by Lee Piper
“C’mon, don’t be like that.” He leaned across me intending to point something out, “Look, here’s where you—”
But I didn’t let him finish. Instead, I turned, glared at him and growled out, “If you put your hand anywhere near me again, with God as my witness, I will rip that arm out your socket and stab you in the balls with it. Understood?”
Levi rocked back on his heels, surprised by my vehemence and regarded me for a moment before murmuring, “Who did this to you, Grace?”
I faltered at his swift change in subject and looked away before hastily trying to shove the key into any empty orifice I could find. There was no way I was going to have that conversation with him. Well, sure as hell not sober anyway. “Just leave me alone,” I muttered. Thankfully, the key suddenly fit, kind of, in one of the slots I had just jammed it into.
In my elation, I almost missed him mumble, “Wish I could.”
But of course my raging hormones seemed to have supersonic hearing and my eyes flew to his unreadable expression “Don’t mess with me, Levi. I meant what I said—leave me alone.” I pushed the key in deeper, ecstatic at the thought of finally getting away from him and all this confusion.
“Kitten?”
“For fuck’s sake, what?”
“You’ve put the key in the cigarette lighter.”
My eyes snapped to the key that was currently on the verge of being roasted alive, and I yelped before snatching it out. Levi’s now familiar, but still freakin’ annoying, chuckle echoed next to me and I seriously considered ramming the molten piece of metal deep into his eye socket.
He ignored my protestations and leaned across me, pushing a button situated just behind the left-hand side of the steering wheel. At once, the car purred to life. “Push button start,” he deadpanned.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Now, just give me a minute while I go get my car and then I’ll follow you home. Not that I think you don’t know what you’re doing or anything.” He winked, stood up, and carefully closed the door before striding off.
For as long as I could draw breath, there was no damn way I’d let him do that. So before Levi could get too far, I threw the car into reverse and pumped the accelerator, almost colliding with him on the way. Smiling gleefully, I then slammed the car into drive and rocketed out of the car park, gravel flying in all directions from beneath the vehicle’s screeching tires. As I glanced in the review mirror, I caught sight of Levi’s astonished expression. It was pure bliss. I couldn’t help myself, I laughed the whole way home.
Chapter Three
Sick of these games we’re playing,
Pretending that you don’t know.
Confusion’s around me,
Hold on tight and then let go.
-MONDEZ, “Pretenses”
Several hours later, I finally flopped down onto my bed, spread eagle style. Completely exhausted. My euphoric high after leaving Levi in a cloud of dust was sadly short lived. Once I pulled into Riley’s parking bay at the base of our small apartment block, I realized that I had to carry her up two flights of stairs all on my own. Transferring a comatose woman from her car to her bed took mammoth effort and I was pretty sure my back and I were no longer on speaking terms. Don’t even get me started on my calves and thighs—let’s just say we had words.
Once I managed to plop Riley onto her bed, I removed her shoes and clothes before wrangling on some of her exorbitantly overpriced-for-the-amount-of-material-given-in-return silk pajamas. I then threw her sea green Egyptian cotton sheet over her and returned a couple of minutes later with the largest glass of water I could find and some aspirin.
She’d feel like crap in the morning.
After that I had a quick shower to scrub off the many layers of blood, sweat, and tears caused by lugging her drunk ass upstairs. I then shrugged on my own PJs before collapsing into bed. Throughout it all, I didn’t once think about a pair of mocking blue eyes. Honest to God, I didn’t.
I sighed and checked the time on my phone. It was past two in the morning. I slammed it back onto the bedside table in disgust. Despite my limbs feeling like dead weights and my back hurling abuse at me, I was too wired to sleep. So instead, I let the events of the night tick over in my head. Over and over again.
And that’s when the guilt kicked in.
