Page 82 of Code Word
That didn’t mean I had to cut all ties to Maddox or Jeremy. They were going to be a package deal, I was pretty sure. And by inclusion, Roscoe and Steve. I loved them all, I really did.
But sometimes that wasn’t enough.
I picked up Luke’s guitar, plonked my ass on his lounge chair, and began strumming out a few bars.
Of nothing in particular. Nothing old, nothing new. Just chords.
I could see Luke down by the water, talking on the phone. His hair tousled in the wind, his shirtless body bronzed in the sun.
And I watched him, thinking about everything.
How much I loved him.
And I did. Sooo fucking much. I loved him, was in love with him, wanted to spend my life with him.
I wanted to do whatever it took to make him happy.
I wanted Becca to be happy too. I wanted good things for her. I wanted her to find someone who’d treat her better than I did.
I wanted to sell my house. I wanted to close off that chapter of my life. A lot of chapters. Who I was. Who I used to be.
I wanted to let go of the anger I had.
Anger I didn’t even know I was holding onto.
Anger aimed at someone in particular . . .
Luke came back onto the patio, frowning, sad.
Oh no.
I put his guitar down and opened my arms for him. “What happened? I thought she was okay with us.”
He folded himself down to fit squarely into my side, his body warm from the sun, and I wrapped my arms around him. “She was... she is,” he said, “totally fine with it. With us.”
I rubbed his back. “Then what’s wrong?”
“I still feel kinda shitty.”
I gave him a squeeze and kissed the top of his head. “Same. To be honest. She deserved better.”
He was quiet for a bit, his face on my shoulder, his hand on my chest. “She said she knew all along. She said everyone did.”
“Except me.”
He snorted. “Except you.” Then he sighed. “Same as Vana, I guess. I feel shitty about that too.”
I kept rubbing his back. “Did you want to call her?”
“What? No. She wouldn’t answer anyway. She deserves better too.”
I kissed the side of his head. “We are just stellar boyfriends, right?”
Luke snorted but then he raised his head, propped up on his hand, so he could look me in the eye. “Is that what we are?”
Oh, shit.
“Well, I wasn’t talking about us with the sarcastic stellar comment, but yeah. I guess? Are we boyfriends? Or are we more than that? I don’t know. I haven’t thought about labels. I guess we are. But we are also more than that, right?”
