by Aly Martinez
I twisted my lips and arched an eyebrow. “Mom, don’t even pretend that you know who the hell Levee Williams is.”
“No. But I’d like to know now that my son is sending her crotch shots!”
I barked a laugh and threw my hands out to my sides. “It was just my abs! And, for the love of God, stop saying crotch.”
She narrowed her eyes then very slowly enunciated each letter as she said, “Crotch.”
Even as she continued to glare at me, I couldn’t help but laugh, and because she was crazy in the best possible way, she did too.
When we both sobered, she went right back to the serious. “All right. Tell me about this Levee girl.”
“I’m not supposed to talk about this, Mom. I need to call Meg and tell her to shut her mouth.”
I was fucking smitten, and if I’d had my way, I would have told the world.
However, I was smitten with Levee Williams, so the world would have to wait until she was ready to tell them. It sucked, but whether people knew or not didn’t change our relationship.
She was still mine.
I smiled to myself, and I knew that my mom saw it when she laughed.
“Don’t think I’m letting this go. I Googled her. She’s a kind of a big deal.”
I’d told Levee that we’d keep things quiet for a while, but my mom was safe. Right?
“I guess. I mean, she’s not that famous. She’s never done a duet with Lionel Richie or anything,” I teased, knowing the distracting effect it would have on my mom.
Her eyes grew wide at the mere mention of his name. “Do you think she knows Lionel?”
I slung an arm around her shoulders. “I doubt it, but if it will stop the inquisition, I’d be happy to ask for you.”
“No, you are going to ask her because you know I’m obsessed with that man. The inquisition will most definitely continue. Tell me about her. Are you two serious?” She tugged on my arm until I followed her to our old dining room table, which I’d been using as my desk for the last few years. I’d never even taken the time to refurbish it. Or, more accurately, I didn’t want to change it. Dad had built that table. Even repurposing it felt wrong.
I settled on the wooden stool next to her. “We haven’t been dating long, but I think it might become serious.”
I’m in love with her.
Fuck.
“Nice girl?”
“I really think you’d like her.”
“Well, I can’t like her any less than I did that last one. What was her name again?”
“Lexi.”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice and mumbled to herself, “I hated that bitch.”
“Mom!” I scolded on a laugh.
“I’m sorry. She was”—she exaggerated a shiver—“toxic.”
“She wasn’t that bad… Well, not all the time. But yes, Levee is definitely better. She’s so funny.” I glanced away, smiling as I remembered her laugh. “And smart. She’s not at all who you’d expect her to be. She’s really down-to-earth and kind.”
I scrubbed my hands over my jeans, wishing Levee weren’t so far away. How the hell was I going to go a month without that woman? I looked back up to find my mom watching me with a gentle smile.
“She’s amazing,” I breathed.
Her smile grew. “I already like her, then.” She patted my leg, squeezing it firmly before asking, “How’d you meet Miss Fancy Pants?”
I scratched the back of my neck. Shit. I’d known that this question would eventually come up, and while I hated to lie to my mom, there was no fucking way I was telling her the truth. She would have freaked if she knew how I’d really met Levee.
Evade.
“We…umm, frequent one of the same places. I saw her a couple times before I got the nerve to talk to her.” After the partial truth, I decided to switch gears and distract her with humor. Waving my hands over my chest, I said, “I mean, no way she could resist all this.” I threw in a bicep curl for good measure.
“Oh, please. Put those wet noodles away. I saw a picture online of her with her ex-boyfriend. All I’m going to say is you’re lucky you got my sense of humor.”
“Wait? Who’s her ex-boyfriend?”
“I can’t remember his name. One of those big football players.” She waggled her eyebrows while fanning herself.
I wanted to gag—then Google this guy. “Gross!”
She laughed, pushing to her feet. “Okay, well, I have to get back to work. Bring Levee over for dinner sometime.”
“Okay, Ma.”
