Page 5 of Code Word (The Atrous #3)

Eventually, my stomach won. “Shit,” I said, pretending to have just remembered something. “I better go check that the fire in the cabin hasn’t gone out.” I put his guitar down and stood up. “I’ll make a start on dinner. Don’t stay out here too long. It’s getting cold.”

I gave his shoulder a squeeze before I left him to it.

It was gray and getting dark outside, the ground already crunching under my feet with frost. I shivered, pulling my coat up as I skipped up the steps to the cabin. The fire was almost out, and I was glad I’d made the call about coming in early.

Plus, I needed to feed Luke as well. Maybe with a full belly and a warm cabin, he’d get some better sleep. Especially if he was sharing a bed with me.. .

I saved the fire first, then threw together a pot of sausage, onion, tomato, and pasta, kinda hoping for the best.

“Something smells good,” Luke said, coming inside maybe thirty minutes later.

It was well and truly dark out now, and his nose and ears were red, his cheeks flushed pink as he warmed his hands by the fire. It would strike me at random times like this just how good-looking he was, despite how tired he was, and it was easy to see why fans and photographers loved him.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, stirring the pot. “It’s almost done. Did you close the barn?”

“Yes, Dad.”

I snorted. “Fuck off.”

That earned me half a smile. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Grab some plates? Maybe a beer?”

He brushed in past me—the problem of a tiny kitchen—and poked me in the ribs, making me jump.

“Oof,” I barked. Fucker knew just where to stab me to get me to flinch like that.

“Gonna give me a back injury one day if you keep doing that. And you’ll be waiting on me hand and foot as punishment. I will be insufferable.”

He chuckled, not fazed at all, and pulled two beers from the fridge. He popped the tops and handed me one before taking a long pull from his own, then produced two plates and put them beside the small stovetop. “Like you were when you had your knee done?”

“I wasn’t insufferable. And you loved the excuse to play Call of Duty with me for fifteen hours a day.”

He smirked. “Until I beat your ass and you tried to tackle me off the couch, forgetting your knee was fucked, and almost had to have it operated on again.”

I laughed. “And your mom threatened to confiscate my PS5 until we promised to play nicely. We were twenty-seven years old and she had to pull the mom card. ”

He chuckled as he took a swig from his beer. “How is your knee, by the way? I keep forgetting to ask.”

I lifted my knee a few times like some dumbass robot. “It’s as good as it’ll ever be.” Which, admittedly, wasn’t great. “I need to start swimming again when we get home.”

His eyes flicked to mine before he looked away and swallowed hard. He cleared his throat and did that fake smile again. “So, dinner...”

“Right,” I said, turning around and quickly dishing up two plates.

Why was I so relieved for the distraction? I wanted him to talk to me, but part of me was dreading what he’d say.

We ate in silence, standing in the tiny kitchenette, me leaning against the counter, Luke against the fridge.

“This is good,” he said, his plate almost empty.

“There’s more if you want. I thought it’d make a good breakfast so I made enough, but you can have it now if you want?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

I finished mine and put the plate in the sink, washing it down with a mouthful of beer, let out a monster belch, and patted my belly. “Much better.”

He laughed, made a face, and gave me a shove. “Feral. Leave the dishes,” he said. “I’ll clean up.”

“Okay. I’ll go take a shower.”

“Good, because you stink.”

I sniffed my armpit. “I do not,” I said, giving him a shove as I walked out.

He smiled, a real smile this time.

His old smile. My Luke’s smile.

It made me happier than it should have. I just hoped we could keep up the mood, no more awkwardness, no more tension.

No such luck.

I came out from the shower, hair still wet, wearing my long gray sleep-pants and a blue long-sleeve T-shirt. It was old and soft, kinda faded now, but I loved it.

I bent down by the fire, stoked it before throwing on another log. I went to ask Luke if he wanted another beer, but he was gone, the bathroom door closing behind him.

Right, then.

