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NAVY

Bodhi said he would be right back, but I don’t see him anywhere.

I search the bar area for him without seeming like a clingy girlfriend.

No sign.

I check the hallway leading to the restrooms. Nothing. There are five people maximum on the dance floor, and none of them take up the whole damn floor like Bodhi would.

Suddenly he emerges, and what a sight he is.

A wide and possibly the cheesiest grin I’ve ever grinned spreads across my cheeks, and I know I’ll feel the pain from it tomorrow.

I’ll gladly accept it if it gives me this.

This version of Bodhi in front of me.

It’s so unlike him, and that makes it even better because I know he did it for me.

The reformed hermit is now an eccentric spirit, and he matches my vibe perfectly.

“What in the actual fuck?” I hear Cal call out behind me, but I don’t turn around. My feet move in the direction of the man across the room, fumbling through his attempt at salsa dancing.

I’d bet he’s never danced a day in his life, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen.

Similar to the newly transformed suit Bodhi is wearing.

His outfit now has heads turning, similar to how people are looking at me, and the smirk on his face tells me he doesn’t give a single shit.

He wants it that way.

His eyes are on me as “Como La Flor” by Selena plays at an ungodly decibel from the DJ booth, bringing everyone in the room to a halt.

Coming closer and closer to me is the man my heart sings for.

His suit jacket is long forgotten. His white button-down shirt is unbuttoned, revealing the tan abs I dream about licking. His pants are rolled at the bottom, creating high waters. His once neatly done tie wraps around his forehead like a bandanna, and his hair is in a sexy disarray.

Here’s the best part: Yellow, black, and white icing is smeared all over his body—across every square inch of him. He looks like an edible painting of chaos and the product of destruction.

He’s a mess, but he’s my mess.

I all but run to him as his dancing pauses to greet me with his newly improved self.

He did this for me.

“Let’s go, terremoto. Want to cause a scene together?”

“You bet, catcher.”

I’m a spill of uncontrollable giggles as Bodhi grabs my hand and pulls me to the dance floor.

“An outfit change and salsa dancing? I’m a lucky girl,” I tell him, smiling big.

His energetic footwork impresses me as he spins my body fluidly. “It’s just you and me now, baby girl.”

The magnitude of his small acts makes that one big mistake seem so small in comparison.

I know I’ve caused quite the spectacle tonight. Would I typically wear this? No, but it felt good to do something unexpected and not worry about what anyone would think.

Ultimately, I did it to piss Bodhi off, but now that I think about it, it was for me too.

It feels good to not look so perfect—what everyone expects from you.

Bodhi and I are the only ones dancing and it’s now my favorite place. Unapologetically ourselves with each other and the rest fading in the background.

“I love this song. Selena was my idol growing up.”

“I know, you told me once,” Bodhi tells me confidently mid-turn.

The music flows through the rhythm of our bodies, and I feel closer than I ever have to him.

There’s something much more intimate in a loving gesture that shows you see someone and will stand beside them through the lowest of lows—more intimate than even a kiss.

“How do you remember that?” I giggle, spinning myself into him.

My hands find his shoulders as our eyes lock, and Bodhi doesn’t let me go this time. “When are you going to realize that I’m not as bad as I seem?”

I stop my movements and think about his question before answering, “You’ve never been bad to me, Bodhi.”

“Then what would you call me?”

I don’t hesitate. “Untouchable.”

I don’t think I shock him with my answer, but more so confirm what he already knew. Bodhi has always been untouchable.

Forbidden fruit, if you will. My brother’s best friend.

Tortured and closed off.

But he’s also always been kind and caring, showing up for me no matter the time of day.

“I don’t disagree. I’ve been working on that, though.”

There’s a fine line between right and wrong when you’re in love. The lines blur, and all the mumbled bullshit of why the one you love is wrong for you should be forgiven.

There’s no black and white.

It’s all gray.

We excuse the inexcusable and we love the unlovable.

That’s the beauty of loving without conditions.

“I know you have,” I tell Bodhi.

He twirls me again as the song changes to “Oye Como Va” by Santana, and my grin returns.

Latin music is my favorite tune to dance to. Bodhi and I continue our lively dance while the Strikers team finally joins us, and the energy is contagious.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Kingston sings out, shaking his ass in circles.

“My milkshake is about to bring all the girls to the yard,” Gus hollers over the music, forgetting all about his date entirely.

“Wrong genre, dipshit,” King says.

Cal swoops in to steal me from Bodhi, not asking, only telling, per usual for my brother.

“What up, big brother?” I ask him as Cal cradles me to him while we dance to the beat of the music.

“You good?” he asks in my ear.

“Mhm. Great.”

“I’m not an idiot, Navy.” What is he talking about? Did he see us kissing?

I gulp. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen how cruel people have been tonight. Gus saw what happened with Jared and told me Bodhi put him in his place. I need to remember to thank him for that later.”

“Yeah, well, Jared had it coming for him.”

Cal nods, spinning me in a fluid motion before bringing me back to him.

“So tell me, what’s with the dress?” He holds up his hands in surrender. “Hey, no judgment, but this is the least Navy dress I’ve ever seen—the whole outfit, really.”

I smack his arm playfully. “I was…gifted a dress. I just didn’t want to wear it.”

Cal’s brows raise in question. “From who? Bodhi?”

I nod, and Cal responds, “No shit. Who knew he had it in him?”

“Not me. But I refused to wear it just to spite him. It worked.” I laugh.

“He’s changed, Navy.” He says it without hesitation, like it’s the truest thing. It is.

Bodhi has changed.

“He’s in therapy,” I tell Cal, thinking he already knows.

Cal stops in the middle of our dance. “What? Since when?”

I think back in time. “I don’t know. Since before I moved in, I guess. He told me randomly one day, but I don’t think he knows I heard it or remember. We haven’t talked about it since.”

“Shit. We talked about it, but I had no idea he had found someone. I’m so fucking proud of him,” Cal says with pride, rubbing the scruff of his beard and turning to steal a glance at Bodhi dancing with an older woman.

“He’s dancing with Mikey’s mom,” Cal says, turning back to face me.

I smile, my sights still on Bodhi across the room, watching as he laughs with the sixty-year-old woman having the time of her life.

“You love him, don’t you?”

“What?” I answer in a daze.

“You heard me,” Cal says.

“It depends.”

“Depends on what?”

I smile, finally looking at my brother. “He only gets Navy, the friend, until he decides to be a man and tell me how he really feels.”

I love him.

Yet, waiting on him feels like forever, and I’m due for some affirmations and dirty fucking. In that order.

Kodi dances up to us, shaking her hips and grinning from ear to ear. “I haven’t had this much fun in years,” she says.

Cal wraps his arm around her. “Me either, angel.”

Letting Cal’s words sink in, I leave the happy couple and make my way over to the rest of our friends with plans to dance the night away.

Bodhi’s lively smile calls me to him as I get lost in the mix of salsa dancing and Gus’s club grinding.

Bodhi pulls me toward him and leans forward, whispering, “Next time you plan to cause chaos by choice, you call me, and we do it together. Deal?”

I nod. “Deal.”

Letting the music take over, I don’t just wear the dress; I let the dress wear me, shape me, and be the reason I laugh more than I have in ages.

It seems my outfit was a great choice, after all.