Code Blue

Lexi vs. Fireside Picnics

I was nervous and I didn’t know why. It was just a date with Max. I’d been on dates with Max before. In fact, at this point, we’d been on so many dates that I’d actually lost count. But it was definitely in the double digits.

The point was that we’d been dating for a long time. Or maybe it wasn’t really that long, but just long by my standards because it was the longest relationship I’d ever been in. Which I now realized was extremely sad, considering the circumstances.

Thinking I probably needed to save the analysis of my personal life for a later date, I knocked on the door, smiling widely when it swung open a few seconds later to reveal Max, dressed up a bit more than usual in a black blazer, white button up, and black jeans.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, leaning forward to kiss me quickly on the lips before stepping aside and gesturing for me to enter. “Come on in.”

Flashing him a smile, I stepped through the doorway and followed him to the living room to see that all of the furniture had been pushed aside. In the middle of the room in front of the fireplace, which was lit, despite the fact that it wasn’t at all cold out, a blanket was laid out on the wooden floor, beside which red rose petals were scattered. On top of the blanket was a wicker picnic basket, a bottle of wine, and two glasses.

 “Wow, Max,” I breathed out shakily, unable to believe that this had ever happened to anyone in real life. This was definitely romantic comedy material. “This is incredible.”

“Well, it’s our three-month anniversary, so I thought I’d make it special…,” he grinned, his smile faltering when he saw my eyes widen with horror. “What?”

I was truly an awful person. Max was being super sweet and romantic and I’d completely forgotten that it had been three months since our first date. I repeated his words in a shamed whisper. “It’s our anniversary.”

“You forgot?” He lifted his eyebrows in surprise and I couldn’t tell if he was upset.

Wincing apologetically, I sighed. “Maybe a little.”

The reason I’d forgotten was probably because I couldn’t believe it had been three months already. I’d done what Evan told me to do after the ball: I’d pretended that everything was back to normal. So Max and I dove deep into the throes of a new relationship. We went on dates and studied together and he helped me actually understand advanced microeconomics and we held hands as we walked around campus and sat cuddled up next to each other in booths in the dining hall and sometimes I forgot that it wasn’t real.

Or at least, it wasn’t supposed to be. But I did have feelings for Max and I knew that there would come a day when he no longer looked at me like I was holding his universe together, so I wanted to cherish what we had while it was good. Which meant that I wasn’t really keeping track of the amount of time we were spending together as much as I was just living from day to day.

Amazingly enough, he ended up laughing at my lapse in memory, leaning forward to kiss me again, as though I’d just told him exactly what he wanted to hear. “Come on, let’s get you a drink.”

We kicked off our shoes and sat with our legs stretched on the blanket, laughing and swapping stories about the craziest things we’d seen on campus as we ate Max’s homemade macaroni and cheese out of a large dish and sipped white wine. It all felt very grown up and intimate and occurred to me that I couldn’t remember a time before Max that I’d gone on a date where I’d enjoyed myself this much. And I hated that this moment, how I felt right now, couldn’t last forever.

“I hope you didn’t mind the food,” Max said once the dish was scraped clean and we were lying on the couch, our legs intertwined and my head resting on his chest as he absentmindedly played with my hair. “I’m not much of a cook.”

“I loved it,” I smiled against his chest, closing my eyes and allowing the sound of his heart beat to keep me calm and mellow and happy. “My mom used to make me this exact meal when I was having a bad day. Nothing produces happiness like super cheesy pasta.”

He laughed and I felt the vibrations course through my entire body. “Amazing. Does she still do that?”

“No,” I whispered. “My parents passed away when I was a teenager.”

I probably shouldn’t have told him that. Evan had created a backstory for me for a reason. After all, the entire point of being undercover was to avoid telling anyone any personal details. But I couldn’t help it. I felt comfortable around Max and I oddly trusted him and I was starting to realize how much trouble those feelings were going to get me in.

When this relationship went south – and it undoubtedly would, because I’d never heard of any couple surviving the ‘surprise I’m really a government agent trying to arrest your father’ revelation – Max knowing intimate details about me could end up being very dangerous. Especially if it turned out he wasn’t the guy I thought he was.

But for right now, he did sound genuinely concerned. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I sighed. My eyes fluttered open, but I didn’t lift my head to look at him. I couldn’t. I’d always hated the way people looked at me when they found out. Like I was a lost child in need of protection and guidance. “You didn’t know.”

There was a moment of silence and I already knew what he was going to say next. “Do you mind if I ask how…?”

“Car crash,” I replied immediately. Although I still missed my parents on a daily basis, talking about them didn’t hurt so much anymore. It was more just uncomfortable because I didn’t like people feeling sorry for me.