I grabbed myself another beer, parked my ass on the couch, and picked up a book from the side table.

The thing about these cabins was that they were built for us to unwind, to escape the constant barrage of media, and to just be ourselves without the outside world.

But that also meant no TV, no internet. We could use phones in the barn—only for Wes’s benefit with the baby—but there was nothing else but us and silence.

And that silence was starting to get a little loud.

There was no escaping us .

There was nowhere to hide from the gaping hole between us. Nothing to fill the void.

Just us. Luke and me and a whopping big fucking elephant in the room neither one of us could look in the eye.

That easiness between us was gone.

And I didn’t know what scared me the most: that he was the one letting go or that I didn’t know how to stop him.

It was an awful, horrible, no-good feeling.

“Hey,” Luke said from the bedroom door, startling me. He pointed his thumb to the bed. “I’m gonna crash. I’m really fucking beat.”

“Okay,” I said, standing up. “Lemme just fix the fire.”

He seemed confused by this for a split second, until he realized that I meant I’d join him. “Oh, you don’t... I mean, you can stay out here, I didn’t mean you had to...”

I showed him the book I wasn’t even reading. “I can read in there; it’s fine.”

He blinked and I could have sworn he frowned before he turned and disappeared into the bedroom. “You still sleep on the left, right?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

I fixed the fire and turned the lights off, and then I stubbed my toe on the bed frame. “Ow. Motherfucker.”

Luke’s quiet chuckle kinda made it worth it. I sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my poor little toe. “It’s not broken. Thanks for the sympathy though.”

He snorted quietly. “You’re welcome.”

I switched on the lamp on the side table, making him groan in protest as he pulled his pillow over his face.

“You’re welcome,” I replied, propping up my pillow at my back and opening the book.

Luke sighed and resettled his pillow. “Well, if you’re gonna keep me awake, you may as well read it out loud to me.”

I froze, because what the fuck? “You want me to read to you?”

“Mm.” He closed his eyes. “Start at page one.”

Okay then.

I opened the book to page one.

“What’s it about, anyway?” he asked quietly.

“Some government agency spy shit at some Arctic base.”

“Oh, good. Some government agency spy shit at some Arctic base is my favorite genre.”

I snorted and began reading.

He was sound asleep by page three.

I watched him for a minute or two, his sleeping face, the dark circles under his eyes, his eyelids, his eyelashes, the way his lips parted. He looked peaceful, at least, and if he needed me to read him this stupid book so he could sleep, then I’d do exactly that.

I had to wonder what was going on inside his head. What troubles he couldn’t tell me .

And I tried to think back to when something changed. When did things start to change?

I knew the answer. I didn’t really want to admit it, but I knew...

Becca.

When I began dating his sister.

When I began spending time with her. He’d said he was okay with it, but in hindsight, he’d only said that because it was what we wanted to hear.

The truth was: things between Bec and me weren’t great.

The week away with her had brought that to light. Would ending things with her make this issue with Luke better or worse? Would things go back to how they were?

I wasn’t sure we could.

With a heavy sigh, I slid the book onto the bedside table, shuffled down the bed, and pulled my pillow under my head.

Luke stirred, mumbling something that sounded a lot like my name, and then moved over and slid his arm over my chest.

Damn.

We’d shared a bed a thousand times, and he’d always been a cuddler. So I pulled him in closer, reached over, and turned the lamp off. The room cast into a peaceful darkness, and I’d be lying if I said the body warmth wasn’t nice.

I pulled the covers up around his shoulders and he snuggled in closer, his head now in the crook of my arm, muttering in his sleep.

Then he threw his leg over mine and I tightened my arm around him.

This was us. This was who we’d always been.

We’d always been touchy-feely with each other.

Physical touch between us was normal. Hell, it was even comforting for me.

I loved it when he sat on me or slung his arm around my shoulder.

He made me feel a kind of peace I couldn’t explain.

He felt like home.

I sighed into his hair, and closed my eyes.

I woke up alone.