THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,274

into myself and weep. He keeps his hair a little longer than he used to. My fingers would have something to clutch. His face looks the same. Perhaps the little lines around his eyes have deepened, but they only add to his overall appeal. I can’t see his muscles, as they’re covered in a blue button-up linen shirt, but they look like they are all still bulging and textbook perfect. I notice a tattoo peeking from his rolled up sleeves. That’s something new.

Ignoring my obvious appraisal, his grin widens. “You’re alive!” he counters. Taking my other hand in his, he studies me closer. I want to know what he thinks of me after all this time. Knowing full well I have no right to know and definitely no right to ask.

“You look beautiful, Lainey.”

“Are you some kind of mind reader?”

“No. I’m just skilled at reading yours.” He drops my hands and his thick, tanned neck works as he swallows. He’s just as affected by seeing me. A fact that suddenly makes me feel ill. “And right now I’m thinking we should get into the restaurant. You skinned your knee when you tripped on your shoelaces.”

Sure as shit, I have blood trickling down my shin. “Great. I’ll probably contract some virulent disease.” When I look up at him his eyes are darting around, and I can tell he’s trying to solve something.

He runs a hand through his hair. “My place is just over there if you want to get cleaned up before lunch?” He nods to a beautiful high-rise building a few blocks over. My eyes widen. There’s no way. I selected this restaurant because it’s close to my fabric store. I had no idea this is where he lives.

He laughs. “I’m pretty sure you’re not surprised I have an apartment in this neighborhood, so I’m going to assume you don’t want to be alone in said apartment with me? You have nothing to worry about, Lainey.”

My heart bangs against my chest. I’m not sure if it’s fear or adrenaline, but I can’t concentrate on anything except the rhythm it’s beating. Cody is right in front of me right now. “I’m not worried,” I bark out, indignant that he can really read my fucking mind.

“I have antibacterial ointment,” he says in a singsong voice. Damn it. Something he knows about me. I rub that shit on everything. This cut on my leg needs a whole tube.

I squint my eyes at him. “Fine. Only because even you can agree this needs antibacterial ointment. I must really need it. We’re just going to talk. I suppose we can do that anywhere.” He laughs, the baritone sounds sending shockwaves to my core. God, I’ve missed him.

Cody quirks a brow. “Of course we’re just going to talk. What else would we do?” Someone bumps into me, rousing me into awareness. In that mere second, a million things I would do with him run through my mind. All things I can’t do. Not anymore, at least. None of them require clothing.

I lick my lips. “Right. Right. Of course. Let’s go,” I agree, even though I see carnal desires reflected in his eyes. We’re on the exact same page. Same fucking word. He leads me through the crowds, his large presence forcing people to move without saying a word. We cross the street and I watch every step Cody takes. His gait is the same. The sweet smile he aims my way every few minutes is in the exact form it was before he…died. The doorman smiles and nods his head at Cody. “Mr. Ridge,” he says, opening the ornate entry to the building.

Cody ushers me in first. “Mr. Ridge?” I ask, lifting one brow.

He merely shrugs and heads toward the elevator. We stare at each other for the entire ride up to the top. Me trying to dispel every thought I’ve had about Cody for the past three years and him probably trying to analyze me. Why, after all this time, I want to see him? How to explain that this wasn’t something I wanted? I needed to see him in the flesh.

The elevator doors open into a cool, large hallway. His apartment is the one all the way at the end, overlooking the expanse of Central Park. It’s gorgeous and large. It’s lonely. “I’ll go grab your special potion. Make yourself at home,” Cody says, disappearing down a dark hallway. Palms sweaty, I fish for my cell phone in my purse. No missed calls or