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13

NAVY

PRESENT DAY

What an asshole.

Bodhi has a lot of nerve if he thinks I’ll sit back and let him trample all over me like some righteous prick.

I don’t answer to him, and I never will.

I’ve clarified that, but he doesn’t want to listen.

I’m not a pushover, never will be. Bodhi can fuck the hell off.

Hmm. I’m even more excited about a potential date with Briggs now.

All Bodhi did was confirm what I already knew—he’s a piece of stupid shit.

My room at the Motel 6 is ten times better than any home of his will ever be.

I had to get out of there.

The walls were closing in around me, and as annoyed as I was with Bodhi, I was slightly hurt that Tenley and Gus all but left me to fend for myself at Bodhi’s hands. I know they’re coming from a good place, but it was shitty to team up on me like they did.

I’m already dreading the conversation to come with Tenley over that. She’s one of my best friends, but that doesn’t make it right.

Thankfully, the buzz from my four whiskey sours is starting to diminish, likely due to the soul-crushing incident in the restaurant. However, I’m not confident I’m safe to drive, so I decide to hang by the curb outside and call an Uber.

There are streetlights illuminating every corner point of the walkway as people bar hop. This side of town is not known to be quiet and quaint. If you want to really experience Atlanta, visit downtown. I lean my tall frame against a brick wall at the corner of what looks to be an alleyway beside me. The alley is filled with those electric scooter rentals that transport you around town when you want to explore or need a lift.

I’ve always wanted to rent one. Not because I’m dying to see Atlanta more than I already have, but because it looks freeing. I’ve never seen someone riding one without a massive smile plastered across their face.

It feels like a must - do.

As I grab my phone from the pocket of my purse, my fingers catch on to the receipt Briggs gave me. I get a funny feeling in my stomach, I’m not quite sure if it’s butterflies, but it has me excited.

Hesitant and nervous, but excited.

It’s been a long time since Briggs and I have seen each other. He felt like a breath of fresh air and finally had my hurt heart excited about something. Little did I know he would want to date me.

But now the possibility of giving another man a chance thrills me.

I’ll always be cautious—given what happened in Fiji with Bodhi, for example.

I hold the crumbled receipt in front of me as a small smile takes over my face.

Crew Briggs: 555-618-9254

You’re more beautiful than I can remember, sailor.

“Navy.”

Shit. I crumble the receipt in my hand and quickly hold it behind my back before turning my body to find Bodhi standing outside the Boone exit doors, staring at me.

“What do you want, Bodhi?” I ask, crossing my arms at my chest.

I’m copping an attitude, and I don’t care. He deserves it. Bodhi wants me one minute, then wants me far away the next.

He gives me whiplash.

Bodhi stands at least fifteen feet away from me. Typically, I would shout to make sure he heard me loud enough, but I keep my tone light, not giving him the satisfaction of thinking I want to chat.

“You’re not going back to that motel,” he states as he moves closer to me. I slowly begin to inch backward, doing my best to get as far away from him as possible.

Except, it’s difficult, given where I am now—in an alley full of electric scooters.

My hands find my mouth in a cupping motion as I shout back at him, “Hey, Bodhi? Go fuck yourself.” If he wants to follow me out here, I’ll find somewhere else and call for a ride.

One minute, I’m turned around and briskly walking away from him. The next, I’m being catapulted in the air as strong arms wrap around my hips and shuttle me to the hidden corner of the brick alley.

My back finds the cold brick wall as Bodhi’s warm breath heats the side of my neck. “You stubborn woman,” he says. His woodsy scent and sultry voice shoot straight to my core.

Fuck, this feels familiar.

It takes my brain a second to catch up and realize what’s happening before I’m shoving at Bodhi’s chest, attempting to get him off me. “Bodhi, what the hell? Get off.”

He immediately pulls back, showing me a small part of the man I care for is still here. But he doesn’t retreat—he hovers over me so we’re no longer touching. His arms are ground into the wall on the sides of my head, and I feel frustration tumbling off him.

Bodhi would never hurt me, I’m sure of it. I know him well enough to know that he’s upset and concerned about my safety. I chose to defy what he “requested,” and it pissed him off.

Simple as that.

With Bodhi being close to six foot seven to my five foot eleven, his face clears mine by close to a foot, requiring his eyes to lower to make eye contact with me. Good grief, he has the brightest emerald green eyes I’ve ever seen. It’s like a pine tree and a gemstone made a baby. If I look close enough, which I won’t right now, I know I’ll find hidden swirls of a caramel toffee color amid the green ripples.

Bodhi’s piercing eyes hold mine. “I see what you’re doing, Navy, and it doesn’t sit well with me.”

I reply with a heavy breath, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I also don’t know why you’d think I give a single fuck what sits well with you. You’re the one who drew this line first.”

I search his face for an emotion other than agitation and come up empty. Bodhi embodies impatience at the moment. He wears his emotions on his sleeve, but for some reason, when it comes to how he genuinely feels about me, he tucks them away like a closed book.

Right now, though, I couldn’t mistake his feelings if I tried. I’ve always thought it’s because he cares so deeply that he wears his emotions freely. If Bodhi is mad, you see it. If Bodhi is happy, you see it.

He’s unable to mask it.

Strangely, I understand that.

But it still doesn’t make sense as to why he can’t admit he cares—or once cared—for me as more than a friend. Maybe not now, but I know he did in Fiji. I could feel it. Yet, he lied to me and broke my fucking heart. Those were genuine feelings. I’m sure of it.

Although I can see what he’s feeling now, it still feels like a facade. I know he’s reacting like this toward me out of something unusual to what he usually feels—something past agitation.

“You’re not staying at that shit hole.”

