delicious moans from his mouth. Licking at the seam of his lips, his intoxicating flavor exploded on my tongue; a mix of Reese’s and coffee. As usual, I completely lost track of time, everything disappearing, fading into the background. It could’ve been minutes or hours; I have no idea. The ground could’ve disappeared beneath my feet, and I wouldn’t have noticed. That’s the extent of the effect that Cody has on me. He suspends time. It’s his superpower.
Eventually, we broke apart, breathless, lips puffy and bruised, voices hoarse and shaking. If it weren’t for that wicked setting spray that Elly insisted on me using, my face would’ve been a disaster by then, lipstick and bronzer smeared all over the place.
‘I love you,’ Cody laughed, his forehead resting against mine. ‘So so much.’
‘I love you, too, baby. So fucking much,’ I laughed back, wrapping my arms around him like I’m wrapping them around him right now from behind, Greta sending me a knowing smirk.
“That’s my cue,” she chuckles, wiggling her empty Corona bottle in front of us. “You want one?” She smiles at us.
“Sure,” we answer her at the same time, and she just shrugs and bounces off as much as you can bounce off while dressed as Pikachu. Turning in my arms, Cody’s eyes are swimming, a combination of alcohol and fatigue. These past few months have been crazy. For better and for worse, we’ve gotten through them, though. I’m exhausted too, but I’m staying strong for him. Always strong for him.
“You tired?” I mumble against his lips.
“A little,” he slurs, the scent of coconut and pineapple wafting from them.
“You wanna go home?”
“Not yet,” he smiles, swaying in my arms.
“Are you happy?” I ask, already knowing the answer but still holding my breath.
“Yes,” he smiles. “So happy, Luke. The happiest I’ve ever been.” And then my heart skips a beat and then another because I know it to be true. Because I feel it, too. It’s my truth, too. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, and it’s all him. Cody. My Cody. And as if on cue, the music changes and I know. I just instantly know that whatever Nowak comes up with, it won’t ever beat this song.
My fingers wrap around Cody’s on instinct, and I drag him with me to the miniature dance floor. It’s crowded, but the guys make room for us. Just like they’ve made room for us on the ice and in the locker room. And in their hearts, too. I feel it. Love in the purest, most untainted form, forever linked with acceptance.
As I pull Cody against me and hold him close, my eyes catch Nowak’s across the room, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he holds up his phone, wiggling it knowingly. Well, of course.I tip my chin at him in acknowledgment, and he winks back as Troye starts, ‘Now, let's stop running from love. Running from love. Let's stop, my baby. Let's stop running from us. Running from us. Let's stop, my baby.’
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Cody
“So… a mountain lion?”Jared fromJared and Jenna’s Tattoo Shack—yes, you can’t make this shit up—raises a pierced brow at Luke while he takes in my tattoo and the drawing on the paper in front of him. I try to tell myself that Jared is a professional and that he’s touching Luke’s hip in a solely professional manner, but my inner mountain lion just wants to scratch his eyes out.
“Yep,” Luke nods, trying to be the image of coolness, channeling his alter ego of Cool Hand Luke, but I can tell he’s freaking out on the inside, a greenish sheen to his skin. He hates needles. We found that out in the hospital when I was the one who was prodded and poked at, and Luke almost fainted.
“How big do you want it?” Jared pulls on a pair of surgical gloves, the muscles of his tattooed arms flexing, a shark chasing a merman across his upper arm.
“Not too big,” Luke gulps, his voice shaking slightly. “Just… so you can make out the details.” I throw him a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder.
‘Will it hurt?’he asked me for the thousandth time last night when I thought he was asleep.
‘A little,’I whispered.‘But in a good way.’
‘A good way?’
‘Yeah, it’s kinda cathartic, you know? Feeling yourself like that.’
