38. CODY

CODY

“ H ey, Plum.” I wandered into the kitchen where she was hunched over her laptop, drinking coffee and typing away. I stared at her hand, the information we had found eating me alive from the inside.

But I shook it away, it wasn’t my story to tell and if she didn’t want to tell me who Julien was, I wouldn’t push it. Instead I dared kiss her cheek in passing and felt her body relax from my touch. A soft tingling feeling spread across my chest at the reaction only fueling the urge to do it more but I stopped myself.

Next weekend was Thanksgiving and, with Arlo home, I was starting to feel better about everything going on. He had filled Silas and me in on everything that was happening in Dallas, but he didn’t seem convinced he fit in there.

“ There’s something weird about them,” Arlo said with a tight shrug like he was uncomfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life.

“Like what?” Silas leaned back against his chair, shoving french fries into his mouth.

“They don’t like each other?” Arlo laughed when Silas made a face, twisted and surprised. Arlo was painfully aware he didn’t sound like himself because he had looked over to me with a sigh.

“It's a job, a professional baseball team.” Silas brushed it off.

“Yeah, but so are the Hornets. We might play college ball, but we still take it seriously. We live together, we eat together, we’re a family. Those guys go home from practice and ignore each other on the weekends?” Arlo explained. “I just don’t think Dallas is where I belong.”

“So you’re coming home?” I blurted out between bites of hamburger.

“We’ll see.” He sighed. “I have to ride out pre-season with them, I owe them that for giving me the chance.”

“You don’t owe them anything,” I grumbled.

“Enough,” Silas warned, hand out to silence my grumbling before he turned his gaze back to Arlo. “Take what you can get while you can.”

I hadn’t asked about Julien again since the porch, scared to hear her answer, so instead we danced around each other for the week.

“How did your interview with Dad go this morning?” I asked her and her eyes shot up from behind the laptop. “That bad?”

“No.” She shook her head but I didn’t quite believe her. “It went really well. I got some good footage.”

I watched her for a second more, taking in her closed-up demeanor before grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“We’re going down to Hilly’s for dinner, did you want to come?”

“Yeah, I could use a break.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. Surprisingly, she did not fight or suspect me. I could see the gears turning behind her soft eyes. I was doing that thing she hated so much: ghosting the problems we had in favor of enjoying the time we had together. I didn’t care. I just wanted to be around her as much as possible.

Trying to cram seven years of distance into four months of unexpected togetherness. It was painful to think about her leaving, so I just opted for ignorance. Had it hurt when she asked me why I don’t fight her on things? Sure, but Clementine had spent enough of those seven years fighting with my ghost, I could see it every time she looked at me.

I’d been lucky, blessed even. Absolutely ignorant. I spent seven years hiding in the good memories of her, fucking, and laughing. I just wanted to give her that now that we were together. No matter how little time I might get to do it.

“Alright, go get changed. I’ll meet you out front.”

Arlo was home, Clementine was smiling, Thanksgiving was in a week, and life seemed okay for once. There was no itch to fill the spaces with drugs or need to get drunk; I had everything I wanted.

Within five minutes, she was sitting in the passenger seat, wearing dark, tight jeans and a white cropped tank top that showed off the smallest strip of skin along her hips and stomach. It was taking everything in me not to pull over on the side of the road.

It didn’t help when her head lolled to the side, and she stared up at me with those beautiful chocolate eyes. I wanted to live in the look she gave me, soft and careful, with a delicate curl to her pouty lips.

Seven years of wishing for this and it still didn’t feel real.

“What?” Clementine asked me.

“Nothing, you’re just beautiful,” I answered and turned into the parking lot of Hilly’s. She didn’t respond but the blush on her cheeks told me enough as we climbed from the car and made our way inside.

Everyone upstairs hovered around one of the booth tables, chatting with Arlo as Ella laughed with Zoey, and Van threw darts with Dean.

“Hey,” Silas called out to me with a handful of glasses. “Help.” He handed me a couple. "You’re still here?” He narrowed his eyes on Clementine.

“I sure am.” She smiled and held her hand out to help.

“You should join us for Thanksgiving next weekend,” he said to her.

