Page 19 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

“Breaking up would imply we were together, and...”

He tried to pull back, but I held him steadfast. I didn’t want to look at him while I was sulking. “You left me. You broke up with me. You gave me the old ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ routine, which is terrible, by the way. Because it was me. This whole time, I was the problem.”

He pulled back and this time I let him. His expression was sad and sorry. “No, it wasn’t. It was me. I didn’t want to hurt you or Becca.”

“How long?” I asked. “How long have you . . . you know . . . ?”

“Been tragically in love with my best friend?”

I couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Yeah.”

“Forever.” He shrugged. “I just thought it was teenage hormones. I thought all sixteen-year-olds wanted to fuck their friends.”

I snorted. “Ah, no. Not generally speaking, no.”

“But then girls happened,” he said, almost apologetically.

“With you, it wasn’t about the physical stuff.

You were my best friend, the one person in our crazy world who was always by my side.

Never a doubt, not for a minute.” His smile turned sad.

“I knew I loved you... Well, I knew it was actual love when I’d see you with women.

Remember in Rio at that bar... God, I felt sick to my stomach because you were with me in the van or backstage—hugging, lying on me, your arm around me—then you’d go hook up with some random woman. ”

“But you did too,” I said. “I never suspected a thing.”

He made a tortured face. “I tried to ignore it. Tell myself it was nothing. Try to lose myself in faceless, nameless women. And Vana.” He frowned.

“I thought if I tried a serious relationship, it’d be different.

I tried to convince myself I was happy and that I didn’t think about you all the damn time, but then you and Becca started dating. ..”

Oh god.

He shook his head. “I wanted to be happy for you both, but honestly, it fucking killed me.”

“I asked you,” I tried. “I asked you if you were okay with it. If you hadda said no...”

“I wanted you to be happy. And my sister.” He got a little teary then.

“I just wanted you both to be happy. I told myself that should be enough, but it was so much worse. I tried to separate myself from that, tell myself you could never love me the way I needed you to. And you’d think after years it’d get easier, but nope. So much fucking worse.”

“Oh, Luke.”

“And then you went away with her, and you’d been away together before—it was no big deal—but oh my fucking god, I couldn’t stand it.

It was making me crazy, and I knew something had to give.

You took me to the cabins, and it was just us.

Like the cure to all my problems was actually killing me inside.

And then you asked me to share your bed with you.

I woke up and you were there, sound asleep and facing me, and fuck, Blake.

Do you know how much that fucking killed me?

God.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I needed to put some distance between us to get my head on straight. I was losing my mind. I needed to clear out, take some time. It was the only thing I could think to do. I couldn’t lose your friendship, Blake. It woulda pushed me over the edge.”

“Like me, all this last week. It was a kind of heartbreak like I’d never felt.

I didn’t know why you’d just up and leave me.

You’d talk to Maddox but not me. I didn’t think for one second you’d leave the country.

And he knew where you were and never told me.

I was losing my damned mind and he never once even tried?—”

“I asked him not to tell you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Why? Luke, why?”

“I was trying to save our friendship. I didn’t know you felt the same way.”

“I didn’t either,” I admitted stupidly. “Not until I didn’t have you no more, and the thought of you not wanting me almost killed me.

Jeremy told me to think about why the world always thought we were together, and I didn’t really understand what he meant.

Same with Becca. She was all like, ‘Imma hold your hand while I tell you this, but you’re in love with him,’ and I thought maybe she had a point, but it wasn’t until I saw all those photos, newspaper clippings, and magazines all over the floor. ”

He cringed. “I was going to burn them to try and say goodbye to the idea of us, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. So I left and came here. I’m so sorry, Blake.”

“I saw us in those photos,” I murmured. “How you looked at me. But also how I was looking at you. I never realized. Which sounds stupid, and obviously why Becca called me blind and a dumbass. Because it was one thing to hear that you were in love with me, but it was something else entirely to finally figure out what I feel.” I shrugged.

“I could break up with Becca, and it was fine. But you? It fucking killed me. And that song. God, Luke. The song ‘Code Word’?”

He barked out a teary laugh. “I wrote that years ago.”

“Did you ever come up with one? A code word?”