His follow up surprised me. “I’m sure they’d be proud of you.”

“I’m not so sure,” I admitted, tracing a finger up and down his chest.

I felt him tense beneath my touch. “Why not?”

This was a topic I’d thought a lot about but never actually vocalized. Mostly because no one had ever bothered to bring it up before. Everybody always assumed that I wouldn’t want to talk about my parents because it would make me too sad and the people at the agency just flat out didn’t care about my personal life, so any trepidations I’ve had about the way I’ve lived my life after my parents’ passing has been kept internal.

It’s nice to finally have the chance to say something about it. “They always told me that I could change the world and when they died, I decided that I was going to do just that,” I said, feeling knots of guilt tighten in my stomach. “But I don’t think I have.”

I’d often wondered what my parents would think about my current job. Whether they’d think I was brave and courageous and fighting for justice, or whether they’d think that what I did was all lies and deceit and wrong in every way.

Granted, if they were around, I would never have been recruited in the first place, and that was an even more terrifying thought. Because who was I, if not a secret agent? Who was Lexi Dupont as a person, standing completely on her own? The truth was that I had no idea what I wanted out of life. Maybe Max and I had more in common than I thought.

“Not yet,” he assured me, squeezing my shoulder lightly. “The world can’t change overnight.”

“I guess not,” I murmured. Logically, I knew he was right and that maybe I just needed to be patient, but I still couldn’t help but feel like there was more I should be doing.

“If it helps, you’ve changed my world.”

I lifted my head from his chest so that I can look him in the eyes, unable to help the laugh which escaped my lips. “You’re seriously corny, you know that, right?”

Despite my response, his words made my heart swell with happiness because it was nice to know that I’d had a positive impact on his life. And I wanted to tell him how much he’d changed me, but I couldn’t, because I’d be digging myself even deeper into a hole that I already knew I was going to have a hard time getting out of.

So I settled for kissing him. Leaning in, I pressed my lips against his and hoped he could feel everything I felt but could never get up the nerve to say. His arms encircled me, pulling me into his chest and I flattened my hand against his collarbone and pushed my palm upwards until I could tangle my fingers in his hair.

Our kisses soon went from sweet and sensual to long and deep and passionate, our breathing becoming slow and our hearts beating in time. I could feel him surrounding me; his warmth and his adoration, and it made me feel safer and more loved than I’d ever felt in my entire life and that’s when the buzzing in my veins began. It started in my toes, swirling up my legs and through my core until it reached the outer most nerves of my fingertips and I realized that I had to make it stop.

It took every ounce of willpower in my bones, but I pulled my lips away from his and whispered shakily, “I should go.”

“You can stay if you want,” he murmured, leaning forward trying to kiss me again.

“I do want,” I admitted. And that was exactly the problem. I wanted him with every drop of blood in my veins. “But I shouldn’t. Not tonight. But soon, I promise.”

I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t a promise I could or should keep. We hadn’t slept together because I’d never let it get that far, more for my sake than for his. I’d already allowed myself to become much too emotionally attached to him and I was afraid if we got that physical that I’d never recover.

I could tell he was a little disappointed, but he seemed to understand, exhaling deeply and nodding. “Okay. I’ll walk you home.”

“That’s okay,” I said, rolling off the couch to create some distance between us and hopefully slow the beating of my heart and clear the haze in my brain. “I can make it back by myself.”

“You sure?” he frowned, swinging his feet to the floor and watching as I slipped into my shoes and found my purse. “I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine, Max,” I assured him. I could definitely use the time alone to clear my head and get a grip on my emotions.

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he didn’t push the issue, standing up straight and following me towards the front door. “Okay, well, text me when you get to your room.”

“Will do,” I smiled and turned to face him once he’d pulled the door open, flattening my palms against his chest and kissing him quickly on the lips. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, baby,” he whispered as I stepped out onto the walkway.

He stayed in the open doorway until I turned the corner down the street that would lead me back to campus and I let out a sigh of relief once I was alone, silently congratulating myself on not doing something I’d ultimately end up regretting. I dug my phone from my purse to check my messages, noting that I have a text from Evan.

The numbers/letters mean something.

Out of context, those words are vague as hell, but I soon remember the number and letter combinations I’d seen on the paper on Daniel’s desk. After he’d written them down, Evan had them sent to the agency’s top analysts to see if they could figure out what connection they had to the Stafford crime syndicate. It was kind of exciting to know that something I discovered might actually be important to the mission.

Smiling, I exited out of my messages to call Evan and get more information, but before I could find his number on speed dial, something was covering my nose and mouth and a few seconds later, everything went black.