“Sure.” I nod, and then watch him unfold his tall, lean frame from my couch and stand. I continue to watch his ass as he walks across the apartment and out the door. “I think I’m in over my head.”
“Ruff.”
“I know, girl. Trust me, I know,” I whisper to Muffin as she plops to her bottom and stares at the door.
When the door opens a couple of minutes later, I hurry to the kitchen and grab plates and napkins, along with two bottles of water from the fridge as Levi heads to the couch with the pizza. “Are you okay with us finding something else to watch?” he asks as I walk toward him.
“You don’t want to watch P.S. I Love You?” I joke as he takes a seat.
“If we watch it, will you cry?”
“Probably,” I say truthfully. I always cry watching it, which is part of the reason I was watching it earlier. I figured I could use the movie as an excuse for shedding a few tears.
“I think you’ve had enough crying for the day.”
“True,” I mutter as he takes the stuff in my hands from me, setting it all on the coffee table. “Pick whatever you like.” I hand him the remote, and he flips through the channels so quickly that I can’t keep up. He lands on a true crime detective show I actually watch all the time. “I love this show.”
“It’s good,” he agrees, opening the lid on the pizza box. The second the scent hits my nose, my stomach growls, and he grins. “Hungry?”
“A little . . .” He raises a brow. “Okay, a lot.” I sigh, watching him laugh. Picking up one of the plates, he slides a slice of each kind of pizza onto it, then hands it over to me before doing the same with his own plate. “So have you caught your bad guy yet?” I ask quietly after a minute, and his eyes come to me and soften.
“Not yet, but I have a few more leads now, so I’m making progress.”
“That’s good.”
“It is.” He leans back on the couch, getting comfortable. Doing the same, I tuck my feet under me, rest my plate on my lap, and try to focus on the TV and not the fact that he’s sitting next to me on my couch, in my apartment, while we are alone. “Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”
“My sisters and I always go out to Long Island to my parents’ for the holidays. What about you?”
“I’m on call that night. I’ll probably head to Connecticut a couple days after and pray that my brothers haven’t eaten all the leftovers by then.”
“So you’re going to be alone on Thanksgiving?” I question, feeling a ping of sadness at the idea of him sitting alone in his apartment while everyone else is enjoying time with their families.
“I’ll probably be working, so it’s not a big deal.”
“But still, that’s sad,” I say quietly before taking a bite of pizza.
“It comes with the territory.” He shrugs, taking a bite of his own pizza.
“I guess you’re right; my dad missed a lot of holidays, so I know it’s a sacrifice you have to make.”
“Most women don’t get that,” he says, and I look at him.
“Pardon?”
“Most women don’t get that my job is important. I don’t have a nine to five where I’m home in the evenings, and things happen that mean I may get a call during dinner or a date that can pull me away.”
“Oh.” I nod, not quite understanding why he’s telling me that. Clearing my throat, I take another bite of pizza, then look at Muffin when she whines and drops her head to her paws while staring at Levi with wide puppy-dog eyes.
“Can she have a piece?”
“Sure.” I shrug expecting him to give her a small piece from one of his slices. Instead I watch with wide eyes as he gives her a whole slice of her own. “Um . . .” I press my lips together as she takes it from his hand and carries it, half hanging out of her mouth, to the kitchen.
“You said she could have some.”
“I thought . . . Never mind.” I laugh, shaking my head, and he grins. Finishing off both my pieces of pizza, I’m thankful that I have on my yoga pants, since there is no way I would be able to breathe if I didn’t. Groaning, I lean forward to set my plate on the coffee table and hear him laugh.
“You okay?”
“Stuffed.” I lean back as he picks up another slice.
“I used to think Chicago had the best pizza until I moved to New York,” he says, folding his new slice in half and taking a huge bite.
“I’ve never had Chicago-style pizza.”
“You haven’t?”
“No, I’m a New Yorker. In New York you only eat one kind of pizza.”
“Have you traveled?”
“Some, but not much.”
“What about family vacations when you were younger?”
“Like you said, your job means you have to make sacrifices. My mom and dad are glued to each other. My mom would never take us on a vacation unless my dad could go along, and since that was rarely possible, we didn’t do much traveling.” I shrug and watch his eyes fill with something close to regret. “I had an amazing childhood,” I say, feeling like I need to reassure him for some strange reason. “We lived a few blocks from the beach, so during the summer that’s where we would spend our days. I never missed traveling because I was always happy right where I was.”
“That’s a good way to look at it.”
“Have you traveled a lot?” I ask, watching him chew and swallow the bite he just took.
“Some. I’ve got family in Chicago and Georgia, so at least every couple of years we make it a point to go see them.”
“All my family is in Long Island. My mom and dad grew up there, along with their brothers and sisters. No one ever moved away, so we never had to travel to see anyone since we all lived on the same block.”
“Are you all close?”
“If you’re asking are they constantly in my business and annoying me, the answer is yes,” I say. He throws back his head, and a deep rumbling laugh comes out that makes my insides turn liquid.
“I get that, my family’s the same way.”
“Family is awesome,” I say sarcastically, and he chuckles as he finishes off his last bite of pizza.
