Page 7

EMILY

A fter ending the call, I took a lightning-speed shower and threw on a cute gray jumpsuit, pairing it with a little jean jacket, new from Mama’s boutique. The fitted material of the jumpsuit hugged my curves, and the low-cut neckline was definitely on the flirty side. Maybe this should’ve been left in the juniors' section.

I eyed myself in the mirror, debating for half a second before I saw Cody’s truck pulling up outside. Time ran out for second-guessing my outfit. I grabbed my crew socks, scrunched them just right, and slipped on my high-top sneakers.

When I stepped outside, Cody’s gaze swept over me, lingering just long enough to send a warm pulse through my stomach.

“You look so good.” His voice had that low, appreciative rasp that sent heat curling through me.

“Thank you.” I patted Max’s head as I climbed into the truck, letting the compliment settle in my chest. “I was trying to do an early ’90s look since we’re going to an arcade.”

“Nailed it.”

Cody’s eyes flicked downward for a brief second, catching on the neckline of my jumpsuit. I bit my lip, pretending not to notice, though I definitely noticed. That small glance sent a thrill through me, like a secret between us neither of us had said out loud yet.

As we pulled up to the arcade, I was hit with a wave of nostalgia. The place was buzzing with neon lights, the flashing glow of game screens illuminating the faces of kids and adults alike. The sounds of classic 8-bit music, beeping buttons, and the occasional victory cheer filled the air. Groups huddled around pinball machines, teenagers were furiously mashing buttons at a side-scrolling beat-’em-up, and somewhere in the back, the familiar chime of Pac-Man gobbling pellets played on repeat.

Cody leaned in slightly, his voice low near my ear. “Glad people are focused on their games and not on us as much.”

I inhaled, catching the scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh, clean smell of his clothes. It was subtle, warm, comforting, and yet dangerous in the way it made me want to lean in just a little closer.

I turned toward the nearest fighting game, a vintage setup with big, colorful buttons and joysticks that had clearly seen years of intense battles. Tossing Cody a playful look, I hit the start button. “Ready to surrender to the new queen of the ring, champ?”

Cody cracked his knuckles, his mouth tilting into a slow grin. “You’re cute when you talk big.”

I scoffed, waiting for the machine to load. “We’ll see who’s talking big when I wipe the floor with you.”

He chuckled, stepping up to the Player 2 platform beside me. “Just remember. No hard feelings when you lose.”

I arched a brow. “Oh, you’re going down.”

The game screen flashed, and our little challenge began. As much as I wanted to focus on the game, I couldn’t ignore the way my heart raced, not from competition, but from the way Cody was watching me.

Bright colors danced across the screen. Our characters lunging at each other in a flurry of punches and kicks. I gripped the joystick, my competitive spirit ignited.

“Let’s see what you’ve got, queen of the ring.” Cody laughed.

With a determined flick of my wrist, I executed a series of combos, each hit echoing with a satisfying thud. My character was quick, darting around the screen while I shouted out victory taunts. “You’re going to need more than that to beat me!”

He was no slouch. I felt the pressure as he began to rally, his character countering my moves. The arcade noises faded into a backdrop, and it felt like it was just the two of us, our laughter and banter, and the thrill of the game connecting us.

“Ha! Gotcha.” I squealed as my character landed a critical hit.

He groaned, mock despair etched across his face. “Beginner’s luck. I’m just letting you have this one.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” I grinned, caught up in the fun, even as a flutter of anticipation danced in my stomach.

After a few more rounds, I was done, my cheeks flushed. I glanced at Cody, who was grinning ear to ear, clearly enjoying himself. “Okay, okay, you’re better than I expected,” he admitted, leaning back against the machine.

After our rounds of fighting games, we made our way over to Space Invaders. Our score was a tie. Then we headed to the pinball machines, the bright lights flashing as we took turns racking up points. My competitive side surged once again, and I found myself giggling and squealing as I pulled the flippers, each successful shot sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

“C’mon, Em, you’re killing me.” He shook his head in mock defeat as I scored another jackpot.

“I think you’re just being nice,” I teased.

He hooded his eyes, his expression light. “Me, nice? I’m just letting you have your moment of glory.”

As the game concluded and I racked up the highest score, I couldn’t help but boast. “What did I tell you? Queen of the ring! I mean, Queen of Pinball.”

He threw his hands in playful surrender. “You got me. Next time, I’ll actually try.”

We stepped away from the game, and I realized I was starting to feel a gnawing hunger in my stomach. “So, what are we doing for food?” I asked, stretching slightly as I glanced around the arcade.

Cody looked thoughtful. “There’s this Thai place I like. They’ve got great pad see ew and spring rolls.”

“Sounds good,” I replied, but then hesitated. “Would you mind if we do takeout instead? I just want to decompress away from people and their phones.”

He nodded, understanding written all over his face. “Yeah, I get that. Let’s head to my place.”

As we walked toward the exit, the fresh air hit me like a welcome wave, and I felt lighter, freer. This outing had been exactly what I needed.

Once in the truck, I glanced over at him, surprised by how comfortable this all felt. “Thanks for today. It’s been nice.”

He shot me a genuine smile, one that reached his eyes. “Anytime. I enjoyed it.”

We got our takeout and proceeded to his place. Cody’s house was exactly what I expected: neat, buttoned-up, but still lived-in. The living room was simple but comfortable, decorated in neutral tones with subtle touches that reflected his personality. A few framed fight posters lined one wall, while a sleek leather sectional took up most of the space, looking as inviting as it was well-worn.

