Page 27 of Wildly Yours
Serena's eyes pop open wide. "I beg your pardon?"
"I'm carrying you. I can come back up to get the tools tomorrow morning. And I'll ask one of the volunteers to come up with me to get your blog picture."
"Cody I really don't think—"
"No arguments, Mayor. I drug you up here, now I'm carrying you down. The only question is, piggy back, potato sack, or wedding night style?"
"Uh…um…what?"
"How do you want me to carry you?"
"Those were my options?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking piggy back but I thought I'd give you a choice."
Her face is flushed, and considering the temperature is cooling off now that the sun is lower in the sky, I can only assume it's because of me.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't going to enjoy this a little bit.
Chapter Fifteen: Serena
Three days ago Cody walked back into my life after a seven-year absence. Now he's carrying me down the side of the hill piggyback style. My legs are wrapped around his body, my chest pressed against his back, and my arms are draped over his shoulders. He's gripping the backs of my knees, and everywhere our bodies are touching feels like a fire has been lit.
To say that we've regressed back to our old ways feels like a misrepresentation of what is happening, but it sure feels like old times and I don't want this to end. But I know it will.
It always does.
Whatever is happening between us won't last. It can't. That's just not the way things work out for me so I can't pretend like this will be any different. And yet with every pulse of my heart, every step he takes, I feel myself relaxing more into being in contact with him. There's a comfort so deep in being with him, like my body knows how to exist without effort. Before he disappeared, Cody was my everything. He was my North Star.
And then he fell out of my sky.
I try to bite down on my ankle pain as he stumbles on a rough patch in the trail. It's amazing how much it can hurt to move something that's been injured. Sort of like me. Not my ankle, but my insides. It hurts to move. And maybe that's why after all this time, I've never gotten over Cody. I've never moved on. It just hurt too much to move on.
"Doing alright back there?"
"Better than alright. Are you available for hire? I need a ride through the spring parade."
His body jerks as he fights back the laughter.
"You want me to carry you through the parade?"
"Or how about from the store to Town Hall everyday? I could use some help then, too. Four blocks is a long way to travel."
"How about I drive you back to your house today, and we can talk about the rest some other time."
We arrive at my car in the lot, and he places me on the hood so I can fish for my keys. I immediately feel cold rush in where his body was pressed against mine. I immediately feel the absence of his warmth. Of him.
I don't know what to do with the tug of war happening inside. Being with him again feels good. Even if there is a giant gap where our trust used to live. And because of that, the voice in my head keeps reminding me to be careful. When Cody abandoned me, the pain of his absence and betrayal was etched on my bones. It was the worst kind of hurt a person could feel—worse than all my family pain combined.
"You've never been to my house."
"Doesn't mean I don't know where you live."
"It's not the house I grew up in."
"I'm aware."
His eyes are heavy with meaning, with what looks like hunger. Maybe he wishes we were still touching, too.