It was strange, because not only did I obviously feel guilty for being shamefully attracted to Levi, but I also felt guilty for acting like a complete and utter bitch around him too. I mean, first, there was my insulting rant where I pretty much called him an arrogant prick to his face. Then, there was the embarrassing groping session after spilling that jug of water on him, and finally, was my blatant refusal of his help in getting Riley safely home.
I sighed.
Even worse, was that during Mondez’s set I’d never felt so—completely clichéd I know, but true nonetheless—alive. It was as though all of the anger I had been carrying around within me, safely stored in my biting comments and snide wit, dissipated completely. For the short time he was on stage I felt … centered. Whole even. Obviously, it wasn’t his intent when performing to make me feel these things, I wasn’t that much of a deluded fool. But the fact remained—he did. Levi was the one person who reminded me of what it was like to be content. And this emotion had long been alien to me since Dylan walked out.
It was official. I was a horrible person.
Suddenly, the notification screen on my phone lit up.
Levi: Hey it’s Levi. U make it home okay?
Me: How’d you get my number?
Levi: Riley left her phone behind. She needs a stronger password, even Dom figured it out
Me: You stalk people now? Is that because your pick up lines are so shit?
Levi: Can’t figure out if ur a kitten or a wildcat
Me: I’m not your concern either way.
Levi: Right. Seeya round then
Me: Look, I’m sorry.
Levi: For what?
Me: Everything. My Smart Mouth mostly.
Levi: Can’t get enough of ur smart mouth. It’s driving me crazy
Me: Don’t say that.
Levi: I’m an egotistical narcissist remember? I can say whatever the hell I want
Me: Goodnight.
Levi: Was it?
Me: ?
Levi: A good night?
Me: Verbal abuse, pitchers of water & exhaust fumes to the face aside … Yeah, I guess it was.
Levi: J
My groggy mind slowly registered the sounds of thunder outside. Strange, I thought to myself amidst a sleepy haze, I could have sworn it was going to be fine all weekend. The thunder clapped again and my eyes popped open. Unless the storm was centered directly over our front door, then someone was no doubt pissing the neighbors off something terrible with all of that banging. I fought off the covers and padded quickly towards the door. As I moved past Riley’s bedroom, I could hear her faint snores, so thankfully she hadn’t been disturbed by the noise. I decided to find out what the hell they wanted and then send them on their merry way. But as I opened the door a fraction and peeked through the gap, my breath suddenly caught.
Holy shit.
It was Levi.
“Um…” I didn’t think it was possible, but in the light of day he was even more beautiful than I remembered.
“Afternoon, kitten.”
“Afternoon? How’d…” My train of thought faded into nothingness at the sight of his lopsided grin. Get it together, girl. I internally shook myself. Hopefully, my mental scolding would help me put more than two words together into some semblance of a normal conversation with the man.
“Well, after Brea told me where you guys lived, I drove on over and then bumped into this really nice old lady downstairs.”
“Mrs. Jenkinson.”
“Yeah, that’s the one. She let me know which apartment was yours, but man, can she talk.”
I was going to kill her.
“You gonna let me in?”
&nbs
p; “Oh, right. Sure.” My ability to function as a rational human being hadn’t quite kicked in yet despite my firm talking-to just moments before. I blamed the red t-shirt hugging his colossal chest in a way that made my eyes water, and the ripped black jeans hanging delectably off his hips. As I opened the door and he stepped past me, I so didn’t breathe in the scent of him.
That’d just be weird.
“Nice place.” He slowly took in our cramped living room. There was a black leather three-seater couch, with a matching coffee table and TV unit that belonged to Riley. The walls displayed various pieces of designer artwork, which discretely matched the throw cushions on said couch. Let’s be honest, there was no way in hell they were mine either. Needless to say, she owned everything in our communal living spaces.
Levi turned around. “It’s a bit warm though.” He stopped abruptly, his eyes raking my body from head to toe.
I shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze and futilely ran fingers through my no doubt unruly hair, which hung loose to my shoulders. I really hoped I wasn’t impersonating a mad scientist here.
