by Leigh, Ember
That made Levi grin even wider. It was a special thing, to witness the birth of a new MMA fan.
“No smiling,” the doctor said.
“Levi, he said stop smiling,” Lex reprimanded, a new bark to his tone.
“Is that your dad voice?” Levi cracked.
“Yes, and if you push me any further, I’m gonna add an ass whooping, too,” Lex said, the hint of a grin on his face. “Just kidding, I don’t talk to my kid like that. But let the doc get you buttoned up.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Levi said. He heaved a sigh, checking out his face in the wall mirror once the doctor was done. “Not too bad. I don’t need stitches.”
“Murty probably will,” Travis offered. They all thanked the doc before he left.
Levi swiveled his chair to face Riley, who had perched on the arm rest of an overstuffed armchair across the room. “How’d you fare with the other photographers?”
She sent him a genuine smile, one that punched straight through to his gut. “They really tried to be the big burly assholes, but I threw elbows, like you said. I’d call it a successful first day.”
He swiveled back and forth, grinning like a dope at Riley. Travis sent him a look, asking in a low voice, “Are you seriously this moony-eyed already?”
Levi swatted at him but didn’t bother defending himself. He sorta had a point.
“All right, kids. Time to head out.” Travis twirled his finger in the air.
Levi groaned, sitting forward. He watched as Riley packed up her camera. He had to try again. Another hangout session. He was dying to see the pictures, so it seemed a natural meeting point. “You know, Riley—”
A firm knock sounded against the door.
Lex tugged open the door. An unfamiliar man in a casual gray sport coat smiled in at them, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his slacks.
“Is Levi Swain in here?”
“Yeah.” Lex stepped aside, pulling the door open wider. Levi leaned forward and waved.
“What can I do for you?”
The man smiled, looking at each person in turn before saying, “I’d like to speak in private, if at all possible.”
A whole bunch of questions ignited inside him, from the worst-case scenario to the most ludicrous of possibilities. This man was about to sue him. Or he’d come to offer a bag of cash. There was almost no in-between.
“Sure. Will it be long, because they were going to head out—” he began.
“I’d like to ask for an impromptu business meeting,” the stranger said. Levi’s gut told him to see this through, hear the guy out.
“Call a ride share,” Travis said, jerking his head toward the door, like urging the others to follow, “and the gym will pick up the tab, okay?”
Levi nodded, waving as his crew filed out. Once the door shut behind them, the man offered his hand.
“My name is Marcus Greer. I’ve been following you for a few months. Your career, that is—not physically.”
Levi erupted with a laugh. “Well, that’s a relief. What can I do for you?”
“I want to work with you.” Marcus had a calculating look in his sharp blue eyes, and everything about his energy screamed wealthy businessman. Even though he was dressed casually, Levi had a feeling Marcus’s leather shoes alone cost a couple grand. “In fact, I think you’d be perfect for a developing business opportunity.”
Levi’s head started spinning. Maybe his efforts were starting to pay off. “How’d you know I was open to this? Did you get one of my emails?” One of the first things he’d done after arriving in LA was sending out press releases about his upcoming ascent in the WFC league. He’d been pretty sure nothing would come of it, but then again, maybe this connection was a direct result.
“No email. Just scouting on my part. I have what you might call a knack for discovering trends before they’re big. And discovering stars before they explode.”
Well, if that wasn’t a convincing opening line. “Go on.”
Marcus pulled up a chair in front of Levi and eased into it, resting his elbows on his knees. “I own a PR company. I handle people’s images. Their reputations. What the world should know about them.” He paused, dragging his gaze up to meet Levi’s. “That said, sometimes it’s to my client’s advantage to orchestrate…incidents…to work in their favor.”
Things were somehow making less sense now. “Incidents?”
“Yes. Newsworthy incidents.”
“So…you’re fabricating news? Isn’t this the fake news everyone’s worried about?”
“I wouldn’t go as far as saying fake news,” Marcus said, “but rather, engineered. I work heavily with the tabloids to make sure that my clients are receiving the coverage we intend.”
“And how do I fit into this?”
A smile blossomed on Marcus’s face. “We think you’d be perfect for an upcoming headline.”
Headline. Exclamation points erupted behind Levi’s eyelids. “Hm.” He kicked an ankle up over a knee, leaning back into his chair to really start talking business. “Headline like…tabloid coverage?”
“Yes. A whole involvement, really.” Marcus laced his fingers together before continuing. “I have a client right now who’s looking for a particular type of coverage. She’s an international star. I’ve been trying to find her match. And I think it’s you.”
Levi tried to keep his mind from racing and latching onto this as the be-all and end-all. But it was hard. All he could see was dollar signs. “And what would I get out of it?”
“Well, fame, for one.”
Levi’s stomach jerked. That was a pretty good place to start. “And?”
“Money, of course.”
Levi fought the urge to ask where he could sign. He cleared his throat, pretending to study the floor with indecision.
“Listen, you’ve got the whole package. When I look at you, I see an MMA celebrity waiting to bloom. Forget Conor McGregor—this will be the Levi Swain Show. You’ve got the looks, the body, and this hair?” Marcus hefted with a laugh. “I could get you a modeling contract afterwards, just for shits and giggles.”
