Page 9 of Honey Pot

“I’d offer to join you for Thanksgiving, but I don’t think that will go over well with your mother.” I tried to ease the tension and erase the lavender smell of her hair from my nose before it made my eyes water.

“Didn’t you hear?” He cleared his throat and inhaled. “The Shores are hosting Thanksgiving up at the cabin. Silas has been planning it for weeks.”

Focusing on my recovery has left me out in the cold in ways I could have never imagined.

“I guess you’ll be okay then,” I forced a smile.

“My treat.” He waved Kayla over to pay.

I slid down against the booth and sighed as my stare became unfocused and the emotions I fought so hard stirred beneath the surface. I was trying my best to be the Cael Cody they all knew and loved, but it was hard, firstly and most importantly, without the drugs, but even more so sometimes when I realized they didn’t need me as much as I needed them.

“Let’s get you to therapy before Silas kicks my ass.” Dean slapped me against the shoulder.

CODY

“Plum.” I kissed a line down her neck to her shoulder and hooked my finger beneath the strap of her tank top. “I missed you,” I whispered against her warm skin. “Where have you been?”

“I’m always right here.” She shivered beneath my touch as her hands cupped my face and brought us together. The kiss was languid and filled with heat as her tongue slipped into my mouth and my hands tangled into her dark brown hair.

“You’re only here when I close my eyes.” I kissed the corners of her mouth and ran a hand down her back to her ass, grabbing as much of her as I could and tugging her up to straddle my legs with her own.

I wanted to stay there forever, staring into her dark brown eyes. I could die there and know true happiness. I brushed a thumb over her round jaw, plump bottom lip, and across her rosy cheek, taking in every delicate, goddess-like feature she bore.

“Your eyes are wide open, silly.” She smiled at me, her shoulders bouncing as she giggled.

Her dark hair draped across the dark purple lace bra she wore and tickled my skin as she leaned down. She rolled her hands over my chest and kissed a crooked line across my skin, sucking and nibbling on my neck. Heat pooled in my stomach, but the icy feeling of distance sparked at my fingertips, and I knew she was slipping away.

“You’re too far away,” I groaned as she leaned away from my touch. “Don’t go,” I whined as she rolled over into the darkness.

“Kitten.” Arlo’s sneaker dug into my ribcage and I clawed at him in the hazy light of sunrise.

“This is a nightmare. You’re supposed to be in Dallas.” I rolledover.

“That was two days ago, Cael,” Arlo snapped. “Let’s go for a run.”

“No, Asshole.” I pulled the pillow over my face. “You ruined a really good dream and, for that, I hate your guts and will not be partaking in your five a.m. torture session you describe as a run!”

My body was still sore from the day before with Silas, and the therapy, though doing its job to rehabilitate my shoulder, was exhausting and frankly dull. Silas had been slowly taking over my sessions from Ella because, according to Grandpa, together we never got anything done. That was just a lie. That fun vampire wouldn’t understand enjoyment if it slapped him in the face.

“I got news,” he said, and I peeked out from behind the pillow to see him standing awkwardly beside my bed with his hands in the pockets of his black hoodie. “Ten minutes.Outside. Don’t make me come back up here.”

He left my room, and I rolled back into the pillow, inhaling the lavender scent as deeply as possible before straightening my arms and pushing from the bed. I tugged a sweater on to block out the cold air and laced up my sneakers with one eye open.

“Have you seen—” Arlo handed my baseball cap to me as I bounded down the stairs of the Nest toward him.

“Cool,” I flipped it up and over my overgrown hair. “I still hate you.” I looked him up and down. “But curiosity willalwayskill this cat.”

“I’m pretty sure you have more lives than any cat I’ve ever met,” he groaned and led the way.

“So, news?” The burn from the chilly morning air started to sink into my lungs as we rounded down the hill toward the stadium.

“Dallas offered me a position as a pitching coach for the season.”

The silence was pulled so tight I could look at it wrong, and it would snap.

I had known this day was coming. Arlo wasn’t going to stay at Harbor forever—that was a foolish little dream that sobered me up, held onto like it would save my life.

“Breathe, Cael,” he laughed, slapping my chest. “It’s an interim position, a trial run. I’ll be gone a lot, but not permanently.”

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