Too Hard: Chapter 29

WITH A POUNDING HEART, I inhale a deep breath before dialing my father’s number. It rings once, twice, and the call drops. My stomach twists with dread when my screen lights up with a message.

Dad: on holiday. Back Friday.

Not what I was hoping for. We need to talk before Cody comes back. I don’t have a plan yet, but Dad being away is not the worst thing. It gives me time to take the first steps into a life without Gideon Fitzpatrick’s support.

Me: It’s important. We need to talk.

I hit send, give him a minute to read it, then call again. This time, the phone doesn’t even ring. Instead, I’m greeted with his voicemail. “You’ve reached Gideon Fitzpatrick. I’m unavailable at the moment. Please leave a message.” I hang up before the beep, frustration and relief filling my jittery mind.

Maybe it’s for the best. It gives me a few days to gather my thoughts and steel myself for the inevitable showdown.

Slumping back onto the couch, I stare at my phone, praying that when the time comes to face my father, it doesn’t destroy this fragile happiness I’ve found. And more than anything, I hope it doesn’t ruin my relationship with Cody.

He’s become my safe haven. My source of joy, security, and calm. Losing him is more terrifying than any confrontation with my father.

I don’t know if I deserve him, but for the first time in my life I have something worth fighting for.

Someone worth fighting for.

I spend the rest of the day sorting through my jewelry, purses, and shoes, texting Cody every few hours. They’re all hungover and not looking forward to the six-hour bus ride back.

He sent me a picture of the Corona he’s nursing at the hotel bar, along with a few words that almost had me whipping my purple wand out.

Cody: Can’t wait to be inside you, baby. I’ve missed you.

As much as I’d like to scratch that itch and give myself an orgasm, I’d much rather have Cody do the honors. He’s better at it than I am. The orgasms he evokes are much more powerful.

By the time the bachelor party is in good enough shape to get on the road, it’s eight in the evening. Cody won’t be back until late into the night, so I send him another text as I head out for food.

Me: I left my key in your mailbox. Let yourself in.

He doesn’t reply until I’m on my way back, the aromatic scent of pizza filling my small Porsche.

Cody: That tells me you’re planning to fall asleep. Wait for me.

Me: I’ll try, but just in case, the key is there.

My good mood evaporates when I park my car and spot Cody’s stalker lurking outside, eyes hidden behind a pair of oversized shades.

She’s nervously pressing a button on the keypad, probably ringing Cody’s place, then paces three steps left and right, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice far from friendly.

I’m in combat mode, jealousy writhing inside me. If she thinks she can steal my man, she has another thing coming.

She turns on her heel, and my combat stance wavers. There’s something almost desperate in her expression. A kind of deeply ingrained sadness I know well.

“Oh, hey, Blair. I was just calling your apartment…”

“You’re here to see me?” That’s not what I expected. My initial jealousy fades as I gesture toward the pizza box. “I stepped out for food.”

She bites her lip, inserting a tense pause. “I need a favor,” she finally admits, eyes welling with tears. “Please.” Her voice cracks like eggshells.

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” I set the pizza on a nearby bench, giving her my full attention.

“I need to apologize to Cody.”

I stiffen at that, the jealous monster rearing its head once more. “Cody isn’t here. It’s Logan’s bachelor party weekend.”

“I know. That’s why I came tonight.” She pauses as if shepherding her emotions. She looks so small and lost it throws me off-guard. “I want you to give him something.” She hands me a crumpled piece of paper from her pocket.

“What’s this?”

“An apology. I can’t face him. Not after everything I did, so I wrote a letter. Read it, okay? I want you to know, and if you decide he should see it, give it to Cody.”

“It’s not my place to decide what he should or shouldn’t see. I’ll give it to him when he comes back.”

“Thank you.” She offers me a small smile, already backing away. “You make a cute couple, you know?”

She doesn’t wait for me to respond, turning and marching away, her heels clicking against the sidewalk.

I lose my appetite by the time I drop the bag on the kitchen island.

Ana did say she wanted me to read it…

Before I can talk myself out of it, I sit on the couch and unfold the letter.

Cody,

A letter. How very nineties of me, right?

Maybe in a way, but the truth is, I’m scared to face you. I made a mess of my life. There’s a lot I need to get off my chest, and I owe you an apology.

Hopefully, by the time you finish reading, things will make more sense, and you’ll understand why I behaved the way I did.

First, I’m sorry for dragging you into my messed-up world. It wasn’t fair. You never deserved the crazy you got from me.

I blamed myself for my brother’s suicide and, in a twisted way, I started punishing myself. I couldn’t deal with the guilt, knowing he could still be alive if I had found time for him.

My brother’s girl broke up with him, and I wasn’t there when he needed me most. I was so caught up in my own life that I didn’t give him the time and attention he needed. He called me the night before he died, asking me to come over… I didn’t, and then he was gone.

Everything fell apart. I thought that by setting myself up for your rejection, I could feel a fraction of the pain he did. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle. I have nothing in my defense other than that I wasn’t thinking clearly.

I’m sure you’ve noticed—with great relief—that I’ve not been around for a few weeks. I’ve been in daily therapy since I last saw you.

I would probably be stalking you still if my mom hadn’t asked me to help clean out my brother’s place. Seeing his empty apartment and dealing with all that guilt was too much. I broke down.

