Chasing After Me

by R. C. Martin

  I laugh, surprised by everyone’s welcome, and offer up a meek wave. “Hi,” I murmur.

  “Coder, the guys are parked in front of the TV,” says Willow, heading toward us with outstretched arms. “Scoot. And leave your girl,” she demands, taking a willing Caroline into her arms.

  I grow warm at the thought of being left alone in this room with these women. Without Coder as a buffer, I feel completely intimidated by them. They’re all older and in a completely different place in life than I am. They know who they are and what they want. They know who they belong to and who they love. I, on the other hand, am just Kenzie.

  Coder squeezes my hand, earning my attention. “You good?” he asks as I look up at him.

  “Oh, please, Coder—we don’t bite,” Daphne insists.

  “Yeah. We’re harmless,” pipes in Grace, her blue eyes bright with playful mischief.

  “We can’t bond so long as you’re here. So, my little brother-to-be, get out.”

  Looking at all of them, each more adamant than the last, I decide that they’re right. I slip my fingers from between Coder’s, dropping my hand to my side as I assure him, “I’m okay.”

  He studies me for a moment and then takes a step behind me, easing my coat off. He then gives me a quick kiss before pointing at his friends, warning them, “Don’t fucking scare her away.”

  As soon as he leaves, Grace giggles and then says, “I have never seen him like this before. I love it.”

  “Seen him like what?” I venture to ask.

  Walking over to link arms with me, Willow escorts me to the kitchen table as she explains, “Before his accident, Coder was…”

  “Flighty,” says Daphne.

  “That’s a nice way of putting it,” Grace agrees with a nod.

  “Anyway, he wouldn’t commit. He didn’t want to be tied down, I guess.”

  My nerves from a moment ago make way for a rising sense of panic as I sit. Too busy comparing myself to these women, I never stopped to think that maybe they’d offer up inside information on Coder. Fidgeting with my fingers, I force myself to ask, “And after his accident?”

  “It was a real eye opener for him,” answers Willow as she sits, settling Caroline in her lap. “None of the girls from his little black book were around for the hard parts.”

  “He’s never said it out loud to any of us,” Grace pipes in. “But that was when he grew up. When he realized that he was never going to find who he wanted so long as he was messing around with a bunch of girls he didn’t really care about.”

  “Coder’s one of us, you know? He’s a family man, always has been. He respects what we have here; he respects the men in the next room and the relationships that they have with us,” says Daphne, turning from the stove. “He was betting for Trevor and I to get our act together just like everyone else.” She smiles, smoothing her hands over her baby bump before she goes on to add, “He was just younger back then. He needed a chance to sow his wild oats. We knew he’d grow out of it eventually. All of our guys did. It sucks that it happened when it happened the way that it happened, but he’s okay. In fact, he came out stronger—more determined and grounded.”

  “Harvey still talks about how his work has improved so much in the last year. We’re all really proud of him—our baby rascal,” Grace concludes with a grin.

  I look to each of them, their love for Coder evident; but I still can’t figure out what all of their words mean. They say he’s different now, that he’s not flighty—but he hasn’t committed to me, either. Not officially. I don’t know what that means.

  “Um,” I start and then I pause, my stomach dropping as all eyes fall on me. “Has he…has he ever brought a girl to family dinner before?”

  None of them answer me at first, each of them exchanging knowing looks. Then, finally, Willow reaches over and squeezes my knee as she tells me, “Never. Not once. I told you you were special.”

  My heart swells and my cheeks warm up in a mild blush as I look down into my lap, hiding my smile.

  “All right, all right—now it’s time to flip the script before we call the guys in,” Grace demands. My smile slips as I look over at her. She smirks, lifting an eyebrow at me. “You’re a pretty little thing, and it’s obvious why he would like you, but he’s our baby rascal—we need to make sure you’re not hiding any skeletons in your closet.”

  “Skeletons? I don’t—”

  “Shit!” Daphne gasps, snapping her finger. She then points at me as she states, “That’s where I’ve seen your face before!”

