To everyone in Oceanside, Iâm Craig Codyâs girl â the wild one, the ride-or-die, the one who knows how to keep up with the Cody chaos. But what they donât know⌠is that when the lights go out and the world quiets down, itâs his older brother Iâm craving.
Andrew âPopeâ Cody.
Dangerous. Unstable. Off-limits.
And so goddamn addictive.
It started as a mistake.
A stolen kiss in the shadows.
A rough touch behind closed doors.
A secret we swore weâd never repeat â but we did. Again, and again.
With every secret meeting, every whispered threat, every night tangled in his sheets, Pope is pulling me deeper into his darkness. And Iâm not sure I ever want to find my way out.
I shouldnât be here.
Not in this room. Not under him. Not gasping his name like itâs a sin I want branded on my skin.
âSay it,â Pope growls, his breath hot against my neck, his grip bruising my hips.
I bite my lip, trying to hold on â to loyalty, to reason, to Craig. But none of that exists when Pope touches me like this.
âYours,â I whisper, breaking apart in his hands.
He smirks, dark and possessive. âDamn right you are.â
And just like that, Iâm lost again.
Because when Pope Cody wants somethingâŚ
He doesnât share.
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All Right Now (Series)-- FINISHED!
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Epilogue
The Cody house always smells like salt air and danger.
Like money earned from blood and adrenaline, with just enough charm to convince the world otherwise. Itâs the kind of house that should be suffocating, but instead, it feels like a warped sort of freedom. The kind of freedom that comes at the cost of everything else.
Iâm Craigâs girl. Been that way for almost a year now.
The one who flashes his smile and makes you forget every fucked up thing youâve ever done just to stay close to him. Heâs got that magnetic charm, that reckless edge that makes him dangerous without even trying. You should feel lucky when youâre in his orbit. People do. And I should feel lucky, too.
I should feel happy.
But I donât.
I donât because of his brother.
Craig was high that night â loud, reckless, tossing back drinks like he could swallow his demons with enough tequila. He threw a party, threw his body into the chaos like it could make him forget about the shit inside him. It never worked. Nothing ever worked for him. But thatâs the game he played â the loud, confident one, living his life like it was some kind of show, never letting anyone see behind the mask.
And then there was Pope.
Always in the background.
A shadow against the wall, eyes sharp, cutting through the noise. He was quieter, darker, like the storm rolling in before the lightning strikes. Watching, always watching.
I could feel the pull of it even before I realized what I was doing.
I shouldâve left. I shouldâve stayed with Craig, danced around the loud music, pretended like everything was fine.
But Pope â he had this presence about him. Not the kind you could ignore, even if you tried.
I donât even remember what I said to him that night. Something stupid. Something meant to fill the silence.
Maybe it was the way his eyes never left mine, or how everything around me felt like it was fading into the background, too insignificant to matter. He didnât answer me right away. Instead, he took a step closer, closing the space between us like it was meant to happen, like it was always going to happen.
Then, his hand was on my arm. Rough. Unyielding.
But not cruel. No, never that. It was like steel wrapped in silk. Solid, demanding, but with an edge that said heâd never hurt me â just control me.
His touch was enough to make everything else disappear. The party. The noise. Craig, even. For a second, it was like it was just me and him, standing there in the storm of this house, something dark stirring between us.
Thatâs when it snapped.
I didnât think. I didnât second-guess myself.
I kissed him.
I didnât care about the consequences, the fact that he was his brother, that I was with Craig. None of it mattered. In that moment, it was just me and him, and I needed him more than I could understand.
His lips were fire against mine. Hard. Demanding. Like he was trying to burn something out of me, something that had been locked away for far too long.
He kissed me back.
Not because he wanted to steal something from Craig, no.
It wasnât about revenge or anger.
It was just about the raw, dangerous need that had been building in both of us for longer than either of us cared to admit.
And that was it.
I shouldâve stopped. I shouldâve pulled away, pushed him off, screamed for Craig to come back, to pull me out of this mess. But the thing about Pope is â he makes you feel like youâre his only air. Like nothing else exists beyond the press of his mouth, the way his hands moved over me like he had to memorize the feel of my skin. His breath, warm and ragged, mingling with mine.
It wasnât gentle. It wasnât soft. It was something too jagged to name, something too dangerous to let happen, but I couldnât stop.
I didnât want to.
I let him.
I let him in a way Iâd never let anyone else.
Because Pope made me feel alive in a way Craig never had. He made me feel like I mattered. Like I wasnât just the girl on his arm, the one who flashed a pretty smile to keep people at bay.
With Pope, there was no pretending. No faking it.
And in that moment, in the dark corner of this house that smelled like salt and sin, I let myself drown in it. Let myself drown in him.
When we finally pulled apart â breathless, hearts pounding, shaking like weâd just stepped off the edge of a cliff â it didnât matter that I knew what I was doing was wrong.
It didnât matter that I was betraying Craig, that I was betraying everything I thought I stood for. Because Pope made it feel like it was the only thing I could do. The only thing that made sense.
Craig was out back, laughing with Deran, beers in hand. The glow of the pool lights cast shadows across the yard, music thumping low from the speakers.
âIâm gonna grab a drink,â I told Craig, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
âBring me another beer, babe,â he grinned, not even glancing my way.
I made my way inside, heart thudding too fast, because I wasnât going for a drink.
I was going to him.
Pope was in the garage, working on one of the bikes. Grease-stained hands, face half in shadow. He didnât look up when I came in, but I knew he felt me there. He always did.
âSomeoneâs gonna see,â I said, though my feet kept moving toward him.
âNo oneâs looking,â he murmured, his voice a dark scrape, his eyes flicking up to mine. âExcept me.â
And then his hands were on my hips, hauling me closer, like he couldnât stand the space between us.
His kiss was rough. Desperate. It tasted like gasoline and danger and something I couldnât name. Every time felt like it might be the last.
âI canât keep doing this,â I whispered, though my arms stayed wrapped around his neck.
âYes, you can,â he said, breath hot against my skin. âYou always do.â
And God help me, he was right.
I pressed my lips to his, losing myself in the storm of it, the way he made me feel like I was both sinner and salvation.
We didnât have long. We never did.
But a few stolen minutes in the shadows was better than nothing.
Because out there, I belonged to Craig.
But in here â in Popeâs arms â I was something else entirely.
And I wasnât ready to give it up.
âWhereâd you disappear to last night, babe?â Craig murmured, voice rough from sleep and whiskey.
I stood by the sink, pouring black coffee I didnât even want, trying to still my hands.
âCouldnât sleep. Took a drive.â
Took a man to bed who isnât you.
Craig came up behind me, hands sliding around my waist, lips brushing my neck. His touch shouldâve made my skin tingle, but instead, I flinched.
âYouâve been⌠restless lately,â he said, tone light, but something sharp curled beneath the words.
I turned in his arms, forcing a smile. âGuess I just need you to wear me out more.â
He grinned, but it didnât quite reach his eyes.
I kissed him anyway.
Hard. Deep.
Trying to cover Popeâs fingerprints with Craigâs mouth.
But no matter how rough Craig touched me, it didnât chase the other manâs ghost away.
