Starting From Somewhere (Starting From 4)

And that was my cue.

I retraced my steps, moving against the flow of the crowd as I made my way toward the exit. I ducked my head when I spotted Justin with Declan and Tegan. I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to make small talk or pretend I was okay. I wasn’t. And I needed space to figure out why.

The warm summer breeze felt refreshing on my sweaty skin. Ugh. Did I have to turn into a human slime ball when I got nervous? I sucked in a cleansing breath and pulled my cell out to call for a ride as I moved around the corner.

“Cody!”

Oh, no. I picked up my pace. My heart was in my throat, and my stomach churned unhappily.

“Cody, stop!”

I froze. But I didn’t turn around.

A strong hand tugged at my elbow and led me out of the way of pedestrians to an empty bit of real estate on the far side of the building.

“Talk to me, Cody. Please.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “It was warm. I needed air.”

Bobby J leaned his shoulder on the wall beside me. My mind was already halfway home, my hands shook, and my feet felt itchy in my loafers. And who wore a Hawaiian shirt, khakis, and loafers to a rock concert? I couldn’t have looked more out of place if I’d tried. Clothes didn’t matter. I knew that. They were just symbolic of the great divide between Bobby J and me.

I understood the med school dropout with anxiety obsessively striving to make a place for himself in a new medium. I understood his phobias and fears. And though I admired his courage and self-confidence, I didn’t understand his world. A two-month stint interning at a record label on the rise couldn’t transform me into someone who casually flitted between research labs and rock concerts. I didn’t belong here. My time was up.

“Cody…”

I opened my mouth, hoping all the right words fell into place. That was not what happened. To my utter horror, a lone tear fell down my cheek. I brushed it away quickly and tried a smile that probably looked frightening as hell.

Bobby J pulled me into his arms, swaying gently. “Shh. I’m here. It’s okay.”

I pushed at his chest and gave him a watery smile. “I know. I’m…”

“Tell me. I can’t fix it unless you tell me. Was it the girl, the band, the crowd?” He narrowed his eyes. “It was the glasses, huh?”

I choked out a half laugh and shook my head. “No, it’s…it’s me.”

He brushed his thumb across my cheek, then tilted my chin in that sweet familiar way of his. “How so?”

“This isn’t my place,” I whispered. “I always knew it. I was only supposed to observe, not dive in and I—I don’t belong.”

“Who told you that?” he asked as if he were about to kick ass.

“No one. It’s just…obvious. I’m not your people.”

He rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “You’re exactly my people. I’m kind of crazy about you.”

I sniffed noisily. “I’m crazy about you too. I think you’re…amazing and cool and smart and talented and…”

“Good in bed,” he supplied.

I nodded, smiling through a veil of tears. “Yes. Definitely.”

“So are you.”

“Bobby, I—” I licked my lips nervously. “I ruined the experiment. I was supposed to watch and gather information from the sidelines. I was supposed to check off lists and make observations. Originally, I was data-collecting for my friends. If I’d stuck to the program, maybe I wouldn’t be here now. The second I put myself into the equation, I screwed up the data and fell for my subject. Such a rookie move.”

“You fell for me?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I’ll talk to Charlie in the morning. I’ll give him my resignation and—why are you laughing?”

Bobby J tried and failed to contain his wide grin. “I love you.”

“What?”

“I love you. You’re a smart dude. I thought you figured it out already. I should have said the words sooner, but they’re kinda scary, you know?”

“Uh, yeah, but…”

“No buts.” He raised his hand like a stop sign before I could protest. “I’ve learned a few things over the past few years. And since I’ve met you, it’s all come together for me. See, I know I’m smart, but I know intelligence isn’t always enough. And I know I’m talented. I can play the fuck out of a guitar and make people laugh, dance, sing, and be happy. But that isn’t enough either. It leaves me thinking that all the brains and musical gifts in the world will never quiet the paralyzing doubt. When I’m with you…that goes away. The doubt, the worry, the fear, the constant need to prove myself fades. Suddenly, I’m king of the fuckin’ world, and you know what?”

“What?”

“I belong.”

“Of course, you belong.”

“No, I mean that in a way only you understand.” He frowned at my confused look and snapped his fingers. “What’s the definition of belonging?”