Page 24 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

THIRTEEN

Luke and I went for a swim in the ocean, we had some fresh fruit for lunch, and then we spent the afternoon on the patio in the shade, lazing on the lounge chairs while Luke strummed his guitar.

Perfect didn’t begin to cover it.

Pretty sure he thought I was joking when I said I didn’t ever wanna go home.

I wasn’t joking.

The rational part of my brain knew I was just thinking that because I didn’t want this bubble to burst. Because, rationally thinking, going back to LA and to the house we’d lived in for years—together, but not together—would burst the bubble of perfection I’d found here.

I wanted this to last forever.

“Do you think Alma would sell this house to us?” I asked.

Luke stopped strumming. “Ah, probably not. She said it was her parents’ before.”

“I was thinking of selling the house in Malibu,” I admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And when I went back there after I left the cabins, it really felt all wrong. ”

“You never lived there,” he mused.

“Nope.”

“Maybe there were residual vibes from the eat-pray-love people,” he said, kinda joking, kinda not. “Maybe it just needs an exorcism, some sage burning, or whatever they do.”

“Pretty sure that’s something the eat-pray-love people would say.”

He might have meant that as a joke, but there was something underlying, like resentment?

“You know,” I said, gently. “I can’t change the fact I dated your sister.” His eyes shot to mine and I knew I’d guessed correctly. “There’s gonna be history and memories. I’m sorry. I wish I could shield you from that, but I can’t change it.”

He held his guitar, poised, ready to play. But he didn’t. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t want it to come between us. I don’t want you to resent me or her. Or for it to be something we can’t overcome. But I don’t want you to be smacked in the face with it every time you turn around, either.”

“Is that why you don’t want to go home?”

I sighed, put my arms behind my head, and closed my eyes.

“Partly. I don’t want to go back to any of it.

Our families aside, of course. But the fame, the fans.

.. it’s not as bad as it used to be. But here, earlier today, we totally walked around the market and the store, and nobody knew us.

Nobody cared. It was awesome.” I didn’t really want to admit this next part out loud, but god, I needed to say it. “I just feel...”

“You just feel what?”

I turned my head to look at him. “I feel like I need to leave Atrous behind. It’s not who we are anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I loved it all: the tours, the concerts, the music, and getting to do it all with the guys. What we did, what we accomplished, the shit we saw. It was fucking insane.”

“But? ”

“But that’s over. And I don’t know who I am.”

“Blake,” he murmured.

“No, don’t misunderstand. I don’t mean that I’ve lost all meaning or anything.

I just mean... well, we were just kids, right?

We signed at sixteen. Didn’t even finish high school like everyone else.

We graduated via weblink because we were in Paris.

Our lives were so far removed from ordinary.

We were the pinnacle of fame and fortune—with the pressure, the stress, the injuries—and then boom . ” I snapped my fingers. “It’s over.”

He nodded slowly. “I get it. I do.”

“I just want to be normal,” I added. “I don’t even know what normal is.

But this,” I gestured to the house, to him and me.

“This is honestly the best thing to happen to me in years. I’ve been here for less than one day, and I want this, whatever this is, forever.

I want to stay here, just you and me, and forget the rest of the world exists. ”

He strummed his guitar a few times, smiling out at the ocean. “I dunno about forever,” he said eventually. “But maybe we could check out the real estate down here for a vacation place.”

I grinned at him. “For real?”

He laughed and strummed some more, one of the songs he’d played in the studio at the cabins. “And maybe I should sell my house,” he said.

“Back home?”

He nodded, strumming quietly. “It’s too big. There’s no point in having a party house when our partying days are well behind us.”

“True.” It was too big. That house could seriously have its own zip code. But then something occurred to me. “Um, did you still want me to live with you? Is that still... are we... What I’m trying to say is...?”

He laughed. “Are we still talking in complete sentences? ”

I snorted. “Shut up. I need to know if I’m looking for a new place. Because you told me at the cabins you needed me to move out, so does that still stand? Are we not gonna live together anymore?”

He clearly found something amusing. “Well, yeah of course we are. And I didn’t tell you to move out. I just needed some time without you. I was trying to go cold turkey, remember?”

I wish I had something to throw at him. “Mm. Don’t remind me. Worst week of my life.”

