friends //cody bellinger

thirty six

People are coming to the house today to have a sit-down interview with Cody and me. I'm not excited for it, but the lawyers said that the outside world seeing our relationship in that way would be good for us.

"Does this look fine?" I ask Cody, turning towards him so he can be the judge of the flowy baby blue sundress I had on.

He looks at me and raises his eyebrows. "I don't know, do a twirl real quick." He extends his hand, and I take it, spinning around once. "I was lying, you've looked good the whole time I just wanted to see you do that."

My cheeks flush red, and I look away, so he doesn't see. I've spent eight months with this boy, and he still manages to make me feel butterflies everytime he compliments me.

My hand still in his, he pulls me closer to him and catches his lips with mine.

I take my other hand and put it on his face, pulling away and looking up at the man in front of me. I move my thumb along the rough of his beard. Even though he shaved last night, the stubble he has is already closer to the beginning of a beard.

He looks down into my eyes, "What's going on through that pretty little mind?" He asks, using his other hand and holding it over the one I had on his cheek.

"They're taking you away from me again," I frown, knowing that come tomorrow morning, the only time I'd see my fiance is behind glass or from the gallery at court for who knows how long.

Cody sighs and looks away because, after yesterday, he knows that there's no way to take my mind off the fact that today's our last day together for a while.

"Tonight, okay? We'll talk about that later tonight. Just focus on us right now, Em. It's only us today babe."

Before I can respond, he closes the gap between us again. He starts leaving kisses down my jaw, his facial hair scratching me and reminding me of the fact that this boy defiantly needs to shave before we sit down for this interview.

I push him away, laughing at the face he makes when I do so.

"You need to shave before the people get here."

He rolls his eyes, and I chuckle. This boy absolutely hates shaving.

"Come on," I tell him, grabbing his hand and leading him to our bathroom. He already has his nice shirt on so I unbutton it, folding it and setting it off to the side so none of his hair would fall on it.

I hop onto to the counter and sit criss-cross applesauce style. I grab the shaving cream and squirt a huge pile into my hand, lathering it before spreading it over his cheeks, chin, and neck. I wet the razor before carefully running it against the grain of his hair.

It's the small but intimate moments like this that make me fall in love all over again.

I'm not sure how long it took, but I finally finish his neck and his beard, and now I'm working on the smallest bit of a mustache he has grown in. "Bring your lips down," I say, realizing it made no sense yet somehow he still knew exactly what I mean.

I'm careful not to leave any nicks on his handsome face because as manly as he loves to tell people he is, he's a big baby when it comes to small things like cuts or burns.

I finally finish, wiping off my hands before coating them yet again, this time with aftershave gel. I smear a light layer over his face and rubbing it in.

I bring my lips to his, and he mumbles a small "thank you" across them.

He pulls my arms up, so they're around his neck before resting his hands on my thighs. "You know I love you right?" I nod, and he continues.