But I Need You - W. Winters Page 0,16
the texts between Cody and Delilah.
I need to see you. Cody’s been relentless. I can’t blame him. He’s worried and for good reason. I haven’t responded to the messages he’s sent me. I’m sure that’s caused some unfortunate thoughts to enter his mind.
I never thought I’d hear you say that. I can practically hear her voice hum the somewhat flirtatious response.
Please, tonight.
It must be more than jealousy that I feel when she gives in. Perhaps … it’s obsession. Although from what I know of that shortcoming, it often comes with anger. And there’s not a bit of it at the thought of her loving Cody. She has such a big heart. I’ve seen her love a monster before. She could love me too. I know she can. But it would be so much easier to love Cody.
The faint sounds of chairs scraping and men with thick accents greeting each other force me to click over to the other screen. It’s already recording but still, I watch and wait. These strings are more important to pull than the ones of lovers.
Delilah
It’s easier to pretend like it didn’t happen than to face the reality. Every other minute, those piercing blue eyes penetrate my every thought and remind me that I saw him again, kissed him again, and was dying for it like I had before. Not only that, but so much more transpired.
And I enjoyed it. I wanted more.
I could lie like an expert witness on the stand and tell myself it was for answers, but the crackle I felt between us, the dose of lust and shot of heat can’t be ignored. There’s something fucked up in my head. It’s wrong and I’m aware, but I can’t change it, no matter how much I lie to myself.
Shutting off the blinker puts an end to the clicking as I park my car in the parking lot. My motions are automatic as I reach for both the umbrella and my purse before stepping out onto the wet asphalt. There’s only a bit of rain spitting from the skies, but with my hair newly done, I’m not risking a drop landing anywhere near me.
The whoosh and click of the umbrella opening amid the staccato of my heels is followed by my car door shutting as I search for Cody’s car.
A coffee date with my FBI agent lover two days after I came apart in my bed at the hands of a serial killer, I would imagine, is unique for the patrons of this diner.
It’s a cute place with cozy seating, located at the corner of a quaint street on the far end of town. Even the pastel blue sign that reads Pick Me Ups in a flowing script is adorable. It doesn’t fit the man I’m meeting or the relationship we have. Coffee is coffee, though, and this is far more casual than the dinner date he preferred and I turned down.
The second I spot Cody’s car, I know I should quicken my pace to get to him. I already told him I was running late, and I hate to keep him waiting. My limbs betrays me, though, and the thumping in my chest refuses to support my body’s need to move.
It’s almost like this moment is the same as the other night. I’m participating, but not really here. There’s space between and I’m merely observing.
The flesh and bones of my body are present and yet I’m only the shadow. Oh how easy it would be, if one could slink away and hide from reality that easily. But as I approach the black glass front doors and shake out the umbrella on the thick black welcome mat out front, I know all too well that I did what I did.
I just don’t know what Cody’s done, what he knows, or what I’m willing to tell him.
There’s more than what he’s willing to tell. Between coffee and small talk about scandal and murderers threatening me, I have to decide where Cody fits into all of this with far too limited information.
The door swings open and warmth hits my face while the delectable scent of coffee and citrus pastries swarms my lungs.
Black and white checkered floors, subway tiles and a long coffee bar with black leather stools give the place charm and a ’50s flair.
I didn’t even want to see his handsome face. I didn’t want those steely blue eyes to see right through me, but in this moment, when Cody’s gaze locks onto mine from