  I seal my lips closed as I stare at her with wide eyes. I knew she looked familiar, since that first day that I was in the shop, but I haven’t been able to figure out why.

  “You were at Avery’s wedding a couple years back—Avery O’Conner?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s my sister-in-law, sort of. Her twin is married to my brother.”

  “Oh, my god,” she says with a laugh. “You’re Beckham’s little sister.”

  “Yeah. That’s me.”

  Folding her arms across her chest, she smiles as she announces, “She’s good people, ladies. I know her family. No interrogation necessary.”

  She winks at me, and I breathe a sigh of relief, which makes both Willow and Grace laugh. Then, as if I’m no longer just a guest, but one of them, Grace waves me over and points up at a cabinet before she says, “Set the table, will you? Dinner’s ready.”

  Dinner is amazing—and I don’t mean just the food. Though, it must be said, Grace’s spaghetti and meatballs rivals my mom’s, for sure. But it was the experience itself, it was getting the chance to just be in the room that made it so enjoyable. It was like a slow afternoon at the shop, everyone hanging out and messing around, except it was better. It felt like a holiday, with all of us crammed at the table—the guys drinking beer, Willow and Grace drinking wine, and Daphne and me sticking to water—the kids giggling or screaming, depending on their mood, and it was…amazing. Just amazing.

  When everyone was done with dinner, the guys cleaned up, and then we all headed into the family room to watch movies. Coder grabbed a couple pillows and threw them on the floor, claiming our spot. He guided me down into the space between his legs, holding me against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was then that I truly noticed and appreciated that we were all coupled off—and not once, not once the entire afternoon did I feel like an outsider or a hang-around. I felt like I belonged to Coder, which made me feel just as special as Willow keeps insisting that I am.

  We had dessert after the first movie, and then Trevor and Daphne headed home so they could get Caroline ready for bed. It wasn’t until after the second movie that the rest of us dispersed. Now, as Coder walks me to my door, I can’t stop smiling.

  “Thank you for letting me be a part of that. It was really fun.”

  “Liked having you there.”

  I look up at him, still smiling, and he winks at me as we reach our destination.

  “Lunch on Tuesday?”

  “I’ll order in,” he tells me, pulling me into his arms.

  “’Kay.”

  “Meant what I said, babe,” he mutters, dipping his head until his lips graze mine.

  “What?” I whisper.

  “Liked having you there today. Want you there again.”

  Grinning, I grab hold of his jacket and pull myself closer. “’Kay.”

  I barely get the word out before his lips are sealed around mine. When his tongue sweeps through my mouth, nothing in the world exists except for him. I’m so lost in our kiss I don’t hear the door open. I don’t hear it close, either. It isn’t until Coder pulls away from me, looking beside us, that I realize Owen is standing there, glaring at us in obvious confusion.

  “What the hell is going on here?” he asks.

  Coder drops his arms from around me, squaring his shoulders to Owen as he asks, “What’s it to you?”

  Owen’s brow dips even further as he says, “Kenz is a friend of mine. See
ing as I’ve never seen you before in my life, I’m guessing I know her a hell of a lot better than you do.”

  Coder’s lip turns up in a smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement. Before he can say a word, I jump into the space between them. I grab his hand, looking at him from over my shoulder, hoping to convey to him not to say a word, and then I look up at Owen. His eyes flick down to my hand wrapped around Coder’s before his gaze locks with mine. When he lifts an eyebrow at me in question, I take a deep breath and then try and find the words to explain.

  “This is Coder. He’s—he’s—” I trip over my own words, not entirely sure what he is to me. Shaking my head, I go on to say, “He’s important.” Feeling confident in my explanation, I nod and repeat, “He’s important to me.”

  “Funny. You’ve never mentioned him before.”

  I start to tremble, afraid that this is all going to fall apart right here and right now. If Brooke hears us and comes out here—

  “Look, I didn’t tell you because Brooke doesn’t know. I haven’t told her yet.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Owen asks, “And you’re keeping this from your best friend because…?”

