“Well, she might be onto something because I’ve never met anyone like you.”
There was no mistaking the inflection in his voice. He’d meant that as a compliment and my skin flushed accordingly. He had a mesmerizing effect on me. I felt like a schoolgirl sitting next to her crush.
“Nah,” I waved off the compliment for some self-deprecating fun. “I would’ve been just as weird if they’d named me Lauren.”
“I didn’t say weird, I said unique. There’s a difference.”
“A very slight one but, yes, thank you for that.”
He smiled, eyes twinkling in the dimming light. “Believe what you will but I like your name. It suits you.”
More heat crawled up my neck. “Thank you.”
Get it together, Breeze.
“Is Bodhi your real name?”
He seemed genuinely rattled by my question. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I don’t know,” I hesitated, sparing him a glance. “I thought maybe it was a stage name or something.”
After a moment of silence, he replied, “No, it’s just… sorry. Bodhi’s my real name, yeah.”
Whoa, what the hell was that? His adverse reaction to such a seemingly innocent question intrigued me. What was up with this guy and why couldn’t I shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye?
Trying to stay as cool and unaffected as possible, I asked, “So, where to?”
He shrugged. “I’m currently homeless with no phone, no wallet, and no clothes.”
I nodded before delivering what I hoped was a witty zinger. “So, I should drop you off at the pier then?”
9
Bodhi: Taste of Freedom
Breeze Marigold Cassidy pulled up to a plain-looking one-story home and parked on the street. But instead of getting out of the car and heading inside, I watched her case the place with the efficiency of a burglar.
An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. What the hell was she doing? What the hell wasIdoing? I should have known better than to trust a total stranger. I knew nothing about her and still I’d accepted her offer to stay at her place for the night. Chances were she’d tipped off the media and in a matter of seconds I’d have a barrage of cameras flashing in my face. How much would she make by selling me out? Dammit. Even after everything I’d been through tonight, sleeping under the pier sounded preferable to this crap.
Lips pressed in a tight line, I shook my head and contemplated the best way to get out of this mess. I wasn’t pissed at her as much as I was irritated at myself. I knew better than to let my guard down. How many times did I have to pay the price before I finally got it through my dense skull that putting blind faith in strangers never turned out well? If Breeze’s behavior was any indication, I had at least one more lesson to learn.
When she’d brought up the idea of bringing me home, I’d been in no position to decline. Actually, no, that wasn’t true. I easily could have refused her offer. One call, and I’d have my choice of any five-star luxury hotel. But being alone in some sterile, impersonal space was the last thing I’d wanted. Even if my father arrived to keep me company, he’d never be able to fully appreciate the sheer horror of what I’d survived. But Breeze would.
I was in this situation now because I didn’t want just any company—I wantedhercompany— the woman I’d survived hell with. Breeze got it. She’d lived the nightmare right alongside me. Years from now, when I retold the events of tonight, she would always be part of the narrative.
Suddenly I felt bad for my lack of faith in her. It’s not like she’d had time to network and sell me out. And if I thought about this logically and not with my typical blustery arrogance, I’d realize there was nothing staged about our meeting. Nothing planned or predicted. Everything that had happened to us tonight had been the result of pure happenstance.
If I couldn’t trust a person thrust into the path of my oncoming vehicle, then I had bigger problems than I thought. I’d always lived by the ‘trust no one’ motto but things were different now.Iwas different. Running through that burning house, struggling for every breath, a horrifying thought had popped into my mind: no one would miss me when I was gone. Sure, millions of fans would mourn my death, but none of them knew the real me. And they’d move on as soon as a new teen idol was crowned.
No one would truly mourn my passing. No one I loved anyway. And the reason was, I didn’t really love anyone back. My life was bleak. There was no light. No connection. No passion. As horrible as tonight was, I’d been given the gift of foresight. Life was too short to be lived in the dark.
With that in mind, I was dedicating myself to a whole new beginning. A whole new me. Instead of being the same old Bodhi Beckett I’d always been, I was going to try something new. Be someone different. And lucky for me, I just happened to have a whole other identity—one I hadn’t known about until three months ago. Today wouldn’t so much be the death of my old self, but the rebirth of the person I was born to be— Alexander Easton. Son of Marni Easton, and god knows who else.
“Problem?” I asked, setting aside my reservation.
“A small one but I think we’re good.”
“What are you looking for?”