Now that I’m in therapy, popping pills, I’m starting to get better. I’m working through that guilt, learning to live again.

I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I’m sorry for the drama and thank you for never filing that restraining order like I know you wanted to.

I hope you can forgive me. Once I’m all better, maybe we can grab a drink and make fun of my stalking.

Ana

***

“B,” I hear Cody whisper, softly but urgently, his fingers grazing my cheek. “B, wake up, baby. I need you.”

A flutter in my belly pulls me further out of sleep, the anticipation sky-high. Slowly, I open my eyes, finding him sitting beside me, nothing but his silhouette visible in the darkness.

“Hey,” I murmur, reaching to touch his face. “I half expected I’d wake up with you already sliding inside me.”

“It crossed my mind, but we’ve not discussed it.”

“You have my consent to fuck me while I sleep.” I yawn, stretching out before I sit up. “What time is it?”

“Almost three.” He grips my waist when I get up, standing me between his legs, his lips kissing the hollow between my breasts. “You’re not getting any more sleep tonight.”

“Okay, but I need three minutes in the bathroom first.”

“Two.” He pats my butt. “Not a second longer.”

A pleasant shudder runs through me when he slips his fingers under the hem of my night dress, moving the fabric up as they graze my thigh.

“Dirty dream?” he questions, slipping two digits inside me. “You’re wet, B.”

“That’s what you do to me.”

He groans, plunging in deeper. “So warm… fuck, I need you on me right now.”

I gently tap the back of his head. “Two minutes. Strip, Cody.”

Wriggling out of his embrace, I lock myself in the bathroom to brush my teeth and sprinkle my face with cold water. Cody’s naked when I step back into the bedroom.

The nightlamp is on, and he sits with his back to the headboard, palming his cock, stroking slowly.

The sight makes my knees buckle.

“Do it again,” I order, sliding the straps of my night dress down my arms. It sighs into a heap of blue silk at my feet. Cody pumps his length, his burning gaze fixed on my boobs. “That’s hot,” I whisper. “One day, I want to sit and watch.”

“That day won’t be today. Panties off, B.”

Hooking my thumbs in the elastic, my blue thong follows the night dress before my knees dent the mattress at the bottom of the bed.

“Good girl,” Cody rasps, his big hand working faster. “Now crawl to me.”

Another body-wide shudder shakes me. I’m slick between my legs, every move reminding me how much I want and need him inside. I crawl slowly, my eyes idling between his face and his cock, the head red, angry, and glistening with precum.

“I want a taste,” I murmur.

“Want? Someone’s feeling bratty tonight.” He grips the back of my head once I’m in reach. “Lose the attitude and ask nicely.”

He tries to drag me in for a kiss, but instead, I dive, taking him down my throat fast.

Oops… I forgot to ask.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his fingers spasming in my hair. “Fine. I’ll gladly take this kind of bratty, but not tonight. Come here.”

He gently pulls me off him and helps me maneuver into position, his hands supporting my butt. We both gasp when I sink, loving how he stretches me slowly.

“Don’t move,” he whispers in my mouth, holding me still once he’s balls-deep. “Too good. You feel way too good, B. I missed you.” He forces my forehead against his, taking my lips in slow, biting kisses. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“All those boobs you saw didn’t distract you?”

He pushes my hips back far enough that just the head of his cock remains nestled inside me, then yanks me close again, the sensation setting off fireworks in my head.

“I prefer your boobs.” He pushes me back again, dipping his head to circle my nipples with his hot tongue.

“Mine are small. I’m sure you’ve seen better.”

“They’re not yours; they’re mine and perfect. Round, sweet…” He kisses each one, then my lips as he grips my waist, flipping us over. “Mine, B. Every inch of you is mine.”

He pulls out and thrusts in, hovering over me, the weight of his body soothing me in the best way. Instead of the expected hard, relentless fuck, sex is different tonight.

So much different it has my heart swelling every time he bottoms out inside me. Those brown eyes glued to my face shine with an unfamiliar intensity. Less lust, more affection. Our moves, touches, kisses… different. Deeper. More intimate. More meaningful. Slow, tender, intense.

He cradles my face, kisses my lips, and watches me as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear.

We can’t get close enough.

A smoldering behind my ribs envelopes my heart more the longer I look into his eyes and see the emotions raging inside him, and I want—

No, I shouldn’t. It’s too soon… too dangerous. I should protect myself in case this bubble bursts. In case he leaves once I tell him about my father, or when his brothers decide I’m not worth forgiveness, but… when he touches me like he’s worshipping every inch and kisses me like he’s trying to show me who I belong to, I stop overthinking, and just feel.

I part my lips, throwing caution to the wind. “Cody, I—”

“I know,” he whispers, sealing my lips. “I know, baby.”

I feel it in our gestures. See it in his eyes. Taste it on his lips.

This is it. What I never wanted to happen, happened, and now we’re both desperate to let the other one know because this… us… it’s perfect in all its imperfections. It’s right.

And well overdue, seeing how fast we fell.

“I hate you more,” he says, caressing every inch of my skin he can reach.

That word feels right.

The hate we harbored evolved. So has the definition, at least for us, and we both mean a different four-letter word.

“I hate you so. Fucking. Much,” he breathes, pressing his lips to my forehead.

“I hate you more.”