Page 32 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

When he stood up and went inside, I lay there on the lounge chair, staring at the sky, the sound of the waves crashing, voices in the distance of people walking along the beach. Everything was so close to perfect.

I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want this to ever end.

I knew the truth was more that I didn’t want to go back and face reality. The bubble we had here was all I ever wanted.

I hadn’t looked at my phone in days. I hadn’t seen social media, I hadn’t seen the news, and there was much to be said about ignoring the bullshit.

It was so easy to get caught up in the hype, the thrill of fame, and all that went with it.

Stepping out of the spotlight had been the right thing to do.

I just . . . I just . . .

I didn’t know what.

“Here,” Luke said, sliding a tray onto the small table between our chairs so it was closer to me before he went back inside. It was filled with chips and salsa, sliced mango, cheese and crackers, and bottles of water .

“Oh wow,” I said, loud enough for him to hear. “This is awesome, thank you.”

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was.

I had a face full of food when he came back out with his guitar, notebook, with ‘songs and whatever’ scrawled across the front, and his phone.

He laughed at me. “Is it good?”

“Hmfo mffmhd.” I chewed and swallowed. “So good, thank you. That’s the best mango I’ve ever tasted.”

He planted himself on his lounge chair and threw some cheese and crackers in his mouth. “I found my phone,” he mumbled as he chewed. “Charged it before we went to the hospital.”

Ugh.

“Ten million missed calls and messages?”

He groaned. “Yep.” Then went for the salsa and chips and began swiping through notifications. “Not important, not important...”

“None of them are,” I said. “Our folks know where we are and that we’re okay. That’s all that really matters. Everyone else can wait.”

The flicker of his eyebrow told me he didn’t entirely agree with me on that, but he didn’t argue. He licked the corn chip dust off his finger and thumb before he swiped some more, and damn, if seeing his lips around his thumb sent me straight back to this morning in the bathroom...

I groaned and ate some cheese, and then Luke put the water bottle to his lips and gulped, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down, and dear god...

“Have you always been so fucking hot?” I asked.

His eyes shot to mine. “What?”

“Your lips, your throat,” I said, shaking my head. “What the fuck, dude?”

He snorted and turned his phone around to show me the screen. “I could say the same about this photo. Like, what the fuck, dude?”

It was a photo of me when I’d gone to the music shop to buy the turntable.

“You look terrible,” he said with a laugh. “Jesus.”

“I was dying inside, remember? My best friend left me, I’d been drunk for I don’t know how many days, everyone had left me, and because I hadn’t connected the dots yet on why my heart felt so broken, I decided that I needed a record player.”

“Is that the hoodie you were wearing when you got here?”

I sighed. “I. Was. Dying.”

He seemed to find that amusing. “Want me to read the article to you?”

“There’s a whole article?”

He chuckled and began to read it, whether I wanted to hear it or not. “‘A rare sighting of Blake Acosta recently when he was spotted buying a record player. Fans noted that he looked pale and was quiet but polite as two fans helped him carry his purchases to his car. He posed for a photo.’”

Luke turned his screen around again to show me the pic of me and the two girls who had helped me.

“You let random strangers help you carry stuff to your car?”

I sighed. “They were very nice and not crazy. They kept their distance and asked for a photo before I left. But yes, please remind me how pathetic I was by myself with no friends.”

Luke snorted and kept reading. “‘There has been much speculation since his gaunt appearance at the same time that his best friend and bandmate Luke Dougherty’s recent split from his girlfriend’ blah-blah-blah—” He skimmed that part.

“—‘and Blake’s rumored split from his girlfriend...’” His eyes met mine. “Your gaunt appearance.”

“Dying inside, remember? ”

He grinned. “Oh, here’s another one: ‘After fans posted a photograph of Luke Dougherty on a beach in Mexico, Blake Acosta was spotted at Tom Bradley International Airport.’” He laughed. “Same hoodie.”

“Yes, because it was only after fans posted pics of you on this here very beach that I knew where you were because you didn’t tell me.”

“‘Is Bluke alive?’” Luke laughed, still reading the stupid online shit and ignoring me. “‘Fans claim Bluke is really real.’”

“Are you having fun over there?” I asked. “My life was so much better just ten minutes ago, pretending that social media didn’t exist.”

He scrolled some more and his smile died. “Well, fuck.”

“What is it? Fanfiction of us getting married on the beach? How are the Photoshop edits? Is it a shotgun wedding? Am I pregnant?”

“Jeremy just sent me a link.” He turned the phone around to show me the screen. It was a pic taken of us today outside the hospital of Luke helping me with my bandaged knee.