“You done?” He nods to my plate on the table, and I smile.
“Yes, it was so good. Thank you.” I sit up quickly and try to take the plate from him when he starts to pick it up. “I’ll get it.”
“I’ve got it—relax.” He nudges me back down to the couch, and I sit back watching him take both our plates to the kitchen along with the pizza box.
“What the hell is happening?”
“What?” he asks, and I feel my eyes widen.
“Oh no, I was talking out loud to the TV. You know, asking what’s happening on the show, since we’ve missed most of it,” I blabber as he comes back toward me and looks at the screen—where a cell phone commercial is playing. Feeling my face heat in embarrassment, I bite my bottom lip and look away from him.
“Hmm.” He takes a seat next to me, this time closer than before. Muffin, who isn’t one to miss an opportunity to be petted, jumps up next to him, forcing him even closer as she lays her paws and head in his lap.
“You know she’s never really liked men before you.”
“Pardon?”
Clearing my throat I look at him, then Muffin, who is now in dog heaven as Levi’s big hand and strong-looking fingers run through her fur. “Um . . . she’s never liked a guy before you. I mean, she likes my dad, but she hates my uncles and cousins. I have to board her whenever I go to my parents for a few days.”
“Are you planning on having her boarded when you go away for Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah, she goes to Prestigious Paws downtown when I have to leave her.”
“Is that the place with the dog spa?” he asks with a smirk, and I smile.
“Yeah, she gets massages and manicures and she has her own TV in her room, plus I get to watch her on live video whenever I want.”
“Christ, that sounds better than some of the hotels I’ve stayed at.”
“Well, if I’m around when you’re out of town, I’ll keep her. I may not give her pedicures, but she’ll be taken care of.”
“That’s nice, but—”
“No buts,” he cuts me off before I can disagree.
“If you’re working . . .”
“I can always stop by,” he interrupts again. “My job’s close by, so I can always get away for a few minutes here or there to take her out.”
“That’s nice, thanks.”
“No problem,” he says as he rests his arm over the back of the couch behind me. I wait to see what he will do, if he will wrap his arm around my shoulders like he did earlier, but he doesn’t make a move, so once again I’m left confused and conflicted.
“Come on, girl.” Hearing that, my eyes blink open. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have been so comfortable that I did. Hearing Muffin’s dog tag jingle, I get up on my elbow and watch through the dim light of the living room as Levi leads Muffin out the door.
“Levi?” I call, sitting up, and his eyes come to me over his shoulder and soften.
“Just taking her out, we’ll be back.”
“Um . . . give me a second and I’ll come,” I say, starting to stand, but he shakes his head no.
“I got her—it’s cold out, stay,” he says, then closes the door behind him. Pulling in a breath, I bite the inside of my cheek and look at the open cake box on the table. We ate my birthday cake right from the box with one fork that we both shared. It was sweet—he’s sweet, funny, and easy to talk to, but I still have absolutely no idea if he’s interested in me as anything more than a friend.
Chapter 5
A KISS IS JUST A KISS, RIGHT?
FAWN
Each breath I exhale as I run causes a huge puff of fog to appear out of my mouth. It’s cold; actually it’s freezing, but after last night I needed to get a run in before work so I didn’t spend my morning sitting around thinking about Levi. When he came back with Muffin after taking her out last night, he didn’t stay. He wished me a happy birthday once more, then left with nothing more than a tap to the end of my nose like I was a little kid he found cute. I was so confused by that gesture that I stood at the door for a good ten minutes with my hand on the knob debating whether to go over to his apartment and demand he tell me what the hell was going on. Instead I went to bed, where I tossed and turned most of the night tormented by thoughts of him once again until I gave up on sleep altogether, got up, put on my jogging gear, and went on a run. I need to talk to someone about him. I could call my sisters and ask them what they think it all means, but I know if I do I will never hear the end of it.
Plus, with our parents coming into the city Friday, I can’t trust my sisters not to bring Levi up in front of Mom and Dad. Our parents are not like most parents nowadays who want their kids to wait to get into a serious relationship. No, our parents want the complete opposite—they want their girls settled with babies, the sooner the better. They want us to find love at a young age, like they did. My mom and dad met and started dating when they were in high school. My dad was two years older than my mom, and she was only sixteen, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing her. He says he fell in love with her at first sight, and she says the same thing. They were inseparable from the day they met, and she literally moved in with my dad the day she graduated high school. Six months later they got married at the courthouse, and two months after that, they found out they were pregnant with Mac. I can’t say things didn’t work out for them; our mom and dad are crazy about each other. They have a love that most only dream of finding, but it’s that love that has made them delusional. They don’t understand dating nowadays, and they definitely don’t get that most people are lucky if they find someone they like enough to start a family with, let alone love. So there is no way I want them to catch wind of Levi—I do not want them to do what they did to me when I was with Jayson, which was basically to try to convince me that he was perfect for me when he was anything but.
Feeling Muffin tug the leash in my hand, I slow my jog to match her pace, then squeak when she veers off the running path and takes off at a full sprint across the grass, dragging me behind her. “Muffin, stop,” I scream, stumbling on the uneven ground as my earbuds fall out of my ears and my hand burns from my tight grasp on her leash.
