That hit a little sharper than I expected.
“He’s got that playboy image for a reason, Becs,” he went on. “I’ve been in this industry long enough to know the type. They move fast, they charm easy, and they don’t stick around when things get real.”
I pushed off the counter slightly, shaking my head. “You don’t evenknow him.”
“I don’t need to sit down and have a drink with him to know what he is,” Cody replied, calm but firm. “I’ve seen enough of his kind come through here. Different face, same pattern.”
Pattern.
That word stuck.
I didn’t like it.
“He’s not like that with me,” I said, quieter now but holding onto it.
Cody’s expression didn’t soften—but it didn’t harden either.
“That’s how it starts,” he said.
There was no judgment in it.
That made it worse.
“He shows you just enough to make you think you’re the exception,” Cody continued. “Makes you feel seen. Different. Like you’re not just another girl he’s talked to.”
My chest tightened.
Because that part—
That part felt a little too close.
I crossed my arms tighter. “You’re assuming a lot.”
“I’m recognizing behavior,” he corrected.
Silence stretched between us for a second, heavier this time.
I looked away first, my eyes dropping to the floor because I didn’t want him reading everything on my face.
“I can handle myself,” I said.
And I meant it.
Cody nodded slightly. “I know you can.”
That didn’t change his stance.
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” he added.
I looked back up at him.
“I’m worried about you not seeing it until it’s already done damage,” he said.
That landed.
Harder than I wanted it to.
Because Cody didn’t say things like that lightly.