Fuck.

“‘Bluke: old injuries, new love.’”

“For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled. “And there I was thinking we were immune to that bullshit here. I didn’t even see anyone taking photos. And who the fuck writes shit like that?”

“‘Blake Acosta and Luke Dougherty were seen at a hospital in Mexico today and later leaving on a moped. Blake was seen limping heavily, his knee bandaged. Luke was driving. Both looked relaxed and are reportedly staying in the area for an undisclosed length of time. They were spotted at a bar the night before, drinking beers and laughing, before leaving together.’”

I rolled my eyes. “Before leaving together. Jesus Christ. I think I prefer the photo where I was gaunt and miserable. ”

He zoomed in on the photos. “It’s actually a great photo of us on the moped.”

He turned to show me again, and he was right. We did look happy.

“So Jeremy sent that?”

He nodded. “And a text.”

Is Blake okay? He hurt his knee again? He’s not answering his phone. Like you’re not answering yours. Becca told us he found you. Pics of you and him are everywhere. If things get crazy and you need security, let us know asap

Luke gave me a sad smile. “I kinda feel bad for bailing.”

“I don’t,” I replied. “Anyway, the security thing is all Steve. Not Jeremy.”

Then his phone beeped again.

Luke read the text out loud. “‘We need to talk. All of us.’” Then he frowned at me, his face so freaking sad, and I hated it.

His phone beeped again.

Hey asshole, I can see you read this message

I snorted. “ That’s Jeremy.”

Luke laughed and thumbed his screen, hitting Call, I realized, and put the phone to his ear. “Hey, asshole, nice to speak to you too.”

I couldn’t quite hear what Jeremy was saying, just the familiar murmur of his voice. But I liked the way Luke smiled.

“Yeah, he’s here... His knee’s okay, had an injection, and needs to rest it... Uh, yeah, things here are good.” Then he laughed and blushed, his eyes meeting mine. “You could say that. No, he walked the beach asking every person he saw if they’d seen me.”

I nodded. “Damn right I did.”

“Yeah, look, I don’t know when we’ll be back. Blake’s off his knee for a couple of days at least.”

Days?

He was thinking we were only going to be here for a few more days?

I was thinking weeks or months. Or never going back at all.

But days?

Luke seemed to read my face because he shook his head. “Yeah, we’ll see,” he said into the phone. “I agree. We do all need to talk.”

I rolled my eyes.

I’d already said all I had to say.

Jeremy did some talking, apparently, and the more he talked, the more Luke smiled at me. “Yeah. He told me... I know.” Then he giggled. Actually fucking giggled. “He is... Okay, adios.”

I stared at him. “You okay there? You were talking about me, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

I sighed. I wasn’t mad at Jeremy. Well, maybe a little. “What did he have to say?”

“He wanted to know if you were okay. Said you weren’t doing too well when I wasn’t there.”

I lifted my finger, pointing to his phone. “Gaunt and dying inside, remember? We’ve been through this.”

“He used the word abysmal.”

“Ouch.” Then I shrugged. “It’s probably fair.”

Luke chuckled but it faded. “He said he was sorry and that we all needed to talk. He feels bad, Blake. And he’s happy that you finally figured it out.”

I shot him a look. “Figured what out? ”

“Well, his words were ‘I’m glad he’s pulled his head out of his ass’ but I was paraphrasing.”

Oh.

“Yes, I know,” I whined. “I’m an idiot, a dumbass, and I’m blind. But I know now, and that’s what matters.”

Luke stood up, dumped his phone on the lounge chair, leaned down, and kissed me. “Correct,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re here now. I still feel like I need to pinch myself.”

“I can do it for you,” I said, reaching up and pinching his nipple.

“Ow. Uncalled for, asswipe.”

I snorted. “Aww, I’ve missed you calling me names.”

He flicked the top of my head, which hurt. “And I’ve missed doing that.”

I rubbed my head. “Ow.”

He laughed as he walked inside. “Need anything while I’m in here?”

“Uh, my phone. If you can find it.”

I sighed happily, letting my head fall back on the lounge chair and closing my eyes. After a few minutes, I could hear Luke in the kitchen, so I figured he could hear me.

“Did you mean what you told Jeremy?” I called out. “That we were only staying here for a couple more days?”

“Hmm, I dunno,” he replied, walking out with two more bottles of water. He handed me one, along with my phone. “He said he wants us all to talk, but I didn’t want to commit to anything without discussing it with you.”

I scowled at the ocean, not at him. “Yeah, I dunno.”

Luke was quiet and I knew exactly what he was going to say. I still wasn’t up for hearing it.