Page 5 of Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

CHAPTER 5

KENNETH

Cody’s blush returns with a vengeance at my question. He’s so cute, it takes all my willpower not to try and flirt him out of those insanely tight jeans. Well, willpower and the reminder that this is my best friend’s son. Even if he were interested in me —which I’m sure he’s not— I couldn’t possibly hit it and quit it with Mike’s kid. It would ruin my closest, longest-running friendship.

Plus, Cody deserves better than a quick fling with a creepy old man.

“I…I don’t know why you were even there,” he finally answers me, looking into the bottom of his empty mug. He swirls the dregs around. “Not that I don’t appreciate what you did, but…yeah.”

I blink. “You texted me.”

Now he looks up at me, his cute, youthful face painted with genuine surprise. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes” —I fish my phone from my pocket and click open my messaging app, turning the phone to face him— “you did.”

Squinting, Cody climbs off the bar stool and makes his way around the breakfast bar cautiously. He reaches for my phone and his expression twists in confusion, then understanding, as he reads the garbled texts on my screen. “Well, fuck,” he mutters. “That explains Syl’s messages. Ah, shit. Sylvia!”

Pushing my phone back into my hand, he pulls his own from his pocket and swipes at the screen, rapidly tapping at his screen with his thumbs. I wait patiently as he presumably types out a message to ‘Sylvia’ (I’m good with context clues), then looks back up at me after pressing send. “I meant to text Sylvia.”

“Forgive me for stating the obvious,” I can’t help but reply, “but…K is nowhere near S in the alphabet. They don’t even look alike. Not even when you’re drunk.”

With his rounded cheeks turning bright pink again, he mumbles something incomprehensible at his feet.

“Now, pretend I’m twice your age and losing my hearing,” I joke, “and repeat that in my good ear.”

He sighs, but still won’t look at me. “You’re not saved in my phone as Kenneth Tyler.”

“Then what?—”

“Silver Fox. You’re—you’re in my phone as Silver Fox Ken, okay?” The blush on his pale skin has moved beyond his cheeks now, telling me just how mortified he must feel. “And my stupidly drunk ass pressed Silver instead of Sylvia and” —he makes a wide, sweeping gesture with his arms— “ ta-da! ” Shoulders slumping, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m such a moron.”

“Cody…” Empathy is thankfully repressing the amusement I feel at my nickname in his phone. “Look at me.”

“Nope. Just bury me here, thanks.”

“We’re thirty-nine stories high. I can’t bury you in the Cheng family’s ceiling.”

He groans. “Don’t remind me of the height.”

“Cody, seriously. Look at me.”

He slowly drags his gaze from the floor to my face, but he can’t quite bring himself to meet my eyes. I reach for him and squeeze his bicep reassuringly. “I like that nickname, sweetheart.” And, damn it, I realize how much of a come-on that sounds like after the words have left my mouth. Removing my hand from his firm, warm arm, I clear my throat. “I’m flattered, actually.”

Cody screws his nose up. “Please, please don’t give me the ‘you’re a cute kid’ spiel. I know I’m just a kid in your eyes. But I’m twenty-fucking-six and beyond legal.”

“Cody…”

“Not that—not that I’m coming on to you.”

I flounder, at a loss for words. I’m never at a loss for words. Mistaking my stunned silence for a negative reaction, Cody covers his face with his hands and groans.

“Seriously,” he mumbles, barely audible through his palms, “just kill me now.”

I laugh and reach for him again, prying his hands from his face. “Stop. I know you’re an adult. But between being my best friend’s son, and being too good for an aging manwhore like me…well, I think it’s safest to leave it at mutual attraction, don’t you?”

“Mutual…?” Cody frowns and cocks his head, then his eyes widen comically. “Wait. You—you think I’m” —he waves his hand over his torso, still wearing the damn-near obscene mesh shirt from last night— “hot?”

From his soft, russet-colored hair, to his greenish-blue eyes and the smattering of freckles over his cheeks and nose —not to mention his petite build— he is physically very much my type. But it’s the cute, quirky personality I’ve seen peeks of this morning which really ticks my boxes.

However, he is Mike’s son and for that reason alone he is off-limits.

“Cody, you know you’re hot,” I answer simply. “Every man in The Fruitbowl last night would have given their left testicle to have half a chance with you.” Anger bubbles up inside me at the reminder that one of those men is the entire reason Cody’s in my apartment at all. “Including the asshat who had you cowering in a bathroom stall.”

Cody cringes. “That was not my finest moment.”

“None of that is on you.” I’m quick to defend him, but my anger at the other guy comes through in my tone.

Cody takes a step back. “No, I mean allowing myself to get so drunk that I let things get that far. I’m fine,” he rushes to add, probably because the expression on my face has turned thunderous. “Nothing happened. Just…if I’d been more sober, I probably wouldn’t have been as, um, touchy-feely on the dance floor.”

“You did not lead him on by grinding on him while dancing. You were at the fucking Fruitbowl. It’s not exactly a monastery.” I cross my arms, watching as his gaze shifts fleetingly to my biceps. “Besides, you had it right last night: you had every right to withdraw consent at any point and he should have respected that.”

I still have half a mind to get Cody to file a report with the police, because his date’s behavior is more than problematic.

“Mistakes were made last night,” he sighs, “on his part and mine.” Once again, his youthful face scrunches into a grimace. “And if I’d been more sober, I wouldn’t have texted you instead of Syl.”

“Well, I’m glad you did text me.” My lips curl a little at the edges. “How’d you have my number anyway?”

“Dad gave it to me when I moved. Said he’d feel better knowing I could reach out to you if I ever needed help, seeing as you also live in the city.”

A vague memory of Mike asking my permission to pass my number on a couple of years ago surfaces in the fog of my brain and I nod. “Oh, right. Yeah, I remember Mike saying something a while back…” Once again, I tell myself that it would have been smart to ask for Cody’s number in return, just in case. At least then I would have known who was calling or texting me for help.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty…

“So, yeah. I guess he was right about you helping me if I needed it.” Cody’s chuckle is self-conscious, and he rubs his right bicep with his left hand, nibbling on his lower lip before adding. “Thank you for that. You didn’t have to?—”

“Yeah, I did.” Even though I hadn’t known it was him, there’s no way I’m admitting that now. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”