  I don’t answer him. I can’t. I can’t stand here and look him in the eyes and tell him that I was afraid to tell Brooke because I was afraid that she would try and steal Coder from me. I can’t remind him that when Brooke sees something she wants, she gets it. That would only serve to remind him that she doesn’t see him. It would hurt his feelings to know that in spite of his availability—in spite of his deep, genuine feelings for her—she has her heart set on the guy who is fast becoming the owner of mine. Or at least she did. I can’t say for sure anymore. Nevertheless, the right time hasn’t presented itself.

  “Owen, it’s complicated.”

  “Mack—I’m gonna go,” says Coder, squeezing my hand before pulling his out of my grasp.

  I whirl around to face him, my heart suddenly pounding. “Wait—don’t go.”

  “Babe, you’ve got issues,” he says, jerking his chin behind me. “I’m gonna go.”

  Sure that this is bad, that this is really, really bad, I watch him get as far as the staircase before I go chasing after him.

  “Wait—please!”

  He stops only when I’ve grabbed hold of his arm, and then he sighs before his eyes seek out mine. “How is it that all of my friends know about you—and none of yours know about me?”

  “Coder, honey, it’s not like that,” I blurt out, my eyes suddenly swimming in tears.

  His lips curl up in a smirk, and my stomach clenches at the sight, even though I’m not at all sure what his expression means in this context. He then pulls his arm from out of my grip before gently taking hold of my chin. He kisses me softly, and in a voice so low and rumbly I’m sure only I can hear, he tells me, “Think about it, babe. I’ll talk to you later.”

  My heart sinks as I watch him hurry down the stairs, my vision growing blurrier as he descends further into the darkness. I almost forget that Owen is still with me until I feel his hand on my shoulder. I flinch, spinning to face him, and he holds his hands up as if in surrender.

  “What’s going on with you, Kenz?”

  I draw in a shuddered breath, wiping at my tear filled eyes as I shake my head. When I look back up at him, all I can say is, “He’s mine. He’s gorgeous and fun and talented and sexy—he’s mine, or at least I want him to be. But she saw him first. Or, she thinks she did. It doesn’t matter. What matters is—he’s mine. It’s ours, whatever we are, it’s ours—and I just wanted to keep it that way until we figured things out.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  I swallow hard before I admit, “A few weeks.”

  “Shit.”

  “I know.”

  “What’s this guy even about? He doesn’t exactly look your type.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I mutter, hugging my arms around myself.

  “You’re a good girl, Kenzie.”

  “And he’s a good guy,” I retort, quick to come to his defense.

  “The kind of good guy who goes to church? I thought that was, like, a prerequisite for you.”

  “So did I,” I argue, suddenly feeling frustrated. This conversation—this line of questioning—it’s just one more reason why I didn’t want to tell anyone. “I thought I wanted a lot of things. I thought I knew who I was waiting for—but then I met Coder. I met Coder and…I like him. I like who I am when I’m with him.”

  “A liar. You’re a liar when you’re with him.”

  “That’s not fair,” I bite back through clenched teeth, my tears rapidly returning. “It’s not fair, and you know it. We do a lot of things in the name of love, Owen—it’s not always black and white. You and I, we’re not that different. We’re both keeping our silence. We’re both cowards—but at least I’m chasing after what I want.”

  I brush past him, headed for the apartment. I pause when my hand is on the doorknob. Looking back over my shoulder, I plead, “Don’t tell her. I’m going to do it.”

  He coughs out a humorless laugh and shrugs his shoulders before he grumbles, “Whatever.”

  We stare at each other for a moment, neither of us speaking a word, and then I head inside, hurrying straight to my room.

  I sit in front of the shop for ten minutes, thinking about the three unanswered calls I sent Coder yesterday. I tell myself that he could have been busy—that he works with his hands, and that he could have been in the middle of a session. I tell myself that if he wanted to cancel our plans for this afternoon, he would have. A call. A text. A carrier pigeon. Something. He would have said something. But he didn’t, which means that I should go inside.

