Page 27

I wait for a single breath before slipping out, handing the valet my keys and the padded envelope I had waiting in my back pocket. The seasoned gentlemen nods and steps aside, waiting for Cody to join me at the elevator’s golden doors before driving away.

“Ready?” I ask as the doors slide open. Cody doesn’t answer, stepping inside with his jaw tight and shoulders curled inwards in his black coat. The doors close behind us, me on one side and Cody standing against the other. He makes a point to keep his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, the mirrors on each wall reflecting back how his eyes are cast downwards.

Running a hand over my styled hair, I school my own features. What I wouldn’t give to shove him against the wall and take his forgiveness. It would be temporary, but I’m not known for my patience.

Cody has been my entire world since we were kids, the one I relied upon to keep me strong. Now the roles aren’t only reversed, but we’re standing apart as finely dressed strangers. I want to tell him pretty lies that I’ve changed, that I won’t give into Meg again, but I refuse to let those words pass my lips. If I can’t offer him anything else, I will be honest.

The numbers above the door climb far too slowly, each floor dragging out another second of his bitterness and my guilt. Before I spiral, I remind myself that he’s here. He could have left my message on read, but he got dressed and turned up. That has to mean there’s something left to salvage, something left to fight for. If only I can convince him I’m worth waiting for.

Fuck it. I cross the elevator before I can overthink for one more second, catching the front of Cody’s coat and shoving him back against the mirrored wall with enough force to make him gasp. His stoney eyes flash wide as I crowd him, one hand braced beside his head and the other curling around his nape. My lips crash against his, desperately and passionately pouring all of the apologies I can’t form through the connection.

Beneath me, Cody goes rigid, his stubborn pride refusing to give in too easily, but I don’t pull away. I soften the pressure of the kiss without retreating, gliding my mouth over his slow enough for him to shove me off if that’s what he wants.

A shudder works down his spine before he finally tears his hands free of their pockets, gripping my shirt and hauling me closer with a low sound that vibrates straight through me. Relief hits my chest so hard, it physically hurts. There he is, my Cody with enough bite to put me in my place and enough desire to keep me pressed against him. Responding in earnest, Cody’s tongue plunges into my mouth, consuming my senses. All I can feel, smell, taste, hear and see is him.

“Fuck, Code,” I sigh between his lips. His fingers twist harder in my shirt, pulling the fabric tight enough for the seams to protest. I don’t relent through. I press him harder into the mirrored wall until this icy, wounded version of him starts to unwind against me. Until his body remembers how we’ve always clung to each other through the friction and come out stronger.

When I finally pull back, it’s only far enough to breathe. My thumb brushes the side of his throat, where his pulse is hammering beneath the skin. I keep him pinned there, our chests rising and falling in time.

“I’m not spending tonight with you hating me from three feet away,” I murmur, my voice rougher than I intend. “You can hate me whilst in my arms, your lips bruised and eyes hooded, just like this.”

“You don’t look any better,” Cody is quick to retort. A quick side glance in the mirror confirms it. My lips are parted, a pink twinge high on my cheekbones, and my green eyes are darkened with lust and frustration. What a mess we are, and I’m thankful for it. Let our carefully crafted masks slip away for the world to see who we really are, what we really are. Two young men who can’t walk away from the toxic love they built from pain and darkness. Beneath the surface, we’re the monsters that society won’t accept.

Meeting Cody’s gaze with a small smile, I attempt to flatten the hair at his nape that I’ve been dragging my fingers through.

“I don’t care how I look, as long as you’re with me.” Cody’s mouth curves, just a slight hitch before he pulls me back in, kissing me softer than before. The elevator slows to a stop, a ding announcing our rooftop destination as the doors slide open. Resting my forehead against his, I let the last of the animosity dissolve before straightening his crumpled coat.

“After you,” I gesture to the open doors, making no space between us and forcing Cody to slip past, our hardening cocks rubbing deliciously. This affects him just as much as me, although I run a hand over my hair and catch up to his side in an instant. Before us, candlelight flickers in the cool air, the city glittering far below. I watch Cody’s face before I look at anything else, his eyes roaming over the upper floor which has been cleared just for us.

