"Shall we?"
I nodded, grabbing my purse off the end table by the front door. As I passed Nero, I scratched him on the top of the head.
My mom poked her head out of the kitchen. "Have fun. Don't be out too late."
In my head, I rolled my eyes because I was twenty-one, not sixteen, and she'd never once worried about how late I was out, especially since she'd be leaving for the hospital soon anyway. Levi smiled at her, dimple deep and ridiculous, and even my mom wasn't immune.
"Of course not, Mrs. Abernathy."
Levi followed me out the front door, chuckling as soon it closed behind him.
Normally, I would've joined in. But I still felt like the ground under me was unsteady, shifting slightly with each inch I covered.
"Hey," he said, resting his arm on my shoulder so that I had to stop.
"What?" I asked, only meeting his eyes for a second before I looked away again.
Levi crouched down in front of me and didn't speak until I finally caved and met his gaze straight-on.
"It's just you and me," he said. "Okay?"
"Okay," I answered quietly. How was he so sure about this? How did this not feel … strange to him?
"We've eaten together hundreds of times."
"Not at a nice restaurant," I countered.
"How do you know we're going somewhere nice? Maybe I'm taking you to the Pink Pony."
My eyes narrowed when he grinned at me.
"I'm kidding."
"I know," I said evenly, but I wanted to laugh because this, this alone, helped settle me. This was us. Him and me.
"We're going to the steakhouse."
Moment over.
It was a date restaurant. Dim lighting. Fancy things on the menu. Food that had dollar amounts next to them that made me want to shrivel up when I imagined Levi opening the bill at the end of our meal.
Levi stood and opened the passenger door of his truck for me, then held out his hand.
For a second, I stared at it because this wasn't normal. This was date Levi I was seeing. The scenario I let myself think of was unrolling right in front of my eyes. To him, I looked beautiful. And there was door opening. Maybe there'd be candles.
I swallowed and slid my hand into his. There was no smile on his face as I locked my chair and used my free hand to brace myself on the armrest. There was no humor making his eyes light up as I stood and straightened.
"I did tell you that you looked beautiful, right?" he asked, his thumb running over my knuckles.
When the hell did that become a spot on the body that made me want to rub my thighs together?
"You did," I choked out.
He smiled slowly, leaning down until he was close enough that I could smell a sharp burst of mint on his breath. "Then I guess I'm telling you twice."
Thoroughly flustered, I blinked away from the minty fresh breath and sharp jawline, taking the step necessary so I could grab the handle on the door and pull myself into the passenger seat. Just as I started to lift myself, Levi curled his big hand around my waist and helped. He didn't pull it off until I was seated, and his heavy gaze was burning a freaking hole in the side of my face, but I kept my eyes forward as I fumbled with the seat belt.
I heard a small sigh as he shut the door and put my wheelchair in the bed of his truck. He hopped into the driver's seat and gave me a quick flash of a grin before he reached behind the seats and pulled out a bouquet wrapped in the telltale green florist paper.
Before he handed it to me, my mom's car backed out the garage, and she gave us a tiny wave when she drove past.
When the sound of her car faded down our driveway, Levi turned and handed me the bouquet. But the feel of it was all wrong as my hands took it.
"These are definitely not flowers," I said as I set it in my lap.
He jerked his chin. "Open it."
I gave him a curious look, which made him roll his eyes. I laughed under my breath and found the seam in the green, crinkly paper. When I peeled it back, I burst out laughing, because it was a bouquet made entirely of Twizzlers. They were beautiful and bright red, tied together in the middle with a perfectly tied white bow covered in blood red hearts.
First flours. Now my favorite candy.
How was I looking at him? I wondered as I stared into his face from across the bench of his truck. Only a man who truly knew me would give me the things he'd given me. No other first date would ever be able to do exactly the right thing to make me smile or set me at ease.
For a second, I had the most irrational feeling of sadness.
It was so unexpected that I felt myself tear up as I slowly pulled one of the individually wrapped stems from the middle of the bouquet. Levi was watching me quietly, but I knew he wouldn't be able to see the moisture in my eyes because of the angle of my head. I blinked furiously before handing him one.
"Pre-dinner treat?" he asked.
"Why not?" My voice sounded normal, not like I was one sweet gesture away from bursting into ugly, messy, didn't make any sense tears. Good frickin' thing I was doing this with him first because if it was someone I didn't trust, someone I didn't really know, I'd scare them off for sure if I started sobbing five minutes into a first date.
He took a bite while I pulled one out for myself.
Instead of eating it, though, I stared at him chewing.
"These are terrible," he said around the candy. "So much excellent candy in this world, and this is the one you choose."
"I don't judge you for liking candy hearts. Talk about a waste of sugar," I replied. He shook his head, and when he turned the key in the ignition, the truck started up with a roar.
"They're iconic."
"I'll remember that when one of them snaps your molar in half."
My hand gripped the edge of the seat as that unsteady feeling came back to me even though we hadn't started moving.
A simple conversation about candy had me reeling, and I felt crazy because of it.
Every single time Levi ate Twizzlers, he told me they were terrible. But he still always stocked them for me, simply because he knew I loved them.