“You’re a Hitchcock fan, huh?”
I peered down at my faded black t-shirt with a white cartoon profile of the man himself printed on the front. When I’d ordered it online I was sure I’d asked for a small, but when the shirt arrived it was most definitely a large. I honestly couldn’t be bothered returning the damn thing, so it was relegated to the sleeping attire department of my lackluster wardrobe instead. The material was ridiculously soft and comfortable, despite the fact the hem only just covered my…
And that’s when the panic set in.
“I’ll just go grab some shorts.”
“Please, not on my account.”
I could hear his chuckle follow me as I raced down the hallway.
Once in my room I quickly scanned its contents, desperately hoping that somewhere in this mess I had some clean clothes to throw on. Both bedside tables were covered in books, while the floor was awash with yoga pants, tank tops and shorts. Ironically, there was also a vast array of empty coat hangers in the wooden wardrobe pushed up against the western wall. I raced around the other side of my queen-sized bed, begging for a miracle and hallelujah. A small pile of clean clothes was waiting, no doubt lovingly put there by Riley last weekend. So I shimmied into some old cutoff denim shorts, popped a strapless bra on and pulled a light blue tank over my head. To be frank, I really didn’t need the bra. My small breasts were the bane of my existence in high school but now I was glad for them because they didn’t encourage any unwanted attention and would be one less body part to droop and wrinkle as I aged. I didn’t bother with my hair—like a temperamental teenager, it had a mind of its own anyway.
Upon reentering the lounge room, I swear to God, it looked like I had opened the page of an interior design magazine. My breath stopped. Literally. If I wasn’t careful my face would soon match the color of my top. Levi was sprawled out on the couch, one arm lazily resting on the leather armrest, the other casually thrown over the back of the sofa with fingers tapping against the seams in time to a beat in his head. The ankle of one of his legs rested across the knee of the other. It was simply absurd how mouthwatering this guy was. Surely, he was an occupational health and safety hazard and needed to come with some form of signage? A high visibility vest was needed at the very least.
I forced my lungs back into action. The sound of my ragged breaths must have caught his attention because he turned his head and smiled up at me. It was an openly appreciative grin, though of what I couldn’t say. Maybe it was the fact that I had put some clothes on? Or it could have been my comical dumbstruck expression. Who knew? Either way my heart, seemingly grateful for the oxygen kick, did a flamboyant celebratory flip inside my chest.
“Um, can I get you anything?” I awkwardly mumbled, trying to avoid letting on exactly how much he was affecting me by being there, all model-like in my apartment.
“Is Riley home? I’ve got her phone.”
It felt like my stomach plummeted to the cement slab at the base of the building. Stupid stomach. Stupid fluttering heart. What was the point of internal organs anyway, except to remind us of how much we desperately wanted what we couldn’t have?
“She’s asleep.”
“Still?”
“Yeah, she’s not much of a drinker. It hits her pretty hard.”
“Not like you, huh?” He smiled. “Now, how does a girl such as yourself start drinking whiskey anyway?”
I shrugged my shoulders in feigned boredom before turning for the kitchen. I wasn’t about to tell him that I learned to drink from my father. He started drinking most nights after Mum left him for another man. It was strange what some people put up with because the dozen or so affairs she’d had before that never seemed to affect him. Even though I was only six I still clearly remembered that day, it was forever etched in my mind.
The front door slammed and not long afterward I could hear the smash of china as it hit the wall in the kitchen. My sister and I stared at each other, frozen and in shock.
Earlier, Daddy had told us to go play in my bedroom because he and Mum were going to have a ‘grown-up conversation’ by themselves. We’d been playing school. I’d only started at the local primary school the year before and loved to line up my toys and pretend to be their teacher when Ballerina refused to join in. Which was pretty much always. But today she’d let me have my way so I’d been nice back and let her have some arts and crafts time.
