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NAVY

I don’t know what I was thinking coming here.

When King texted the group with a change of plans, claiming Bodhi needed us, I didn’t think twice and immediately agreed.

I highly doubt Bodhi outwardly asked King for help, but we know him well enough to see he’s struggling.

We’re showing up for the friend who always shows up for us.

I, however, neglected to consider the last conversation I had with Bodhi about my living situation and the tension that stretched thick between us. I’ve never felt any hate toward Bodhi before Fiji, but now, I feel a constant urge to ninja-kick him in the ball sack.

He’s the most stubborn man I’ve ever met.

Stubborn and stupidly gorgeous.

Despite the feelings I once had for him, I’m willing to bury them if it means keeping him as a friend. However, we’re doing a terrible job at building that bridge. I hope tonight brings me one step closer to having my friend back.

It’s taken the last two months to accept that Bodhi doesn’t see me as more than Callaway’s little sister, and that’s okay. I’m used to being seen as something I’m not, and I’ve found a way to live with it. I allowed Luke to spend the last fourteen years of my life controlling my every move. He told me to jump, and I asked how high.

I won’t put myself out there for someone who doesn’t want me. I’m ready to date and meet someone I can be myself with.

Without stealing another look from Bodhi, I shuffle toward the living room, where the gang patiently waits for us to join. The sharp sounds of an action movie filter through the sound system as I crawl onto the couch, which has been turned into a bed, and cozy up between Tenley and Kodi.

My eyes find Bodhi as he silently walks over and reaches for the remote to pause the movie.

We all freeze and turn our attention to the man of the hour, whether he likes it or not. I expect Kingston to speak up, but he’s wordless for once.

Bodhi intercepts the silence. “What’s going on? As happy as I am to see you guys, it’s Friday night, and a movie and popcorn are not typically in your weekend plans.”

He looks around at us, waiting for an answer. My head shoots to Tenley on my left as we silently confirm that our lips are sealed.

Callaway decides to speak. “You’re our boy, B. You stay home, we stay home. It’s as simple as that.”

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “You’re a shitty liar, Hayes”—his eyes shoot to Kingston—“and you opened your mouth.”

King’s hand finds his mouth in a fake moment of shock. “I would never.”

I fight to hold back my giggles, but the sound defies me and seeps past my lips, causing Bodhi to turn to me in question. Somehow, I laugh harder, immediately laughing my way through my defense. “Don’t look at me. I had plans to be in bed by seven.”

Bodhi’s eye roll doesn’t delay as he continues to observe us.

“Let us be here for you, man.”

Gus.

His plea stops Bodhi in his tracks. He’s never been able to accept help or grasp that he has people who care about him. Even if he does, he refuses to be a burden, or so he thinks.

Bodhi is the farthest thing from a burden.

He hides in his shell of self-torture and does the bare minimum required to live a fulfilled life, except, the way he’s been living is far from that.

I wish I knew all the details. I know it’s none of my business, but Bodhi needs to forgive himself, regardless of what happened.

Every person in this room knows he faces demons. Although there isn’t much we can do to help him with that, we can at least be here for him, even in silence, without talking about it .

Bodhi remains still, focusing on something in the distance and avoiding eye contact. Amid the silence, he says, “I don’t want to be a burden.”

My heart breaks for him. He’s kind and so very misunderstood.

No wonder he pushes everyone away.

He thinks he’s undeserving.

It doesn’t help that his witch of a mother left him right before life took a turn for the worst. He has an absent mother, a narcissistic father, and post-traumatic stress from a life-altering experience—who would have peace?

I want to hug him and tell him he’ll never be alone.

But that’s not my role in his life.

Gus stands, striding to Bodhi’s side, and throws his arm around him. “Never. Let’s watch a movie and forget the things we can’t change. There’s always tomorrow.”

That was very poetic for Gus to say.

Without giving Bodhi an option, Gus grabs the remote from his hand, presses play, and takes his seat.

It only takes a moment, but Bodhi follows, and I’m almost positive I witness the smallest of smiles sneak through.

I’d call this unexpected ambush a win.