When he knew I was going to get my period, he bought two bags.
When I was going in for a big doctor's appointment, he brought one over to me.
Because he was my best friend.
My best friend, who was taking me out for an expensive steak dinner where crisp white tablecloths covered the tables and the silverware was shiny and expensive. Each table would definitely have candles, providing soft and romantic lighting in the restaurant. I'd sit on one side, staring over at the man who knew what kind of tampons I used, how much I hated peas, and how avocados make me sick to my stomach because I'd puked one up in his bathroom after he made guacamole.
Twice, he'd told me I looked beautiful, and he'd shaved his handsome face, put on a nice shirt, and picked me up so that I wouldn't feel like the pathetic girl who'd never been on a first date.
That unsteady feeling was in my head because I couldn't reconcile these two versions of the man I knew so well.
It was like I was trying to combine a color picture with one in black and white, but it was supposed to be one seamless shot.
In the pool, I stared at his chest and wanted to bite it.
At his place, he made me watch the same movies over and over because he knew I was too lazy to pick something else.
When we got to the restaurant, I knew he'd pulled the truck into a parking spot toward the back of the lot because he knew I hated using the handicap spot when I was out with him.
And because I was a terrible, thoughtless person—who didn't know how to deal with big scary emotions like the ones threatening to make my eyeballs leak all over and who didn't know how to package them neatly and label them in a way that my brain and heart could filter them better—the words spilled out before I could even process what I was saying.
"So if this is my first real date, am I supposed to pretend you're someone else?"
I never wou
ld have said it, thought it, or even contemplated it if I'd been with anyone other than Levi. And when he froze, when he puffed out air like I'd just punched him in the stomach, I knew with unerring certainty how badly I'd just screwed up.
Chapter 16
Levi
There was no hiding my reaction to her words, just like she couldn't stop the horrified widening of her eyes or the way she covered her mouth as soon as she saw me.
"I-I didn't mean it like that," she said on a rush.
There weren't words for how I felt. For how she'd just made me feel. I swiped a hand over my mouth and breathed in and out through my nose.
Because I knew her, rationally I could understand there was no ill intention behind what she'd said. No malice. But intention only went so far when the person you loved said something that made it feel like they took a baseball bat to your lungs. Then ran you over with a car for good measure.
My first instinct was to make her feel better by laughing it off. My second instinct, stronger and darker, was to get in her face until she had no choice but to see. See why I was doing this, and why I wanted to be here with her more than any place I could possibly be.
I dropped my hand and gave her a quick look.
"Levi," she whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to say that."
"What did you mean to say?" I asked quietly. This time, I wouldn't overlook it. This time, I wouldn't swallow down my pride so she didn't feel bad for saying something shitty.
Joss took a deep breath and knit her fingers together in her lap. For a second, she stared down at them, then lifted her eyes up to mine.
"I don't know how I feel." She blinked, shook her head a couple of times. "Right now. On this … date or whatever. I don't know how to feel about the fact that it's you. And you know me better than anyone, Levi."
My hands ached to touch her, to cup her face and pull her into my arms because she looked so miserable as she said it.
"Why do you say that like it's a bad thing?" I asked.
When she didn't answer my earnestly spoken question, I turned and faced her. One arm stretched along the back of the seat, the other hung on the top of the wheel, and between us, the stretch of the seat bench seemed like it was a mile long.
Joss was breathing fast, her lips closed and tight with tension. She was so beautiful, even with the bright sheen of fear and uncertainty surrounding her. Big feelings had always been terrifying to Joss, so her inability to answer right away didn't surprise me. It didn't even really scare me.
I drummed fingers on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. "Because the way I see it, Sonic, there's no way in the world it can be a bad thing." I kept my voice easy, my tone steady, and my body casual and loose. "The worst part of going on a date with someone new is that you have no idea if it's going to be the longest two hours of your life, or if you'll walk out of that dinner feeling like you met the person you're going to marry."
Her eyes watched me, guarded and wary.
Evening sky over the edge of the Smoky Mountains blue.
In that wariness, I knew that this was my moment. Her fear, strange as it might have seemed, was exactly what I needed to feel like I could take a step, just one single step over the clearly defined line of our friendship.
If she'd fallen into our normal rhythms, if she'd acted like herself right away, I might not have felt so certain about what I needed to do.
"So I'll tell you, Jocelyn Marie, I'll tell you exactly why there couldn't be a thing better in the world than the fact that you know me as well as you do and I know you in the same way."
Her throat, elegant and graceful, worked in a visible swallow, but she stayed silent.
"Because you know that when I say something to you, it's the truth, even if it's hard to hear. Even if it scares the hell out of you, you know that I'd rather rip my tongue out than tell you something that's a lie."
She blinked, and her jaw worked back and forth.
I licked my lips and lifted my hand from the back of the seat. Framing her face were a few curls, the ones that escaped the confines of whatever she'd done to it. I touched one, and she held herself so still that I almost smiled. The hair was soft, and the way it coiled around itself made me want to pull it straight just to watch it spring back into place.
