“Cody, please let me in, baby. I just want to talk, okay?”
To say I freeze mid-step doesn’t paint the picture. I come to such an abrupt, screeching halt I almost give myself whiplash.
My inner gossip girl takes over. Slowing my pace, I creep just enough steps closer to overhear Cody’s response.
Biding my time, I set down my shopping bags and fumble through my purse for my keys. You can’t get in without a six-digit code and a key unless someone inside buzzes you in.
“Go home, Ana.” I barely hear Cody’s stern voice coming through her phone’s speaker. “You can’t keep doing this shit. How did you find out where I live?”
“I followed you,” she admits like it’s so obvious.
Like it’s so normal.
Instead of shame heating her cheeks, she looks proud. “You promised we’d talk,” she adds as I locate the keys and slide one into the lock.
Her eyes flick open at the sound, sparkling as her gaze idles between me, the key, and my finger hovering over the keypad.
“Oh, hey,” she greets, a bright smile stretching her lips. “I’m visiting my boyfriend. Could you let me in, please?”
“Jesus, Ana, what the—” Cody snaps but she cuts him off, finger jammed against the volume down switch.
“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. I’ll be up in a minute.” She ends the call, pulling a concerned face. “He’s not well,” she sighs. “Can’t get to the door. I think he caught the flu.”
I’ve been playing different roles my whole life, and her acting skills wouldn’t fool anyone. Cody obviously doesn’t want this girl here, and the fact she followed him home raises all kinds of red flags.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I can’t let you in,” I say, dropping my hand from the keypad.
I think she’ll bulldoze her way in if I open the door.
She beams, showing off her teeth as she extends her hand. “I’m Ana Johnson. Cody’s girlfriend. Do you know him? Cody Hayes. He moved in a few days ago.”
“I do know Cody,” I admit, less and less comfortable around her. “If he says it’s okay to let you in, I will.”
“It’s okay, honestly. He’s just not well, and—” A movement inside the building stops her talking.
We both peer through the glass door at Cody crossing the entryway, his shoulders drawn back, eyes narrowed, fingers flexing as he clenches and unclenches his big hands. He’s been doing that since I can remember—a telltale sign of nerves.
The heavy door swings open, and Cody blocks the path, snatching my shopping bags off the ground.
Without so much as a cursory glance my way, he hands them over, stepping aside to let me through, then zeroes in on Ana.
“I’m taking you home. We’ll talk on the way.”
The last thing I see before he drags her toward his Mustang is the elated, dreamy look on Ana as she stares at Cody’s fingers cinching her arm.
She’s not far off melting into a puddle at his feet.
I can easily relate. There’s no denying that Cody is handsome. He’s a Hayes. They’re all hot, but Cody is just... more.
Broad shoulders, the expanse of his muscular back, the way he always wears his long, dark hair in a bun, short beard trimmed. And when he’s in his white sleeveless tank top and gray cargo joggers for the gym like I’ve seen him the past week...yes please.
When Conor, Colt, and Cody were younger, they wore their hair and clothes exactly the same, making it nearly impossible to tell them apart. But as they entered middle school, they began to differentiate themselves. By high school, their sense of fashion evolved, and there’s no mistaking one for another anymore.
And no overlooking Cody every time I see him in the hallway. It’s not a secret I’ve had a crush on him since high school. Half of the school lusted after the triplets.
My innocent crush turned not so innocent when I moved to college. I hadn’t seen Cody for a year, since he graduated earlier, and when I caught a glimpse of him after all that time, my insides somersaulted backward.
Cody was always good-looking. Always a catch, as the girls called all the Hayes. On top of his looks, he was funny. Clever. Careless in an adorable, boyish way. But in that one year he changed a whole lot.