He shook his head. “No. It would have only hurt more.”

I frowned. “I’m so sorry, Luke. I’m sorry for all the years, all the times you were miserable and couldn’t tell me.”

Luke put his hand to my cheek, and sweet heavens, it burned, and then he pressed his forehead to mine. “We made a mess of things, didn’t we? ”

“A spectacular mess,” I agreed. “I was literally on the floor sobbing, holding all those photos and my song.”

The corner of his mouth pulled upward. “And they all saw? Or so you said.”

I gave a nod. “Yep. And there was yelling, and I told Maddox to go fuck himself, I think. I can’t remember exactly. It might have been fuck you .” I shrugged. “I’m still pissed at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Luke said gently.

“Hm. Still mad at him, so I might wanna leave that for a day or two. But we should text Becca and let her know I found you.”

He made a face. “Are you sure she was okay?”

I nodded. “She was. She drove me to the airport so I could come find you. She broke up with me. Days ago. Actually, when I’d had a two-day bender by myself, lost a whole day, woke up on the floor, and was sooo hungover.

It was kinda mutual, we both knew it was over, but ultimately she dumped my ass and told me I needed to deal with how I felt about you.

” Then I shrugged. “But she did come looking for me when my mom called her, worried.”

He smiled, kind of. “I never meant to hurt her. Or you. I’m sorry. I considered telling you when we were at the cabins. God, I almost told you. But if I’d have told you how I felt, you’d have run a mile. Or laughed at me. Or told me to wake up to myself.”

I shook my head, even though I knew he was probably right.

“Maybe. Maybe not. You could have sat me down and shown me all those photos. You could have told me to look, to really look at how I’d been looking at you for the last ten years.

I never looked at Becca like that. I never looked at anyone like that.

It would have been a shock, probably, but anything would have been better than the last week without you.

It was so bad, Luke. I was so bad. I couldn’t function.

All I could do was cry, apparently.” I sighed.

“But it was the kick in the pants that I needed. It turned my entire world on its head, and everything I thought I had—you, Atrous, fame, music—I realized I didn’t have any of that at all.

It was all gone. I was so fucking angry and pissed off and heartbroken.

But if you leaving made me wake up to myself, if it made me see what you really mean to me, then I can’t even be mad, can I? ”

He stared into my eyes, into me, and put his hand to my face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

“You’re not allowed to leave me again. I mean it, Luke. I came here to find you. To tell you that I’m sorry for being so blind, and I’m yours if you want me. If you want that. I don’t even know how or what it means, but I want to find out. I want to be with you. However, whatever.”

He smiled, then he studied my face, my eyes, my lips. “You were going to kiss me before,” he murmured.

“You said we should talk.”

“We’ve talked enough. For now,” he murmured before he licked his lips, his eyes burning into mine. “Maybe we should see how it feels. If it feels right. I’ve never kissed a man before, so...”

“Me either,” I breathed, my eyes drawn to his lips. My god, I wanted to kiss him. I cupped his jaw in my hands and had to tilt his face up a little. He gasped quietly and the sound lit something inside me.

I pressed my lips to his, warm and soft, my eyes floating closed, and my lungs no longer needed air. A whole zoo of butterflies swarmed my belly, and I felt alive and weightless and...

His lips were softer than I thought they’d be.

I closed my lips around his, kissing him again, smiling because it felt so right. I slid my arm down his back and pulled him in closer. His body was hard and muscular yet warm and familiar. And it was Luke. It was my Luke .

I tilted my head, wanting to deepen the kiss. I wanted to taste his tongue...

But he pulled back, dazed but smiling. “Not weird,” he whispered.

“Definitely not weird. Actually, it was the opposite of that, and I’d very much like to do it again, but better. I can do way better than that.”

He laughed, and fisting the front of my hoodie, he pulled me against him, our mouths crashing together, open, our tongues meeting, sending jolts of fire through my bones.

He tasted like summer and sunshine, mango and honey, and oh my fucking god, I wanted more.

He slid his arms around me, hands gripping my back, strong and firm and everything I’d been missing.

My body was electric, my skin was on fire, his tongue in my mouth was heaven, and it was all too much but not enough.

I wanted more.

Needed it.