Page 142 of Drop Three

“I love this song. Selena was my idol growing up.”

“I know, you told me once,” Bodhi tells me confidently mid-turn.

The music flows through the rhythm of our bodies, and I feel closer than I ever have to him.

There’s something much more intimate in a loving gesture that shows you see someone and will stand beside them through the lowest of lows—more intimate than even a kiss.

“How do you remember that?” I giggle, spinning myself into him.

My hands find his shoulders as our eyes lock, and Bodhi doesn’t let me go this time. “When are you going to realize that I’m not as bad as I seem?”

I stop my movements and think about his question before answering, “You’ve never been bad to me, Bodhi.”

“Then what would you call me?”

I don’t hesitate. “Untouchable.”

I don’t think I shock him with my answer, but more so confirm what he already knew. Bodhi has always been untouchable.

Forbidden fruit, if you will. My brother’s best friend.

Tortured and closed off.

But he’s also always been kind and caring, showing up for me no matter the time of day.

“I don’t disagree. I’ve been working on that, though.”

There’s a fine line between right and wrong when you’re in love. The lines blur, and all the mumbled bullshit of why the one you love is wrong for you should be forgiven.

There’s no black and white.

It’s all gray.

We excuse the inexcusable and we love the unlovable.

That’s the beauty of loving without conditions.

“I know you have,” I tell Bodhi.

He twirls me again as the song changes to “Oye Como Va” by Santana, and my grin returns.

Latin music is my favorite tune to dance to. Bodhi and I continue our lively dance while the Strikers team finally joins us, and the energy is contagious.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kingston sings out, shaking his ass in circles.

“My milkshake is about to bring all the girls to the yard,” Gus hollers over the music, forgetting all about his date entirely.

“Wrong genre, dipshit,” King says.

Cal swoops in to steal me from Bodhi, not asking, only telling, per usual for my brother.

“What up, big brother?” I ask him as Cal cradles me to him while we dance to the beat of the music.

“You good?” he asks in my ear.

“Mhm. Great.”

“I’m not an idiot, Navy.”What is he talking about? Did he see us kissing?

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