Heat lamps glow beneath a canopy of climbing greenery, their warmth softening the edges of the breeze. A single table waits near the glass barrier, dressed in dark linen, low candles, polished cutlery, and a simple bouquet. White roses, deep red calla lilies, and a few trailing stems of ivy. The quiet seeps in, the streets too far below to intrude, the waiters, paid for their discretion, hanging back in the shadows.

“You…planned all of this? For me?” Cody breathes. I lower my head in a single nod. Of course, all I really did was place a few phone calls and quote a figure the hotel wouldn’t turn down. The only blessing that comes with being a Calloway is having the money that affords us these luxuries, and spending uninterrupted time together is a luxury.

Cody’s fingers slide into mine, cold from the night air and heavy with silver rings. I curl my hand around his and lead him towards the table, fully aware of every inch of contact between us. Palm to palm. Knuckle to knuckle. Such a small, simple touch, and yet being able to do it on the rooftop seems to hollow me out. Cody and I have done things that would scandalize Hollowbrook and send my father reeling, but always in the dark. Always hidden in hallways or behind closed doors. Even if only a few waiting staff will see it, tonight Cody and I get to be out in the open.

Making our way to the edge of the rooftop first, we peer over at the cars below, so small they could be ants with headlights. Like those cars, our problems feel like they’re a million miles away, drifting on a breeze that causes Cody to shiver. I smirk as he tucks his coat tighter around him. I’m in slacks and a shirt, the cuffs fastened at my wrists and the collar stiff around my neck, but I’ve always run hot. Maybe it’s years of running across lacrosse pitches in a jersey and shorts, working up a sweat until my core feels like it’s molten.

On his next shiver, I guide him to his seat beneath the canopy and more importantly, beneath the heater. Unraveling a folded blanket on the back of the chair, I drape it over his legs and we share a private smile while our drinks are filled. The waiter has disappeared by the time I straighten and take my own seat.

In tall flutes, champagne catches the candlelight, fizzing palely as Cody lifts it to his mouth. With a quirk in my brow, I watch him take the smallest sip possible, prepared to hate it on principle. He pauses, letting the taste settle in his mouth before pressing his lips together in frustration.

“It’s that Prestige Cuvée you like. Remember that New Years my father left the cellar unlocked and we hid down there all night, testing all of his most vintage bottles of champange. This is the one you kept going back to, and if I recall, the one that made you the most giggly.”

“You thought of everything, huh?” Cody glances over the edge of the glass barrier, trying to hide his pleasure at both the champagne and being taken care of. “And for the record, I don’t giggle.”

I raise a single brow whilst Cody glances away before a blush coats his cheeks. Our dynamic is a difficult one, when both of us like to be the dominant. After a beat, he takes another sip and reclines in his chair.

“Okay. I’m ready for you to apologize now.”

“What do you call this?” I splutter out a laugh, gesturing to the table. Cody glances from the candles to the flowers, the flute swirling gently between his long fingers.

“This is a beeline to getting in my pants,” he responds and heat floods to both of my heads. Noticing the flare of my pupils, Cody rolls his eyes and taps a finger to his chest. “If you want to get in here, you have to say it.”

Taking a long sip of my own champagne, I place the glass down and slide out of my seat. Cody’s brows rise as I pace back to his side of the table, his shoulders already tightening with suspicion. After removing the glass from his hand, I grip the arms of his seat and swivel him around to face me. His eyes blow wide at the motion, his breath catching as I slowly drop to my knees. I don’t care how it looks to the staff drifting silently beyond the service door.

Up here on the rooftop, I’m able to only care for Cody’s opinion for once. This is how it should always be, instead of being complicit in the story my father created. Instead, Cody has to climb through windows, slip through side doors, wait in shadows, and accept tiny pieces of me. He has to be pushed aside to keep up my charade while I get to at least appear to have freedom. I took the coward’s way out, and he’s the one who has to continually suffer for it.

“Code, from the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry,” I place my hand over my chest. Cody goes completely still, the candlelight catching on the silver at his brow, his lips parted slightly as if he’s waiting for a catch. That might be what hurts me the most. He’s so used to having his happiness torn away, he’s fearful to accept it anymore. I did that to him.