Hearing a deep, rumbled “fuck,” then “halt,” I trip over a tree root protruding from the ground and fall facedown, barely catching myself with my hands before I do a face-plant in the dirt.
“Ugh,” I moan, rolling to my back, trying to pull in a full breath from my overworked lungs and crushed chest.
“Muffin, sit.” Oh god. I close my eyes, hoping I’m wrong, hoping that voice I know so well isn’t the one I just heard. “Baby.” My stomach melts at the endearment as a large, warm hand spreads across my forehead while another very large, very warm hand rests against my stomach, where my running jacket has ridden up. “Are you okay?” Hell, no, my dog almost killed me trying to get to the man she’s obviously in love with.
“I’m okay.” I look up at him and immediately feel a sense of déjà vu as sunlight casts a halo behind him that accentuates his too-gorgeous face.
“We really need to get your dog trained.” He grins as Muffin sniffs my face, then licks up my cheek.
“She must have seen you,” I grumble, glaring at my dog.
“Yeah, I gathered that.” He smiles, patting Muffin’s head as I attempt to push her freezing nose away from my neck, where she is trying to bury it. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks tenderly, studying me from head to toe and making those stupid butterflies take flight.
“I’m fine.” I sit up, avoiding his gaze as I dust the dried dirt and leaves off the front of my jacket and yoga pants. With the way I keep making a fool out of myself in front of Levi, it’s really no wonder he doesn’t think of me as anything more than a cute, clumsy kid.
“Are you heading home now?” he asks, and I nod, keeping my head down, using retying my shoe as an excuse not to look at him.
“Yeah, I need to get ready for work soon.” Putting my hands behind me to heft myself up off the ground, I hold my breath as he scoops me up and carefully sets me on my feet.
“If I knew you were running this morning, I would have run with you.” I want to ask why, but then I realize he’s my neighbor and he wants to be my friend. Friends do things like run together, hang out with each other, and bring each other cakes on their birthdays. God . . . I have been friend zoned by the first guy I’m actually really interested in in what seems like forever. I’m officially an idiot.
“I go running most mornings, so if you—”
“I don’t run often,” I lie, cutting him off quickly before he can say more. I actually run almost every day, but I don’t want to spend more time with him. Okay, I do want to spend time with him, but I don’t want this small crush I have on him to turn into me suddenly stalking him, because that would be awkward, so it’s best we keep our time together to a minimum. “I was up early today, so I figured why not,” I say, and his eyes narrow, then relax and sparkle with something I don’t understand. Something that makes my stomach dip and my head grow dizzy.
Looking down at Muffin, he takes the leash close to her neck, then attempts to take the end I’m holding out of my hand as he mutters, “I’ll walk you girls home.”
“That’s not necessary.” I hold the leash tighter, wanting this encounter to be over. “You should finish your run.” I wave him off as Muffin barks in disagreement, like she knows what I’m saying.
“I was finished when I saw Muffin dragging you across the park to me.”
“Oh . . .” I glare at my dog once more, not that she notices. No, she’s too entranced by all that is Levi as he rubs the top of her head.
“Come on.” He takes my other hand and I feel his warm fi
ngers twine with mine as he pulls me along with him. When I try to tug my hand free, he holds it tighter, so like the idiot I am, I soak in the moment and pretend we’re just another couple out walking our dog in the morning before work. “Are you hungry?” he asks once we reach our block and my eyes find his looking down at me.
“Yeah, but I’ll probably just grab something on the way to work and eat before class starts.”
“What time do you have to leave for work?” he asks.
I shrug. “Seven the latest. What time is it now?”
Reaching into the front pocket of his track pants, he pulls out his cell phone, clicking on the screen. “It’s six,” he says, bringing us to a stop in front of our building. Letting go of my hand, he punches in the code for the door, which he then holds open for me.
“Well, thanks,” I mutter without looking at him once we reach our landing, but he doesn’t respond, and Muffin’s leash once again tightens as I head for my apartment. Growling under my breath, I pray that for once Muffin shows some kind of loyalty to the person who feeds her and puts a roof over her head. Opening my mouth to call her name as I turn around, I blink as Levi unhooks her leash from her collar, lets it drop to the floor, then walks into his apartment with Muffin following him. “Um . . .” I wind the leash up as I walk to his door, then stand at the threshold, not knowing what the hell to do.
“Levi?” I call into his apartment, not seeing anything but a large black-and-white photo of Mets’ stadium hanging behind his black leather couch. A low, shiny coffee table sits in front of the couch on top of a fluffy gray rug that I would love to have for myself.
“Come on in, baby.” What the hell is going on, and why does he keep calling me baby? Walking through the door, I frown as I watch him set a large bowl full of water on the ground in the kitchen for Muffin, who looks like she’s been at his place every day of her life. “Are eggs and toast good with you?” he asks, and I look to where he’s standing in front of his open fridge.
“Eggs . . .”
“If not, I got a few bagels.”
Running Into Love (Fluke My Life) Page 7