She gave me a quick hug then headed for the door. “I’ll see you later. Don’t forget what I said about those crotch shots.”
That time, I really did gag.
I was sitting outside on my porch swing with a cigarette burning between my fingers and Sampson at my side when my phone finally rang.
“Hello,” I answered, thrilled to hear Levee laughing on the other end.
“On the first ring? Really, Sam? You couldn’t even make it look like you weren’t holding your phone.”
“Laugh it up, Designer Shoes. I was only holding my phone because I was reporting a video montage on YouTube of you tripping and falling.”
She groaned. “Oh, God. Please tell me you’re lying.”
“Nope.” I popped the P at the end. “User HenryisMine7765 set it to a lovely remix of Henry’s song ‘Goodbye, Lover.’”
“Great,” she huffed. “So many of his fans think I’m their competition. You have no idea how many of those videos there are out there.”
“Ohhhh, after the last few hours, I have a pretty good idea. Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. I reported all of them,” I stated proudly.
“You’re too good to me,” she whispered teasingly in a tone that made me miss her that much more.
“Nah. I’m not that great. I watched them all first.” I put the cigarette out and headed back inside, ready to sink into my bed and keep Levee for whatever time she was willing to give me.
“Well, I forgive you.”
“Good, because some of them, I watched twice,” I admitted. Then I quickly amended, “But it was only because I liked the way your boobs bounced when you jumped back up.”
She laughed, and it forced a smile to my face.
“I guess I can’t be mad about that now, can I? So, how did you end up watching YouTube videos of me?”
“It started earlier when, against my better judgment, I looked up pictures of you with Thomas Reigns. I have to say I’m feeling a little inadequate now.”
“Oh, whatever. Your cock is way bigger than his.”
“Aaaannnnd…now I feel better. Thank you.”
She laughed again, and as I crawled into bed, I closed my eyes and got lost in the musical sound.
“It must be nice to be able to look up everything you want to know about me. I want to be able to search your past.”
“All right. Let’s level out the playing field. If there were a computer in front of you right now, what would you type into the search bar?”
“Ummm, I don’t know. When was your last relationship?”
“We broke up about two months ago, but we hadn’t really been together since Anne died. She’s a nice enough girl, even though my mom called her a bitch today.” I chuckled at the memory.
“What?” she half gasped, half laughed.
“Yeah, so, apparently, Meg called and told Mom we were dating. She stopped by for an interrogation.”
“Oh shit. Did you tell her the truth?”
“Uhhh…” I mumbled, trying to buy myself some more time. “She’s my mom, Levee. I swear she won’t tell anyone.”
Hesitance colored her voice, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. “Well, what did she say about us seeing each other?”
“Nothing really. She’s cool with it. Oh! She made me promise to ask if you know Lionel Richie.”
“Actually, I kinda do. I did a collaboration with him at an awards show a couple years ago.”
“Okay,
well, I’m going to lie and tell her you don’t.”
“Why? I know his agent. I could probably get him to sign some stuff for her.”
“Because my mother is an incredible woman and mom, but when it comes to Lionel, she loses her ever-loving mind. You do not want to be the only person standing between her and that man.”
“Shut up. Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately, I am. When you get back, I’ll have her break out the photo album. I was Lionel for Halloween every year until I was six. I’m pretty sure she would have named me after him if my dad hadn’t stopped her.”
“Oh. My. God. I need those pictures. ASAP.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Now, what else do you want to know?” I sucked a deep breath in through my teeth, anxiously awaiting her next question.
“Are you smoking?”
“No. I’m in bed, actually.”
“Is it too soon for me to ask you to quit?”
“Too soon to ask? No. Too soon to expect me to follow through? Yes. But you’ll be happy to know my mom also chewed my ass out today and made me swear that I’d quit.”
“I’m gonna need your mom’s address,” she rushed out excitedly.
“For what?”
