Page 89 of Stroked Long
Chasing after Bodi, I meet him at his truck. The bags are loaded, and he’s holding the door open for me. He holds out his hand to help me in but I cross my arms over my chest instead and stare him down.
“What was that?”
He actually looks shocked. His eyes widen, he shifts his stance, and his hand rubs the back of his neck. “What was what?”
“Bodi, you can’t tell me that you don’t realize what you did back there? You completely shut off, snapped at poor Clark, and then stormed out of the store without even getting your change. At least Clark will have some money to get his Crunch Wrap Supreme from Taco Bell tonight.”
He doesn’t say anything, just continues to rub the back of his neck and avert his eyes.
“Hey.” I poke him in the stomach. “Bodi, I’m not mad at you. I just want you to talk to me.”
Sighing, he says, “Can we talk about this in the truck?”
Knowing he’s a private person, I don’t put up a fight. I allow him to help me into his truck and wait for him to climb in on his side.
Turning toward me, he grabs my hand and links our fingers together. “You’re too good.”
“What?” I ask, slightly confused.
“You’re too good for me, Rubes.” With the hand that’s not holding mine, he pulls on the bill of his hat, clearly struggling with his words. “You have everything in place in your life, you know. You’re a do-gooder, people love talking to you, hell, you stay late at work just to help kids color between the lines. You’re sweet, caring, kind, easy to talk to, and a fucking ball of sunshine.”
“Should I take that as a compliment?”
“Yes.” Pulling on his hat some more, he mutters, “Fuck.” Sighing once more, he looks up at me with what looks like desperation in his expression. “Hearing you talk about buying yarn so you can spend your nights knitting for Special Olympic athletes . . . fuck, Ruby, you make me feel inferior.” He’s not mad; his voice isn’t angry whatsoever. He’s more pensive.
“I make you feel inferior. Uh hello, Mr. Gold Medals.”
“That’s not—”
I stop him before he can finish his sentence. “Bodi, you do more for the community than anyone I know.” The man does not understand his worth. “Has it become so routine that you’ve forgotten everything you do? Have you forgotten the countless hours you spend at the club, teaching kids how to swim? Have you forgotten all the hours you’ve spent working on the foundation, the money you’ve donated to different scholarships? Have you become so accustomed to those weekly random acts of kindness that you can’t see the good in them anymore?”
He bites his bottom lip, not seductively, no, in a little boyish charm kind of way that melts me right on the spot. “I guess it has,” he answers honestly.
Squeezing his hand, I try to reinforce his character so he gets it through his head. “You’re a good man, Bodi. Don’t downplay your character because you’ve forgotten who you are.”
He nods and those blue eyes peer up at me from under the shadow of his brim. A tiny smirk crosses his face. “Maybe you can teach me how to knit so I can help you with some of those scarves.”
I try not to laugh, but it happens anyway. The image of big, muscular Bodi holding some knitting needles is too much of an image to handle.
“What’s so funny?” He pokes me, and the light in his voice makes my heart sigh.The man is simply too adorable.
“You want to learn how to knit?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, why not? It’s better than sitting around watching senseless television. At least I would be doing something for someone other than myself.”
“And here you felt inferior. It’s thoughts like those that make you the amazing man you are.”
Rolling his eyes, clearly unable to take a compliment, he asks, “Want to go out to dinner or take something back to your place?”
“Are you coming over?” I tease. “I was unaware. Not sure if my place is ready for visitors.”
Glancing over at me, I see a different expression again. The man’s mercurial mood strikes again.SexyBodi is irresistible. “Yes, I’m coming over, and I plan on making you come on my tongue at least twice tonight.”
Sweet Jesus, my thighs are quaking.MyBodi Bear is back.
***
“There is no way you can sing.”
