LIFE HAS A CRUEL WAY OF STEALING HAPPINESS at the least appropriate moment. Fridays used to be my favorite day of the week. I loved hanging out with my girls, trailing from one boutique to another, coffee in hand, chatting, laughing, and gossiping about boys.
Now, as I haul two shopping bags from my car, I feel like an impostor. Gone is the easy air. Gone is the carefree vibe and joy I felt surrounded by friends.
Maybe because they’re not my friends anymore. They’ve let me back into their close-knit circle, but it feels like I’m on probation. Like my every move and word is scrutinized, judged…
They’re on guard, always coming up with some excuse to stop me joining them for drinks.
Last week Kelly-Ann excused herself from the group, then came back saying drinks were canceled because her grandmother surprised them with a visit. This week Mikaela got a call from her brother, Toby, begging her to babysit his son.
It’s been happening for months. At first, I believed the stories, but one evening Kelly-Ann’s excuse didn’t quite add up. So, after parting ways, I drove past the cocktail bar we love most, and sure enough, there they were, at a window table, laughing and drinking margaritas.
I couldn’t hold back the tears trailing down my cheeks the whole ride back home. I almost skipped our shopping spree the following week, but… I hate feeling so lonely.
This past year was the worst of my life. I locked myself in my father’s mansion for weeks on end, drowning in tears, regret, and fear.
There is an upside: I grew as a person. I grew as a woman. But I’m only human and I join the girls every Friday, craving any form of interaction.
So what if I’m not sipping margaritas with them right now? At least I wasn’t locked in my condo all day, like every evening since I moved here.
It’s already been a week. Seven whole days of living across from Mr. Hayes. After the conversation with Brandon, I spent the rest of the evening unpacking and pondering how to navigate the Cody situation. The following day, heart in my mouth, I said hey when we bumped into each other in the hallway.
His shoulders tensed, jaw clamped shut, and my greeting flew over his head, not a word in return.
I expected a rude comment out of his mouth, so the silent treatment felt like a small victory. But after five more days of no reaction, no words, not even a glance, I started feeling stupid.
All the more so because, every day, I left my condo as soon as I heard his door open, hoping he might finally bark out hey if I was persistent enough.
Wrong thinking.
I was forced to admit defeat and stopped accidentally crossing his path yesterday.
The lock on my red Porsche—an eighteenth birthday gift from my dad—clicks as I make my way toward the building, two bags swinging from my wrist. My brows furrow when I spot a girl on her phone, propped against the wall next to the main entrance.
I haven’t seen her around here before. I would’ve remembered the blonde pixie cut and tiny, pierced nose. Her large silver hoop earrings sway as she shakes her head, rubbing a hand down her patchwork jeans.
I’m about ten steps from the door when her face crumbles and she closes her eyes as though holding back tears.
“Cody, please let me in, baby. I just want to talk, okay?”
To say I freeze mid-step doesn’t paint the picture. I come to such an abrupt, screeching halt I almost give myself whiplash.
My inner gossip girl takes over. Slowing my pace, I creep just enough steps closer to overhear Cody’s response.
Biding my time, I set down my shopping bags and fumble through my purse for my keys. You can’t get in without a six-digit code and a key unless someone inside buzzes you in.
“Go home, Ana.” I barely hear Cody’s stern voice coming through her phone’s speaker. “You can’t keep doing this shit. How did you find out where I live?”
“I followed you,” she admits like it’s so obvious.
Like it’s so normal.
Instead of shame heating her cheeks, she looks proud. “You promised we’d talk,” she adds as I locate the keys and slide one into the lock.
Her eyes flick open at the sound, sparkling as her gaze idles between me, the key, and my finger hovering over the keypad.
“Oh, hey,” she greets, a bright smile stretching her lips. “I’m visiting my boyfriend. Could you let me in, please?”
“Jesus, Ana, what the—” Cody snaps but she cuts him off, finger jammed against the volume down switch.
“It’s okay, baby, don’t worry. I’ll be up in a minute.” She ends the call, pulling a concerned face. “He’s not well,” she sighs. “Can’t get to the door. I think he caught the flu.”
I’ve been playing different roles my whole life, and her acting skills wouldn’t fool anyone. Cody obviously doesn’t want this girl here, and the fact she followed him home raises all kinds of red flags.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know you. I can’t let you in,” I say, dropping my hand from the keypad.
I think she’ll bulldoze her way in if I open the door.
She beams, showing off her teeth as she extends her hand. “I’m Ana Johnson. Cody’s girlfriend. Do you know him? Cody Hayes. He moved in a few days ago.”
“I do know Cody,” I admit, less and less comfortable around her. “If he says it’s okay to let you in, I will.”
“It’s okay, honestly. He’s just not well, and—” A movement inside the building stops her talking.
We both peer through the glass door at Cody crossing the entryway, his shoulders drawn back, eyes narrowed, fingers flexing as he clenches and unclenches his big hands. He’s been doing that since I can remember—a telltale sign of nerves.
The heavy door swings open, and Cody blocks the path, snatching my shopping bags off the ground.
Without so much as a cursory glance my way, he hands them over, stepping aside to let me through, then zeroes in on Ana.
“I’m taking you home. We’ll talk on the way.”
The last thing I see before he drags her toward his Mustang is the elated, dreamy look on Ana as she stares at Cody’s fingers cinching her arm.
She’s not far off melting into a puddle at his feet.
I can easily relate. There’s no denying that Cody is handsome. He’s a Hayes. They’re all hot, but Cody is just… more.
Broad shoulders, the expanse of his muscular back, the way he always wears his long, dark hair in a bun, short beard trimmed. And when he’s in his white sleeveless tank top and gray cargo joggers for the gym like I’ve seen him the past week… yes please.
When Conor, Colt, and Cody were younger, they wore their hair and clothes exactly the same, making it nearly impossible to tell them apart. But as they entered middle school, they began to differentiate themselves. By high school, their sense of fashion evolved, and there’s no mistaking one for another anymore.
And no overlooking Cody every time I see him in the hallway. It’s not a secret I’ve had a crush on him since high school. Half of the school lusted after the triplets.
My innocent crush turned not so innocent when I moved to college. I hadn’t seen Cody for a year, since he graduated earlier, and when I caught a glimpse of him after all that time, my insides somersaulted backward.
Cody was always good-looking. Always a catch, as the girls called all the Hayes. On top of his looks, he was funny. Clever. Careless in an adorable, boyish way. But in that one year he changed a whole lot.
He was no longer a boy.
He was a man. Big, toned, ripped, his jaw chiseled, intricate tattoos running from his wrist all the way to his neck.
My crush intensified, swelling out of all proportion, then died quickly when I saw him with Mia. I didn’t stand a chance. The triplets were so protective of her, and Cody took his big brother role one step further than Colt or Conor.
Once my mom died, life became that much harder, and my crush was forgotten.
Until—apparently—now.
