Page 90 of Rewrite the Rules

“Because.”

I pour the boiling water into the top of the French press and the loose grounds rise. I shake my finger at Cody warning him to wait. The eager beaver always pushes down on the lever too quickly. The result? Weak coffee.

“Fine. Just give hermynumber. And then I’m going to send you some pictures I’d like you to forward on.”

“Hell no.”

“Why not?”

“Because the other morning I saw women leaving your bedroom one by one like a freaking slutty clown car.”

“That’s an exaggeration if I’ve ever heard one. There were two girls.”

“That’s still one too many, buddy.”

Cody sucks in his lips. “We were watching a movie…”

“That you filmed from your bedroom?”

“Addie-cakes! Denver is my home now and I think it’s time I get serious. Maybe put down some roots. If you give me Quinn’s number, I promise she’ll be the only girl in my bedroom here on out.”

“Mighty cocky over there.” I stifle my explosive laughter at the thought of Quinn entering Cody’s slop of a bedroom. She’d pass out from the visual.

“Please.” Cody blinks expectantly at me. What’s the appropriate way to explain to Cody that Quinn would chew him up and spit him out? I’ve watched men try before…and fail miserably. I place my hands on my hips and scour his face.

“Tell me one thing you like about Quinn and if I deem your answer worthy you can have her number.”

“One thing?”

“Yes. Please tell me why after stalking her Instagram and Facebook you want her number. By the way tits, ass, and ‘lickable’ tan skin are allunworthyanswers. Impress me, Cody-cakes. Why, outside of getting it in, are you so obsessed with meeting Quinn?”

I tap my foot impatiently against the espresso-colored hardwood floor. Cody’s face twists in contemplation before he answers.He’s got nothing.

“She’s not trying to be seen.”

I raise one brow, not sure if I’m supposed to be offended on behalf of my best friend. “What?”

“She doesn’t use filters. No duckface. She doesn’t pose to show off her ass or cleavage. No heavy makeup. She’s never even looking at the camera. She’s completely comfortable and confident in who she is and…I don’t know, I could use that energy in my life right now. I want her number so I can ask her out on a real date. To talk. Not so I canget it in.”

Ah…damn.

Cody winks, self-assured. “Nailed it, right? But also, yeah—you want me to lie or something? She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“I’ll text her info later,” I grumble. “But she’s going to handle you like a piece of bubblegum.”

“Ooh, that’s hot.”

“Not what I meant. Quinn is not the type to—well, you know what? You’re a big boy. You can learn your own lesson.” I fill two mugs with coffee and slide one to Cody. “Coffee on the terrace, good sir?” I ask in a horrendous British accent.

“Sure. But leave that thing inside,” he sneers at Felices who is still busy stuffing his whiskered face.

We settle into the balcony furniture and Cody opts for the sectional seat just to the left of me. He raises his legs so his toes are inches from my knee. If I could sum up Cody in one visual, it’d be this. Comfortable with no boundaries.

I take advantage of the momentary lull in conversation to ask a random question. “Do you know how much Felices cost?”

“Why?”

“I might be in the market for a Savannah cat.”

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