“Because, if she actually gets you to quit, I’m going to figure out a way to get Lionel Richie to personally deliver her flowers.”
I barked a laugh. “Please don’t do that. She’d either die of a heart attack or end up in jail for refusing to let him leave.”
She giggled then sighed, “I wish I were with you right now.”
“Me too,” I breathed. God, did I wish that too. But harping on it wouldn’t help her. So I changed the subject. “Well, at least you got your phone back. Did you get my beer picture earlier?”
“I did. It’s my home screen now. It’s also the reason I missed dinner because I was busy in the shower.”
I practically choked on my tongue. She giggled as I coughed.
“Reallllly?” I drawled.
“Really,” she whispered on a moan. “It wasn’t as good as one of our showers. My hands were too soft, but they’ll have to do for the next few weeks.”
My cock swelled in my jeans at the idea of Levee’s fingers playing between her legs while images of my body danced through her head. It guaranteed I’d probably miss dinner in lieu of a long shower tonight too. It also guaranteed that sit-ups and a new gym membership would be happening tomorrow.
“You have to stop,” I growled. “Or keep going in a lot more detail. Your call.”
She softly giggled. “Can I ask you something?”
I adjusted my cock and, much to my dismay, assumed she was stopping. “Anything.”
“Why do you sometimes pick up your cigarette butts and sometimes you leave them on the ground?”
My stomach dropped, and I shifted to my side on the bed, staring into the blank space where Levee had spent only one night, though it would forever be her side.
“Anne,” I answered shortly. I was going to need to elaborate, but it would take a second to speak around the lump in my throat.
“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m sorry.”
I swallowed hard. “After one of her episodes, she and my mom had a falling out, so Anne moved in with me.”
“Sam, you really don’t have to answer. I didn’t know.”
“No. It’s okay. I don’t mind. So…anyway…Anne moved in with me, and it was really nice, actually. I enjoyed having her around, and it gave my mom a much-needed break after having spent her life caring for people. It made me feel good that I was helping, and it gave me peace of mind that Anne was safe. Anyway, she hated that I smoked. So, one day, while we were at a thrift store, picking up a few pieces for the shop, she found one of those old skeletons that they use in health class. I should have known by the gleam in her eye that it wasn’t going to be good for me, but I bought it anyway.”
I shook my head and smiled at the memory. “When we got home, she took it to my shop and covered the chest cavity in mesh then dumped the contents of my ashtray inside it. She was so fucking proud of herself. She even went so far as to name that damn thing Herman.” I chuckled, but Levee was so quiet that I had to pull the phone away from my ear to make sure I hadn’t lost the call. “You still there?”
“Yeah. I’m here.”
I heard her moving around. “Did you just get in bed?”
“Yeah, but like the shower, it’s a poor excuse for yours.” She sighed. “Keep going I want to hear the rest of this. I mean…if you still want to tell me.”
“Levee, I’ll tell you anything you want to know as long as it means you’re with me to keep asking.”
“I’ll have my attorney send over the copyright release on that one too.”
“When should I expect my royalties to hit the bank?” I teased.
“I pay in sexual favors.”
I could almost envision the mischievous twinkle in her whiskey-colored eyes. God, I wanted to see her smile.
Suddenly, I got an idea. “Why are we talking on the phone?”
“Uhh…do you need to go?”
“No! That’s not what I mean. Hang on.” I pulled my phone away from my ear and pressed the button for FaceTime. It went unanswered. I put it back to my ear. “Are you gonna pick up?”
“Have you lost your mind!” she shrieked. “You can’t spring a video chat on a girl! I look like shit.”
“Answer the damn call, Levee.”
“No! I’m serious. I didn’t do my hair when I got out of the shower. I look like an ungroomed poodle. Plus, I can’t even find half of my makeup. There is no way I’m giving you that visual of me while I’m gone for the next month.”
