Page 18 of Accidentally Joining His Cult

CHAPTERSIX

Cody

Longest. Three weeks. Of my life.

Luckily, Beck gave me the go-ahead to text him, or I probably would’ve gone insane from the anticipation. I seriously have no idea what it is about him that makes me so excited to see him again, I just know that I am.

Everything else in my life has been just as great as usual.

I’ve been traveling a lot. The week after meeting Beck in Chicago, I was in Minneapolis teaching more classes. Then, I spent a week at home in Montana for meetings before heading to California for seminars. Now, I’m in Florida, eagerly anticipating his arrival.

I’ve met some great people since Chicago, too. And I always love my weeks at home with my coworkers and friends.

But for some reason, I’ve found myself thinking about Becka lot.

I catch myself comparing the new people that I meet to him, wondering what he’d think about the classes I’ve been teaching, and wanting to share anything funny that happens with him.

Texting him has been really fun. At first, it was just memes and silly pictures we thought the other might like—or that reminded us of each other. Somewhere along the way, it shifted into actual conversations.

The first time that he called me instead of texting, I was shocked. I assumed it was a butt dial.

Instead, he explained it was intentional, that sometimes work keeps him busy and makes texting hard, but he can still chat while getting things done. And he didn’t want me to feel neglected by his slower replies.

He’s always so thoughtful.

Getting to know Beck and learning more about his interests and life has been amazing. He’s so funny, his dark humor and sarcasm never cease to entertain me.

I feel like I’ve known him for years. I know all about his siblings and his friends. I’m now practically an expert on the Chicago Werewolves and am very excited that they’ve officially secured a spot in the playoffs, which begin in two weeks. I’d love to go to a game with him. To see first hand if he gets excited when they score, nervous if they’re losing, or if he tries to play it cool as their owner.

I dismiss that thought as soon as I have it. I’m really glad that Beck wants to be friends, but realistically, this will be mostly a texting friendship.

We live in different parts of the country, and both have super busy jobs that we love. I know that his demanding life will probably prevent it from becoming a common occurrence, but I’m so excited that he decided to come this weekend.

I can’t imagine where my life would be today if I hadn’t found my way into a Kyla program. During my senior year of college, my fraternity brother’s mom had signed him up for it, but he’d really wanted to go to a sorority formal that weekend instead. He asked if I was interested, since the class was already paid for, and agreeing to go was probably the best decision I’ve ever made.

After that first class, something in me clicked into place, and I knew I needed to continue taking them. My grades improved, my relationships improved, and I felt a sense of purpose in a way I never had before. Sure, I was already going to a fancy college for a business degree, but I had no real ambition or idea of what to do after graduation.

I am the man I am today because of what I’ve learned in these programs. When the opportunity to join the Kyla team was presented to me after graduation, I didn’t hesitate to accept the challenge. I work hard to do the team and our founder justice every day, striving to improve people’s lives the same way that mine has been.

I always love these retreats. It’s a chance to reconnect with friends from over the years and to learn from Kyla’s senior leaders. This weekend, at least thirty coaches I’ve personally trained will be here, plus some of my closest friends from management.

But if I’m being completely honest, I’m probably the most excited to see Beck again.

When my Uber pulls up to the venue, I spot Beck leaning casually against the building, absorbed in his phone. Excitement courses through me as I grab my bag and head straight for him.

He doesn’t notice me approach, so I lean in close and whisper in his ear, “Just who I was hoping to see.”

In the next moment, Beck spins to pin me against the wall with his forearm horizontal, digging into my chest, holding me in place. Damn, he’s strong. Not many people could hold me down so easily.

He’s panting, and his pupils are blown as he looks up at me with an expression of anger and confusion. Then, it melts into relief as he recognizes me and smiles.

“Holy shit, Cody, you fucking scared me. You can’t surprise someone from a big city like that.”

“I didn’t expect you to attack me. I thought I’d get a little jump or a laugh or something.” I smile back at him, but it’s hesitant. Beck is still holding me against the wall, and as our eyes meet, I’m suddenly very aware of how his hard body is pressed up against mine.

My cheeks heat as I realize that’s not the only place blood has rushed to. I finally give him a little shove to get him off of me before he realizes that my dick is hard.

Apparently, I like being manhandled?

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