“And anyway,” he said in a moving-right-along tone. “A new place for us to move into will be a fresh start. A new place we have no history in, no memories of our exes.”

I closed my eyes again. “Sounds good.”

Sounded perfect, actually. Definitely couldn’t be hit in the face with any memories of me dating his sister if we had a new place.

“Something way smaller. Like the size of this place,” he mused quietly. “With just one bedroom. That way you’re clear on where I stand on the living-together arrangements and whether I want that.”

My heart knocked against my ribs and I cracked my eyelids open so I could see his face, his cheeks pink, smile shy.

“One bedroom, huh?” I murmured.

He smirked and began to strum again as if he hadn’t just said we’d be sleeping together, sharing a bed together every night.

I took in his body, from his bare feet, his legs, up to his blue swim shorts and the white muscle shirt that showed off his shoulders, his biceps. His muscular forearms, his talented hands...

Damn.

“You know,” I said, “you’re so tragically far away. ”

He tried not to grin as he kept strumming. “Tragically, huh?”

“So very far away from me,” I whined. I opened my arm for him. “When you could be over here with me. We could be snoozing together right now, but alas...”

He mis-strummed and his eyes lit up with humor. “Alas? Did you just say alas?”

I nodded, very seriously. “Alas, indeed I did.”

He put his guitar on his lounge chair and joined me on mine, lying down with me, using the crook of my arm as his pillow. His sun-warmed body was divine, his scent of deodorant lingering with the saltwater dried on his skin.

“Is this better?” he asked, voice low.

My nerves were buzzing through me, anticipation and longing warring with the desire to kiss him. I tried to make a noise of assent, but it came out as a grunt, and Luke raised his face to look at me. He began to smile... until he saw my face.

I took a hold of his jaw and pulled him up so I could crash my mouth to his. His surprise melted away and he opened his lips, taking my kiss.

My tongue.

The sound he made was guttural and it lit me up inside.

Sparks, desire, pure need.

All of it.

I led this kiss, my hand to his face, my tongue in his mouth, devouring him. He tasted like papaya and heaven. I couldn’t get enough...

I wanted him.

Him. A man.

Luke.

He trailed his hand over my chest, up to my neck, pulling me closer, pulling me down on top of him.

And holy fucking shit.

I wanted to crawl over him, spread his legs with my thighs, and settle my weight on top of him .

Inside of him.

And that thought stopped me in my tracks.

I froze, and he was panting, our noses touching, his eyes scanning mine. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

I barked out a laugh. “Oh, nothing. Just moving a little fast,” I said.

“My mind. I want to do things to you I don’t think we’re ready for.

I mean, I’m ready. But holy fuck, Luke.” I put my hand to my forehead.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, and this is you.

We haven’t talked about this, and you deserve better than what I wanted to do to you just now. ”

He laughed, his cheeks flushed red, and his tongue poked out at the corner of his mouth. Then his eyes met mine, his smile lingering dangerously. “Wanna tell me what you wanted to do to me? I might want that too.”

I barked out an incredulous, embarrassed sound and buried my face in his neck, his warm, saltwater skin. His pulse thrummed against my lips. “That’s not helping. Being this close to you isn’t helping. I can taste the ocean on your skin, and fuck...”

He shivered, the skin on his throat coursing with goosebumps.

I groaned and pulled back. “Luke . . .”

He slid his hand around my neck, keeping me from going too far. His eyes, intense and blue, seared right through me. “You keep saying we haven’t talked about this, but you don’t seem to wanna tell me.”

“I don’t know,” I said, fighting my embarrassment to be honest with him. “I’ve never been with a guy. I know how things work, but...” I cringed, and he chuckled.

“You don’t know which of us will do what?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. “Yeah. If that’s even what we want? What you want?”

“I do want that,” he whispered. Then, bringing his hand to my jaw, he thumbed over my bottom lip. His eyes went to my mouth and were a shade darker when he met my gaze. “What did you want to do to me, Blake?”

“I wanted to push your legs open, and I wanted to be inside you,” I whispered, like he’d coerced the truth out of me, the words out before I could stop them.

His breath caught and his eyelids fluttered, then that damn blush on his cheeks spilled down his neck too. “Oh,” he breathed.

I pushed away from him, about to get up and walk off my shame, but he was faster. With one hand around my neck, one hand on my arm, he pulled me back to him.

Almost on top of him.