Her chest lifted on a sharp inhale while I stared at the one curl.
"Do you know what the first thing was that I noticed about you?" I asked.
Joss shook her head slowly, one short back and forth motion as she held herself in place. Okay, I guess I'd be narrating this one solo.
"It was your hair." I slid my thumb and forefinger along the curl and stretched it gently, smiling when it bounced back. "I remember, like it happened yesterday, seeing you come into the gym that first day. It looked like your hair was exploding from the top of your head."
She exhaled a laugh. That little puff of air had my shoulders relaxing.
"It was your eyes next," I continued. I moved my thumb from her hair to the soft patch of skin underneath the edge of her lower lashes. "I've never, not in my entire life, been as intimidated as I was when you spoke to me the first time and turned those eyes right on me."
"Seriously?" she whispered.
I gave her a self-deprecating smile. "Seriously. Don't you remember the ass-kicking you gave me?"
"Maybe." But her smile, bright and sweet and fast, told me she remembered.
"I was stumbling over my words, couldn't even think of what I wanted to say because I couldn't stop staring. You were so fast, so graceful, so confident, I felt like I had a brick tied to my tongue for all the good it did me."
Joss shifted on the bench, lifting herself up a couple of inches so she could angle her legs toward me. "I don't remember you sounding awkward."
I swallowed. "I asked you out to dinner when we were done playing."
She nodded, her eyes turning sad. "And I said no."
I nodded back. "Do you remember what you said next?"
Her chin tipped up, and she inhaled slowly. "I said I could use a friend, though."
My thumb moved from the skin around her eyes, traced the sculpted edge of her high cheekbone, then touched the soft downy lobe of her ear, which made her shiver. She was so soft everywhere.
"Being your friend has been the greatest part of my life," I told her. "And even though I very much wanted to take you out for dinner just like this one, I don't regret a single day of the past five years because you know me in a way that no one else ever has."
"N-not even your family?" she stuttered when my thumb followed the edge of her jaw. I slid closer, thank God for bench seats.
"No one." Finally, I reached the edge of her mouth, those pink lips that were open as she breathed unsteadily. The line along her bottom lip was full and soft as I touched it. "Your mouth, that was next."
Her eyes fluttered shut. "Wh-what?"
I leaned in further, and the soft exhalation from her mouth hit mine. I pulled it into my lungs.
"I noticed your mouth next. Even now, this mouth makes me insane. When you smile, it's like a weapon."
Those eyes snapped open.
I traced the upper lip now, the sweet V of the cupid's bow. The tip of Joss's tongue darted out to lick her lips, but she caught the pad of my thumb as she did it.
My hand moved to cup the side of her face, and slowly, slowly, slowly, she tilted her head more fully into my palm.
That was my sign, the one I was waiting for. I wet my lips, her eyes tracking each movement. I dipped my chin and lightly, so lightly touched my lips to hers.
Click.
A puzzle piece. A lock. A key fitting into place, the one, singular, unique place it was meant for.
I brushed my lips back and forth slowly, memorizing the satin of her lips as she exhaled shakily, her hands sliding up my forearms to grip my wrists.
Joss tilted her head to the side for a new angle, and I touched my tongue gently to the seam of her lips. Immediately, she opened, and the sweet touc
h of her tongue against mine had me groaning deep from within my chest. This was my drug. This was the bright shot into my veins that had me flying.
I sipped at her lower lip, and she made a sound, a plea for more when she shifted again, tightening her grip on my wrists.
My hands were shaking as I held her face, then tilted my own to kiss her more deeply, sweeping my tongue against hers harder than before. There was so much pent-up energy coursing through my body I had to fight, claw, and snarl at the impulse to pull her onto my lap and kiss her as deep, wet, hard as I'd imagined so many times. To feel her skin under my hands. To know what her weight would feel like in my arms.
Joss released my wrists and wrapped her arms around my neck, her breasts pressing against my chest as we leaned into each other. She held me so tightly and kissed me with such delightful, unpracticed intensity, like she was a champagne bottle that had finally been uncorked.
"Joss," I whispered into her neck, kissing her underneath her jaw.
At the sound of my voice, muffled by her skin, she stilled, carefully pulling back so she could look at my face. Her hair was a mess, probably because of my fingers digging into it, and her lips were pink and puffy, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright.
"Whoa," she whispered, touching the tips of her fingers to her mouth.
I dropped my forehead to hers and exhaled, which sounded unsteady even to my own ears. Smoothing my hands up and down her back, I simply breathed her in, something clean and sweet and her.
"Pretty much."
Joss lifted her head and stared at me, her eyes were curious and careful. "You really wanted to kiss me that badly?"
I spoke on a laugh. "Yeah. I've wanted to kiss you that badly since the day I met you."
Her face fell. "You're joking."
"Why would I joke about that?" I asked.
"You've … you … for five years?" She gasped. "There's no way."
My eyebrows popped up. "Trust me, I'm not lying to gain brownie points right now."
She shook her head. "Levi, you're my best friend," she said, like it was all the explanation necessary.
Baking Me Crazy (Donner Bakery Book 1) Page 14