I settle my purse on my shoulder, still caged between his arms, and cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t remember asking you, Bodhi.”

“B. You call me B.” He exhales.

I reply, “I used to call you B. You’re Bodhi to me now.”

I hate that it’s true. B is the nickname for my friend, who I grew to care about in more ways than one—he was trusting and loving.

Bodhi is my brother’s best friend and my friend by default.

Without warning, Bodhi’s forehead falls to my shoulder, and I feel his heart rate surge through his body, his breathing working overtime to settle itself.

I sense the moment he calms down. I’m settling him.

His demons are torturing him, and apparently, now he can add me into the mix. My hands fall to my sides as my purse drops to the ground, but I don’t care. I’ll stay still until he pulls away and can recollect himself.

He seems content going shipwreck against me for now.

I don’t hate it, but I should.

“I need you safe,” he breathes against me, worry seeping from him in waves. Goosebumps spread across my body, betraying my fight against resisting him. I won’t let him see the effect he still has on me, but I will show that I care in the best way I can. My hand lightly grips his bicep by my shoulder. I hesitate to touch him—the last time not working out in my favor.

“I’m safe. You don’t need to worry,” I reassure him as I hold my hand still on his arm, fighting not to nurture him. I’m trying, but it’s fucking killing me to be this close to him after everything.

After giving him a second of my care, I drop my hand and remain stagnant.

It must have been what I said because not five seconds pass before Bodhi flings himself from the wall and grips his hair ruthlessly like he’s being thrust into a battle he’ll never win.

His affliction is transparent and he’s indifferent to me seeing it.

A part of me wonders if it’s worth it. Is it worth it for him to crucify himself every day? Again, I don’t know half of what Bodhi has been through in his life, but I know there’s a lot more to it than me.

Bodhi’s misery is evident in his stare as he looks at me head-on and shouts, “How can I not worry about you? You are rooted in my fucking soul, Navy. You’re a treasure to me, and I can’t even have you. It’s killing me inside. At least if I know you’re safe, I can rest a little easier.”

I’m livid. I’m his treasure? I don’t know what kind of treasures he keeps around, but it surely isn’t me.

If he can shout, then so can I. “If I’m such a treasure to you, Bodhi, then explain to me why you would toss me away like a disposable piece of trash?”

He dares to look shocked. Please.

“You seriously think I wanted to hurt you like that?” He charges me again and backs me up against the wall once more with his body and face inches from mine. “I’d rather never hold a baseball again if it meant not hurting you the way that I did.”

A baffled laugh escapes me. “Could have fooled me.”

“Either way, I refuse to lose you as a friend, Navy. I know I don’t deserve it, but I want it,” Bodhi admits.

I expected this and won’t make a big deal about it. That would be too easy for him. “Friends by default, got it. Are we done here?”

A wicked smirk comes across his face. “Not even close.”

My focus on Bodhi is interrupted when I feel cold metal on the palm of my hand. I don’t have a chance to look down and see what it is before Bodhi holds up the crinkled receipt I forgot I was gripping tightly.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks.

Oh, now he’s playing dumb. “It’s a receipt. What does it look like? Give it back.” He holds the receipt in front of him like the sight alone burns him.

“Trust me, I’m aware it’s a receipt. What I’m wondering is, why the hell do you still have it?”

Excuse me? Does he think he gets a say in whose number I keep?

The second Bodhi had a chance to taste my goods, he thought he could claim ownership over my actions. Well, he thought wrong. “Because I intend to use it, you son of a bitch,” I snap back.

A loud laugh erupts from his mouth, and if I didn’t know him, I’d be worried about the deranged sound. “Strike one.”

I laugh out of spite. “Strike one? Bodhi, just move so I can leave.”

I glance at the metal in my palm and find a set of silver keys connected to a circular ring. “Trash the number,” he commands.

I laugh nonchalantly before maneuvering myself away from him since he seems too distracted to move. “Nah. It’s been forever since Briggs and I have reconnected . Could be fun,” I tease him.

I hope it stings.

Bodhi’s chest rises and falls with heavy breaths. It’s useless to pretend I’m not looking at him. He’s hard to miss. I’m not sure any woman could miss a larger-than-life man, staked out in a dark alleyway, covered in black and leather—and don’t forget looks that could kill.

Dreamiest red flag known to man .

“He’s not good enough for you,” Bodhi admits with a deep sigh.

Ha! “Oh, but you are?” An eye roll from him is all I get.

“Definitely not.”

At least we can agree on something. As much as I hate him for what he did to me, I hate that he believes this about himself even more.

If only he could see what I do.

The nerve of this man. I ignore the part where Bodhi thinks he can control who I date, too, and I rethink the room offer, because why not.

I’m pissed at him, and this sounds like a great way to piss him off and have a safe place to stay. I’d never admit to him how disturbing the motel actually is.

I could have worse options than his house.

Thankfully, my friends live there as well.

As much as I’ve been enjoying my independence at the Motel 6, the sound of a clean room and bathroom sounds glorious. If this were a situation where I was considering a place to stay with Bodhi alone, that would be a hard pass. But with the other guys who are legitimately like my family, I can suffer Bodhi’s silent wrath for comfortable living—also saving money.

I walk backward and spot Uber drivers parked on the side of the road, waiting to give someone a ride before I call out to him, “Thanks for the keys, roomie.”

Despite his frustration at me, a full grin greets me from the distance as he nods. “That was strike one, Navy. Don’t forget, I’m a catcher, and we never lose count.”

I don’t know what that means, but it can’t be good.

Is this now becoming a game?

I lied about where I was staying and told him I was planning to date Briggs. But strike one?

What happens when I get to three? Is this a game either of us can win?