“Levee, I’ve seen you crying with makeup running down your face, asleep and drooling in a car, and with sex mats covering your head. I still wanted to fuck you senseless. I don’t care what the hell you look like right now. Answer the damn phone!”
“Nerp. Not happening. I’ll fix myself up tomorrow.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I bit out in frustration.
“Trust me, this isn’t exactly easy on me. I can’t even remember what you look like. I vaguely remember you being somewhat attractive, but I’m not completely sure. I don’t even have a picture of you.”
“And you’re not going to get one, either,” I lied. I was going to blow up her phone with pictures of me until she sent me one of her. Sure, I could have found a million images of Levee on the Internet, but I really just wanted one of my Designer Shoes.
“Can we please just get back to your story? I’m dying to know about this skeleton.”
I let out a huff, grabbed my laptop off the nightstand, and pulled up Photoshop. “So, after she covered Herman in mesh, she rolled him onto my porch with a huge smile on her face. I couldn’t even argue with her when she declared that, when the skeletons lungs were filled with cigarettes, so were mine. She made me promise to collect all of my butts and deposit them in Herman, and when his chest was full, I had to quit smoking. It was a big chest, so I agreed. I got into the habit of keeping all of my butts and giving them to her at the end of each night.” My heart sped, and my hands, which had been furiously moving over my laptop, froze. “Sometimes I forget she’s gone and I still collect them.”
“Sam,” Levee breathed. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I like talking about her sometimes. I miss her a lot.”
I heard her shifting again, and I tried to imagine her beside me as I worked on my laptop. I had it so fucking bad for this woman.
“I bet she was beautiful.”
“She really was.” I sucked in a deep breath and smiled through the pain. It wasn’t so overwhelming with Levee. And, if I hadn’t already been falling for this amazing woman, that fact alone would have had me jumping in headfirst. “Anyway…anything else you want to know?”
“What’d you have for dinner?” she asked randomly.
“Dinner?”
“Yeah. I’m starving. Someone, who s
hall remain nameless, forced me to miss dinner with his sexy stomach, remember?” She giggled.
And with that, the pain disappeared completely.
I WAS LIKE a kid at summer camp, hiding with the covers over my head to sneak my phone. Mandatory lights out had been hours earlier, but I wasn’t ready to let Sam go, even as my eyelids became heavy with sleep. Over the first few days, they had confiscated my phone while I’d been assessed. Doctor Post had tweaked my antidepressants and taken me off the antianxiety medication all together. I really was feeling better, but managing my life inside the stress-free environment of the center was completely different than managing it on the outside, where millions of people pulled me in different directions. However, I was committed to doing my absolute best, even if it meant drastically changing my life when I was able to go home.
I was supposed to be resting and relaxing while giving my mind and my body a chance to recover, but nothing healed me more than those hours I spent on the phone with Sam.
It was three in the morning before we were both so out of it that we decided to actually hang up. Even with as late as it was, I still felt the loss with a physical ache. I missed him more than ever. But, when my phone pinged with an incoming photo, it was all erased.
At some point during our six-hour phone call, Sam had been busy. On my screen was an image of Sam in a bathing suit, lounging on a beach and looking like a tattooed Greek god. Heat pooled between my legs as I got an eyeful of him for the first time in days. Then a loud laugh escaped my mouth when I noticed a picture of me behind him. I immediately recognized it. It was one of the numerous times I’d accidently made a fool of myself by falling at the most inopportune time. My mouth was hanging open, my hair flying out to the sides in the most unattractive way possible, and absolute fear covered my distorted face.
I was no longer on the red carpet where it had originally been snapped. I’d been edited out of my dress and into a bikini, but my heels still graced my feet. Only, now, they were covered in sand, and I was falling only a few feet from Sam. I’d forgotten that he was a graphic designer, and if this picture was any indication, he was really fucking good. It was a seamless rendering that definitely gave me a good laugh, but my heart soared when I read the caption at the bottom.