I could see her declining before she even opened her mouth to speak. "Oh, come on, Plum. One last dinner, and then you can leave us.”

Hurt flickered across her face, but she shrugged. “Sure… why not.”

“Cody,” Silas said before walking away. “We need to sit down and plan out the exhibition game; I’ve got a hundred people up my ass, and you said you’d help so…”

I tapped two fingers to my chest. “I’ll get on it tomorrow.”

”What’s that for?” Clementine asked as I ushered her toward the table with mugs in my hand.

“Every offseason, we do an exhibition game with the Lorettes just to keep the rivalry alive going into the season. It amps up the fans and the players. It’s a big deal this year.” I shrugged.

“Because you won.” She smiled up at me, and I could feel my chest tighten.

“Exactly.” I handed a beer to Van and offered Clementine a seat at the booth as I leaned over the side. “Are you going to be home for that?” I asked Arlo, who looked over at us as we settled into the group .

“The exhibition game?” He sighed, and Ella watched him for a moment. He knew the answer. He was just scared to say it out loud. “I’m hoping to be, but no promises.”

“Damn, man, the fans are going to show up at the stadium with pitchforks.” Dean scoffed at him and leaned over Clementine to grab his cup. The awkward tension between them was still thick, but neither of them seemed to notice. Silas watched the interaction carefully, gray eyes scanning up to mine with a parental scowl on his face.

“Has there been a decision by Coach who will take over as Captain?” Van asked the question we had all been thinking about for weeks.

Arlo’s eyes flashed to Clementine’s. “Probably not the best time to talk about it.”

Ever since we found out that she had been hiding a fiancé, Arlo had been making tight remarks about Clementine, insinuating that she might be lying about more than just her life back home.

“I’m off the clock, promise.” She raised her hands in the air.

Arlo didn’t seem convinced and turned to whisper something to Ella, who rolled her eyes at him. He laughed gently, rubbing his thumb along her jaw, and whispered a soft please that had Silas shaking his head at the interaction.

“Do you play pool?” She turned, breaking the kiss Arlo had started, and asked Clementine.

“Not very well,” Clementine shrugged.

“A new victim.” Zoey clapped her hands together, slid from the booth, and extended her hands to Clementine.

Brown eyes met, one set suspicious and skeptical, the other curious and intelligent. She understood what Arlo had done, but she took Zoey’s hand regardless of his intentions to get rid of her.

“What the hell was that?” Silas said the minute the girls were out of earshot. “And why the hell did Miele go along with it?”

“She’s still a reporter.” Arlo shook his head and leaned across the table. “We don’t need her writing rumors into that paper. ”

Dean looked over at me, waiting for me to lose my shit, and by all means I should have but I inhaled, slowing the anger that coursed its way to my heart, and sat down.

“There’s been nothing from Coach on who he wants as Captain, he hasn’t even spoken to me about it,” Silas said. “Not that I have a say… I’m just the medical staff, but has he really said nothing to you?”

Arlo shook his head. "He’s keeping the decision close to his chest. I’ll be surprised if he announces it beforehand.”

“Do you think he’ll pick someone outside our circle?” Dean asked, worry lines forming on his face.

“If he picks anyone, it should be you,” Arlo said with a hard nod.

Van and I don’t flinch. “I agree.” I added.

I never had a chance at Captain. Even if I was ready for it, even if I had been a model player my entire career, Dad would never stoop as low as handing it to his son. Van had one more season before he was either drafted or focused on his career. Dean getting it made the most sense. Out of all of us, he had the most potential to go pro.

“There’s no one better for it.” Van slapped him on the shoulder.

“Enough shop talk,” Ella groaned loudly from the pool table across the loft. “Either come make things interesting or go home.”

Zoey laughed and leaned on the pool cue that was basically the same size as her, her eyes bright and full as Clementine shook her head in amusement.

“That’s my middle name!” I slipped from the booth.

“Shop talk?” Dean asked, confused as he followed.

“No, you dumbass, interesting .” I looked back at him and laughed. “It’s a damn good thing that you’re so handsome,” I teased and cooed at him like he was a dog, ruffling my hand through his blond curls as he scowled at me.

