THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,273

hot, fine mess. I flick some of my blonde hair out of my face and slowly start back into the flood of traffic. Several agonizing minutes later, I pull into the parking garage and find a spot.

And I thought I was going to be sick before. Flipping down the mirror, I try to determine just how deer-in-the-headlights I look. My eyes look wide, but they’re still blue, and most of my makeup has evaporated since the early morning application. I apply a few coats of mascara and pinch my cheeks.

“You’ve got this. It’s like meeting a stranger. He’s not your Cody. This is completely innocent.” Maybe if I repeat this a million times I’ll begin to believe it. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough time in the world. When I told Dax my plans he looked at me like I was crazy. That crazy slowly morphed into sadness when he realized I was serious. I’ve always told him I had no desire to go back in time. Heartache. It’s all I feel when I think about Cody Ridge and what could have been. I shocked myself when I came to this conclusion and called Cody last night. Because Dax is a great man, he told me to do what I needed to do. Reasoning with me after I’ve made my mind up isn’t an option. He kissed me a little longer than he usually does when I left this morning. I felt it, then—his hesitance to let me go. That small act only made me even more nervous. If he’s hesitant, and he trusts me implicitly, how the hell do I trust myself? Dax is my support system, fully, but right now there’s nothing he can say that will make me feel better. I have to fix this for myself.

Grabbing my bag and locking my car door, I head out of the garage into the heat and bustle of Manhattan. With a quick glance left and right to make sure Cody isn’t near, I set off for the restaurant. It’s an odd thing to be hidden by people. Humans are everywhere, but no one sees past their own egocentric bubble—smartphones in every hand, most texting, some chatting, all ignoring the people next to them.

Then I see him. Cody is looking directly at me, standing shock still in the middle of the sidewalk. People move around him like he’s a statue or some mildly inconveniencing construction sign. No one sees me either. The rest of civilization melts away.

We only see each other.

There’s no making sense of my feelings. I feel everything—the humid breeze prickling the sweaty skin on the back of my neck, the adrenaline pulsing through my veins so thick that it’s almost too much to bear. The sight of him walking toward me is the same view I’ve had in my dreams. It’s always the same. Except the Cody in my dreams was make-believe…a ghost, and this man approaching now is real. He looks older, wiser. He looks broken in a way I know will never be repairable. He looks the same, yet different—challenged, yet privileged. I know this man in every way.

Cody squints his eyes, almost like it pains him to see me, but I see such emotion pouring from his simple gesture that it literally brings me to my knees, out of breath and panting. Tears trickle down my face, a slow assault on my willpower, and his pace falters. He stops. He’s examining me, the new Lainey—the person who was born after his death. The woman he knew is gone. The problem with that is I still have her heart. It races along, thumping jaggedly for the man I love. For the man I thought was forever gone; for the man I now have no right to. Cody takes a few more steps until he’s at arm’s length away. Looking down at me, I look up at him. A smile. That smile breaks across his face as he extends his hand to me.

“Trip on your laces, Fast Lane?” he says. “Let me help you up.”

Taking his offered hand makes me realize I didn’t feel everything a moment ago. I feel everything right now. My hand actually tingles where it’s pressed against his. “Cody.” Wobbling on my heels, I stand to face him, still basically hyperventilating. His white smile assaults me and I can’t help it. I let my eyes wander to the rest of him.

Shaking my head, I say, “You’re alive.” And he’s so handsome I could crumple