My sister stood and grabbed my hand. She threw the bedroom door open and ran, dragging me behind her towards the source of the noise. Daddy was in the kitchen pouring himself one of those Special Occasion drinks, the ones with ice in them and not much else. I was confused because he looked too sad to be celebrating anything.
“Don’t come in here, girls. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”
Ballerina led me to the dining table and pulled out a chair for me to sit down on. She gracefully settled in next to me, not saying a word while Daddy swallowed what was in his glass and then poured himself another. Slowly, he moved his way towards us. After sitting at the head of the table, he rolled the glass between his fingers, silent.
“Daddy?”
Red-rimmed eyes glanced up at me.
“Daddy, where’s Mum?”
Ballerina glared at me as though I had said something terrible and I suddenly felt embarrassed by my question, though wasn’t sure why.
“Your mother’s … gone away for a while. I’m not sure when she’ll be back.”
My eyes immediately welled up with tears. “Does that mean you’re going away too?”
Dad carefully put his drink back down on the table and placed a warm hand over mine, squeezing it. He then gave me a small, warm smile.
“Grace, my love, you’re stuck with me forever.”
I grinned back up at him.
I shook my head.
“I’m gonna make a coffee. Want one?”
“Sure.”
I tried to make myself busy with the cups, milk and sugar but could feel Levi’s eyes following me. His physical presence simply hoarded up the small space. The realtor had described the kitchen as cozy before I moved in two years ago at the age of twenty, all fresh faced and full of naive delusion. But now the adjective was a freakin’ joke because it implied that the inhabitants of the space were comfortable with each other. I sure as hell wasn’t at the moment.
To describe what it felt like being this close to Levi in my own home eluded me, especially knowing that I couldn’t do anything about my rampant need for him. It was probably similar to a caged animal—all nervous tension and repetitive pacing. Which explained why I kept taking single items out of the cupboards and drawers rather than collecting them all in one go.
Open. Take one cup. Close. Open. Take another cup. Close.
Surely, I’d be committed soon. Being this receptive to the presence of another wasn’t a good sign for my ongoing mental stability.
“You’re doing it again.”
My head shot up and Levi was leaning over the kitchen counter, staring at my mouth with a half smile on his face.
“That thing with your tongue. You did it last night after almost drowning me too.”
Thing? What thing? I frantically racked my brain for what he could possibly be talking about but came up blank.
“You must do it when you’re thinking.”
Ah. The whole poking-my-tongue-out-the-corner-of-my-mouth-like-an-overheated-cocker-spaniel thing. Yeah, that’s one of my quirks I really wanted to draw his attention to. Fucking attractive with a capital A.
“It’s sweet.”
I gaped at him.
“You’re sweet. Definitely a kitten.”
I snorted, effectively ruling out his last observation. “I’ve been called many things, Levi, and sweet definitely hasn’t been one of them.”
“Yeah? What are you normally called?”
“Heinous bitch, mostly.”
He chuckled softly and I couldn’t help but smile in return.
“You don’t scare me, Grace.” His blue eyes were clear and it was as though he could see straight through me. It was odd really, I’d spent the last year honestly not giving a shit about what other people thought of me. But with Levi looking at me like that, I suddenly worried that what he found was lacking somehow. I was broken, definitely. But deficient? Strangely, I hoped not.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
My heart stopped as he reached out his hand and trailed the backs of his fingers down the side of my face, leaving tingles in their wake. His calloused thumb lightly skimmed over my bottom lip. Thankfully, it was devoid of any lolling cocker spaniel tongue. His hand then moved to the back of my head, instantly losing itself in the tangle of my hair.
I gave myself exactly three seconds to shut my eyes and bask in the afterglow of Levi’s completely unexpected utterance. And another two to enjoy the feel of his fingers against my scalp. He was the first lick of caramel ice cream at low tide during summer holidays—pure heaven. However, Teacher Grace was about to lose her shit at my blatantly wanton behavior—her words—so I opened my eyes again and gently removed his hand from my hair before placing it on the countertop between us.