“You called for fun, and here I am. We playing teams?” I asked as I leaned over the pool table to come eye to eye with Ella.

“Me and Mary,” she pointed, “against you and Dean.”

“That’s a bad—” Clementine started, but Ella shushed her.

“Losers streak through the campus library.”

Dean’s face turned pale.

“Hell no.”

“Scared to lose?” Ella arched her brow at him. “Didn’t take you for a coward, Franklin. ”

“Don’t call me that.” Dean laughed as he shook his head. “Fine, but in underwear. No full frontal! The last time this happened, Cael and I were put on a twenty-four-hour hold and missed a game.”

“Good thing it’s off-season.” Ella shrugged and held out her hand.

Clementine scooted in beside her and whispered, “are you sure you don’t want Zoey as a partner?”

“I want you.” Ella didn’t take her eyes off of me. “We won’t lose.”

God, I loved it when Ella got that look in her eye. We walked into this game at a loss but it didn’t mean I wasn’t going to mess with Clementine’s focus.

“You better hope you wore your pretty bra, Plum.”

Clementine turned bright red as I extended my hand, full of shit, and shook Ella’s to seal the deal. She groaned and tugged her short brown hair up into a tiny, messy ponytail as Zoey handed her the pool cue along with a rant of advice.

“She’s going to kick our asses, isn’t she?” Dean sighed as we turned around to figure out our strategy.

“Probably with her eyes closed.” Arlo didn’t miss a beat, laughing from his spot at the table where he watched proudly.

“It’s disgusting to see how in love you are. Put it away, man.” I turned away from the table and back to Dean. “She’s got a disadvantage playing with Clem, but it means nothing. She’s too smart to make a bet she can’t win.”

“So why the hell did you agree to it?” Dean asked, fear in those big sea-glass eyes.

“Because I’m bored .” I smiled so hard it hurt my cheeks. Most days, it was hard to feel that fire that drugs helped ignite but, for once, I finally felt like myself.

“Fuck sakes! That should be your middle name. The phrase ‘I’m bored’ gets us all in more trouble than anything!” Dean groaned dramatically and thrust a cue at me before helping Zoey rack the balls. I wasn’t very good at pool. The last four games we played for keeps, I lost. But Dean wasn’t half bad when he was sober .

“Give me that.” I took the beer from his lips as he aimed to down it and shoved it at Van. “I need you sober if we’re going to have a chance.”

“Seriously?” He rolled his eyes and pouted.

“Do you want to streak through the library?” I asked him, turning my hat backward on my head. “Because I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Dean laughed. “It’s like your favorite activity next to skinny dipping and taking shelter dogs for walks.”

“True.” I shrugged. “Well, for your sake, you’d better win.”

“Rock, paper, scissors for start.” I held out my hand to Clementine.

It was a game we played as kids when we wanted to shaft our chores off on each other. Clementine never won and, thinking back on it, I think she might have let me win… I scowled. All the times I had her do my chores so I could sneak off with girls, leaving her alone, she had let me do that.

“What, no ladies first?” She tilted her head to the side, breaking my thoughts.

I wanted to kiss her so bad my breath hitched in my throat.

“I don’t see a single lady here,” I said instead, looking around the table. “Except maybe, sweet, innocent, Sour Patch.” I winked at Zoey, who smiled and framed her face with her tiny hands.

“Stop fucking flirting with my girlfriend, Cody,” Van growled from his stool and threw a straw at me.

“One day,” I teased and blew Zoey a kiss, narrowly avoiding the fork Van threw next. “Best two out of three,” I said, turning my focus back to Clementine and raising my hand.

She wins the first one with paper.

“Ready?” I asked, but she was already saying the words. “Hah!” I yelled, “Rock beats scissors.” I playfully crush her hand with my rock.

When we go the next time, I pause as she claims rock and split my fingers into makeshift scissors, letting her win. She smiles, biting down on her bottom lip, and looks up at me with excitement swimming around in her eyes.

“You let me win, Loverboy,” she cooed.

“I would never, Plum,” I mocked, outraged and clutched my chest, backing away from her.