Chapter 25: Smart Girls Can't Keep Their Hands To Themselves

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Sorry, I can't think of a song for this chapter!

Marley

"God...Bodie...just...no means no, okay!?!?!"

"I don't take no for an answer on a good day, much less a day I'm feeling edgy as fuck!" he spits at me, close on my heels as I maneuver through the kitchen of his new house.

Bodie follows me into the garage. I stab the garage door button to open the door. He presses it to reclose and stands in front of the button.

I stomp my foot. "Goddammit Bodie! You are acting like I child. I need to go. I have to do this..."

"Yes, but you aren't doin' it alone!" he snaps. "Look, there's no fuckin' way I'm letting you go over there and gang up on you two to one."

Actually, it's likely to be four to one, with Darius weighing in, but I don't say that. Instead I give Bodie a bright fake smile. "Three to one. Daemon's coming, too."

"Why the fuck is he comin'!?!?" Bodie's newly washed dreads swing as he makes an emphatic shake of frustration.

"Because he's Darius' father, remember?" I spit back. I meant to sound firm, but instead, I sound slightly hysterical.

Bodie's angry posture relaxes. He flows down the garage steps and takes me by the shoulders. Both our heads are bent, both our souls bent in sorrow, at the pretense I'm insisting we keep up.

"I remember, Marley. I'm not going to bust out with the truth in the middle of dinner. How would that be good for Darius? Look, I just want to be there to have your back. Jesus, don't you trust me at all?"

I search his beautiful eyes that look like burnished copper when he's upset. I can't bring myself to say the truth.

No, I don't trust him. He's not stable right now. He's four days into methadone treatment. He's barely on top of the physical transition. He's struggling to eat. He's fatigued. He's easily irritated.

But he's Darius' father. He knows it, and I know it, even if the Turner's don't know it. Leaving him out of this seems would be setting a precedent.

A precedent I'm not willing to set.

"Look, if you come, you have to promise me you will keep your cool. You have to promise me you won't say or do anything that goes anywhere close to questioning who Darius' father is..."

"I'll be cool as ice. Silent as the grave. I swear," he says, his hands coming automatically to cup my head as he gives me a light kiss on the forehead.

I sigh in exasperation. The feel of his lips brushing my skin is way too nice.

And completely out of bounds.

Of course, we haven't really had the professional boundaries discussion. Not really. Bodie's not dumb—he knows what me being employed at Emsworth Agency means without me having to spell it out.

Or so I thought.

I step back. "Bodie—"

He holds his hands up in surrender. "I know. Sorry."

I nod briefly, and step to move around. I hear him mumble beneath his breath. "Not sorry."

"Bodie!"

My hand goes to whack his peck but with those lightening fast drummer hands he traps my fingers beneath his. "Don't touch me if you don't want to be touched, Dr. Watkins," he says mildly, keeping hold of my hand.

I avoid his eyes, staring at the connection of our hands.

I can feel his heart thundering.

My irritation melts.

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