I took in the details as I walked further inside, my gaze drifting toward the fireplace mantel. The framed photos caught my attention first. They were snapshots of Cody’s past, frozen in time. One showed him in uniform, standing tall and proud, his sharp features serious but confident. Another was of him with his team, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, their grins easy despite the rugged setting. My fingers hovered near the frames, tracing the edge of the glass.

Cody stepped up beside me and handed me a cherry soda, one of those pseudo-healthy ones that promised the world in a tiny aluminum can. “You ordered this back at that Italian place. Figured I’d try it myself.”

I accepted it from him. “Did you like it?”

“Too sweet, but I'm glad I still had it in the fridge.” His voice grew quieter as he saw the picture I looked at. “That was my first deployment.” His hand brushed against the small of my back, resting there as he pointed to another picture. The simple contact sent a ripple of awareness through me.

“And this one?” I asked, pointing to a photo of a much younger Cody. He stood beside a broad-shouldered man I assumed was his uncle, along with another guy in boxing gear.

“My uncle and his best friend, one of the first boxers he ever trained. I was just a kid, but I was obsessed with it. Spent every weekend in the gym, watching and learning.”

I smiled, appreciating these glimpses into his past. He wasn’t the type to volunteer information easily, so the fact that he was sharing this with me made my stomach flutter.

It growled, too. Loud enough for anyone within ten feet to hear. Max’s ears perked at the sound from where he rested on the floor beside the sectional. “Oops.” I gave a sheepish grin. “Guess my stomach is talking louder than I am.”

Cody gave my back a gentle pat before stepping away. “I’ll grab some silverware so we can eat. No way am I embarrassing myself trying to eat with chopsticks.”

I chuckled as he disappeared into the kitchen. Smiling, I moved toward the couch and sank onto the leather, stretching out. The softness against my back was instantly relaxing, a contrast to the stiff chairs I was used to sitting in at work. Before I could get too comfortable, Max hopped up beside me, resting his head on my thigh like we’d been best friends forever.

I stroked his head, scratching behind his ears. “Cody’s a good guy,” I confided. “And you’re a good doggie, aren’t you?”

As if he understood me, Max made a pleased little noise.

Cody returned just in time to hear it. “Don’t spoil him. He already thinks he’s a person.”

At that, Max let out a dramatic sigh and hopped off the couch, heading down the hall toward his food and water, leaving Cody and me alone.

We ate in comfortable silence for a few moments, the only sound the occasional clink of a fork or the rustle of takeout containers.

“This is good,” I finally said, biting into a spring roll. “Especially the spring rolls.”

Cody nodded, chewing his food with satisfaction. “The pad see ew is perfect.”

I twirled my chopsticks in my fingers, glancing at him. “I promise I wasn’t trying to get you to invite me to your place.” My voice felt small, a little uncertain. “But I’m glad you did. I mean, it’s nice we don’t have cameras in our faces now.”

Cody laughed, the deep, warm sound easing some of my nervousness. “I know what you meant. I like spending time with you. I like it more when I don’t have to share you with the media.”

The words sent a flutter through me. Undeniable warmth settled low in my stomach, and it had nothing to do with the spiciness of the meal. I met his gaze, and for the first time all night, I found myself a little breathless.

I set my chopsticks down. “I want to be honest...”

“I should tell you...” he said at the exact same time.

We both paused, then laughed.

“Ladies first.” He gestured toward me, his eyes steady, waiting.

I took a sip of my cherry soda to buy myself a second. My fingers tightened around the can as I finally forced the words out. “I know this is a whole fake relationship we created to fool my ex and to generate publicity for Family Day... but I kind of like it.” My voice wavered. “Maybe a little too much.”

Cody tilted his head, studying me. “What do you mean?”

I bit my lip, then met his gaze. “I like it when you kiss me. I wish it was for real.”

“They are real.”

“Yeah, but the whole thing.” My face heated, and I instinctively lifted my hand to partially cover it. “Sorry.”

Cody reached out, gently uncovering my face with his fingers, his touch warm against my skin. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

Tears pricked at the edges of my eyes, and I tried to blink them away, but one slipped free. I hurried to wipe it, but Cody beat me to it, his thumb brushing the tear away before it could fall.

My throat tightened, but I pushed through. “It’s when you do little things like that to comfort me. Or when you encourage me, and you sound rough, but you’re actually kind and gentle. I like you, Cody.” My voice dropped to barely above a whisper. “You turn me on. For real.”

There were a few beats of quiet, his gaze unwavering, before he finally spoke. “I like you too, Em. For real.”

A surprised laugh bubbled out of me, half relieved, half overwhelmed. “How are you this sweet?”

Cody’s lips arranged in a small smile. “Most people wouldn’t use that word to describe me.”

“They don’t know the other sides of you. You actually listen.”

“I like listening to you.”

I blinked up at him, warmth blooming deep in my chest. “You’ve been through a lot, but you didn’t let it make you an asshole.”

Cody pretended to measure the weight of my words. “Oh, I’m sure Liam and Ryder would tell you different when I’m coaching them.”

I laughed, playfully touching his knee. “Stop. You get what I mean. I like a man who’s careful with his actions and words.”

His expression turned more serious. His hand slid over mine, holding it gently. “I love being around you. I can show you better than I can tell you.”