  When I finally work up the courage, I slowly climb out of my car, mentally sorting through the last twenty-four hours. I try and remember all the things I have planned to say to Coder, all the ways in which I intend to explain to him that I’m not ashamed of him or what we have, but that it’s the opposite. I want him to understand that I’ve been trying to protect us.

  I don’t know what to expect when I open the front door, the bell alerting the person behind the front counter that I’m here. Having not spoken to Coder since Sunday, I don’t now how he’s feeling; therefore, I don’t know if he’s told anyone what happened after we left family dinner. When I see Trevor look up at me, I brace myself for the worst. I’m surprised when he greets me with a warm smile.

  “’Sup, Kenzie? Coder’s free in the back.”

  I force a smile and a nod before I manage a feeble thanks. I then spend my trip to Coder’s room wondering if things aren’t quite as bad as I imagined them to be.

  When I arrive at my destination, I breathe in a deep, fortifying breath, blowing it out slowly as I cross the threshold. My eyes search the room for Coder, finding him not at his desk, but in the far corner of the room, sorting and stocking new supplies in their appropriate cabinets. Making my way toward him, my heart hurts, thinking how different this last bout of silence felt in comparison to the others. It’s not unusual for him to go a day without speaking to me. Our schedules don’t always mesh, and it’s happened before, where neither of us reaches out to the other—but never after an argument or a misunderstanding.

  I reach out my hand when I’m close enough to touch him, trailing my fingers down his spine to catch his attention. He looks over his shoulder at me, his eyes taking in my face for a moment. Then he informs me, “Lunch will be here in a bit.”

  “You—you ordered lunch?”

  “Yeah, babe. Said I would.”

  “I just thought maybe you were…” I lose my words as he studies me with a blank expression. I wish I knew what he was thinking. I can’t tell at all, and it’s making me anxious. If I’m to go by Trevor’s greeting, it’s apparent that he hasn’t confided in anyone lately; but I can feel that something isn’t right between us.

  “Come ‘ere,” he mutters, righting his head.

  I set my purse down and quickly slid
e out of my coat, folding it on top of my bag for the moment before I situate myself just beside him. I squeal in surprise when he turns and grabs hold of my hips, lifting me up and spinning me around until my butt hits the counter beside the sink. Once I’m seated, he makes room for himself between my legs, leaving his hands around my hips.

  He gives me a squeeze as he asks, “Did you tell her?”

  My stomach drops and my breath gets caught in my throat, making it difficult to speak. When I shake my head no, he frees a loud sigh.

  “I don’t want to play games, Mack. I don’t want to be your dirty little secret, either.”

  Finding my voice, I blurt out, “You’re not!” I reach my hands up and wrap my fingers around the back of his neck. “It’s not like that. I told you—at least, I tried to tell you—when she met you, she decided she wanted you. She told me about you. Before I knew your name, before I knew that we’d both met you at that frat party, she went on and on about you. Then when we came here together, I just knew I didn’t have a chance. Not against Brooke. It’s Brooke! She gets what she wants. Sometimes without even trying. It’s the Brooke way.”

  “Maybe I missed something. My bad. Thought I made it pretty clear who I wanted.”

  “It’s not you,” I insist, sliding my fingers up into his hair. He leans closer to me, and I lean into him as I explain, “I’ve seen Brooke chase after a guy before. She’s a good person, she is, but she can be blindly selfish sometimes. We’ve never liked the same guy before, but I’ve seen her battle it out with other girls. It’s hard to watch, and I…I didn’t want to be that girl. She’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to have to compete with her.”

  “Don’t do that, Mack.”

  I stare into his soulful eyes, eyes so dark and warm—like pools of rich, smooth, decadent chocolate—and I know that I’m falling in love with him. I know that I never want to lose this feeling—the feeling of his stare, of his hands on my body, of my hands on his. I know that I never want to lose him. He’s so good to me, and I want to be good to him. So after a pause, I ask, “Don’t do what?”