Page 109 of Missed Sunrise
The elevator doors dinged as they opened, and I stepped through them. “That’s kind of you, Dezi.”
His eyes narrowed in a way that hinted that he’d like to argue with that, even after everything that had just happened.
Baby steps.
“I actually might need your services for a class soon,” I added, not giving him a chance to overthink things. “If you’re available.”
“I’m always available to you.”
I wanted to beam at him, but the serious way he’d said it held me back. Instead, I leaned against the wall by the condo door and replied, “As I am for you.” I glanced down the halls and sighed. “I’m back.”
“Take me inside,” he said quietly. “I may not be able to walk you home or keep you with me tonight, but I can do this, at least.”
I looked my fill of him through the screen, the gravity of the morning—and of the night—passing between us. Then I let myself into the condo and walked straight to the guest room. “Made it,” I said with a smile as I closed the door quietly behind me and leaned against it.
“Good,” Cody said, his pacing coming to a halt. He swallowed thickly, his hazel eyes taking on the same intensity I’d glimpsed a few times over the evening. “I’ll see you soon. Sweet dreams.”
“It won’t be as good as last night,” I said wistfully, smiling as I memorized his face. “But I’ll try to make it good.”
His lips rose and his shoulders dropped as he took in a deep, controlled breath, then nodded.
The call ended, the screen went black, and the evening came to a close.
28
Cody
Sunrisesfrom the deck of the cruise ship in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico had to have been stunning.
I couldn’t recall any of them. Not a single one.
This morning’s display was a different story, as were all the sunrises since I’d learned how Liem Lott looked when he came.
Fucking glorious.
I’d woken well before dawn each morning and had evenyearnedfor the first subtle rays of the day.
And I’d never yearned for shit before. Not a damn thing.
But when, on the fourth morning of waking up without Liem, he sent me a photo of the sunrise at the exact same moment I was about to do the same to him, I both yearnedandswooned.
It branded me. It became a core memory.
I’d taken the photo for him from downtown Bay Springs while running with Dad. We were getting closer to Mordor each day, and he’d blessedly made no comment when I’d suddenly changed course to trek through the dew-tipped grass of the town square. He’d just followed quietly and waited beside me,stretching his quads while I tried to find a spot where I could capture the stunning pink-and-blue sunrise while keeping the weathered gazebo in frame.
As if the sight of the worn, white wood might lure Liem back home sooner.
I sent the photo and then put my phone back in the holder strapped to my arm Dad had gotten me after our first run together and thought about the phone calls and texts I’d been exchanging with Liem since that night on the beach, the memory of them carrying me through the last half hour of our run.
Our cooldown lap ended on Main Street, and we slowly halted in front of Bay Hall.
“Whatcha think?” Dad asked, angling his head toward the tall brick building.
I braced my hands on my knees, pulling in a deep lungful of air. The morning runs were getting easier, but it was like Dad knew when I wasn’t completely struggling and took it as a signal to push our pace harder.
“I think,” I panted, straightening as I wiped my hand across my forehead. “I think I’d rather do squats than this.”
Dad chuckled and stepped off the sidewalk as some pedestrians approached, and I did the same. “Why not both? We can grab a snack from here and then get a quick set in when we get back to the house.”