Excitement tremored through him. From the sound of it, this was exactly the type of thing Levi had been gunning toward. All he wanted was exposure and money. And he didn’t care how he got there.
“We should talk more about this,” Levi finally said.
“Let’s meet next week.” Marcus offered a cool smile while he dug a business card out of the inside pocket of his sport coat. “You call me and give me a day and time that works best for you, and I’ll make it work.”
Levi took his card, inspecting the no-nonsense font. “How much money are we talking?”
“That depends on how deep you want to go.”
“Sounds like the Matrix rabbit hole,” Levi said.
Marcus winked. “Yeah. It sorta is.” He pushed to standing and offered his hand. “I really hope to hear from you. This could be a great partnership for both of us.”
Levi shook, already knowing that he’d say yes.
It pretty much didn’t matter what they needed from him. If it promised him a payday and notoriety, Levi was already all in.
Chapter 8
Three days after Levi’s fight, and Riley still didn’t feel quite normal.
Something in that matchup had shaken her up. One of those flying punches had broken her on the inside, in a way that she couldn’t understand or even talk about.
“Riley?” Her housemate Nikki came into the living room, pausing when she caught sight of Riley. “You’re staring again.”
It had been happening on and off—random bouts of staring at Levi’s picture on her laptop.
Riley sighed, closing her laptop. In the beginning, she’d justified the pictures by saying she was finishing editing, even though she’d done that in her studio the day after the fight. But now? She was fangirling, plain and simple. She’d sent the packet of edited photos to Levi hours ago. She had no excuse.
“He’s easy on the eyes,” Riley muttered, se
tting it aside. And easy on the ears, too. Three days since she’d last seen him, and somehow she was craving a dad joke. That mistletoes one had really gotten her.
“Why don’t you bone him already?” Nikki asked as she rummaged in the kitchen for some snacks. They were about to start their weekly girl’s night. Their best friend Fiona was on her way over, and tonight’s viewing party included restarting Broad City from episode one.
“I can’t. He’s very clearly a man whore.”
“What does ‘very clearly’ entail?” Nikki asked as she pulled out a tub of hummus and a bag of carrot sticks. “Is it the fact that he has a penis?”
“Basically,” Riley admitted with a sigh. “Besides, even though every fiber of my being wants to bone that man, I shouldn’t because apparently I’m too jaded to live.”
“There is no ‘shouldn’t’ when it comes to casual sex,” Nikki said, knocking the fridge door closed with her hip. She padded over to the sectional couch, her raven hair pulled up into a messy bun.
“Oh, laaaay-deeez!” Fiona’s rich singer’s voice filled the apartment, and a moment later, their friend appeared in the living room.
“I swear to God she summoned you,” Riley said before wrapping her friend in a hug.
“It’s true. We were talking about casual sex,” Nikki said.
“That’s all you need to summon me: a brief conversation about casual sex and a guitar pick,” Fiona cracked. Fiona had been a musician her entire life but had only recently started taking it seriously. More than that, she was chronically, vehemently, anti-relationship.
Which, these days, so was Riley.
“So who are you sexin’?” Fiona asked, plopping on the couch.
“Nobody,” Riley assured her. “I’m still on sabbatical.” That was a polite way of saying she had a no-dick policy in place.
Fiona tutted, shaking her head. “That’s a bad idea. It’s been long enough.”
“I don’t know if it’ll ever be long enough,” Riley muttered, settling into her favorite corner of the sectional. She arranged pillows behind her. “I still get the occasional hate mail, don’t forget.”
Nikki frowned. “Yeah, but those people are crazy. They aren’t real people. And they have nothing to do with your needs as a woman.”
Riley sighed, not having it in her to have this conversation for the umpteenth time. When Braden cheated on her, it wasn’t like any old boyfriend had cheated on her. He was the most popular sitcom star in recent history, the Brad Pitt of young millennials. Riley hadn’t thought twice when their paths crossed early on in his career, not expecting his fame to balloon and his ego to balloon faster.
Dating a celebrity had never been on her to-do list, but she’d tried to roll with the punches. Except Braden got restless; he got hungry for more and better and hotter. It would have been bad enough to find out that he’d rolled into bed with his busty costar. But it became her worst nightmare when the prick didn’t have the balls to tell her himself.
Instead, he’d ghosted and let the tabloids fill her in.
Braden concocted a crazy story about his love of the century with his new girlfriend. Even insulted Riley in various interviews given, since Riley had occasionally been mentioned as Braden’s private and “normal” girlfriend prior to the scandal. Called her controlling. Restrictive. Jealous.
And oh, how Braden’s die-hard fans exploded out of the woodwork. Desperate to defend him against any perceived wrong, his fans descended on her as though she’d dragged him through the mud. Or castrated him personally. Or worse.
She didn’t know if Braden had intended to spur the months-long media frenzy or the avalanche of hate mail that his comments inspired. She could only imagine that he didn’t give a shit. That nothing mattered to him except pussy and fame.
A year and a half later, her life was only starting to feel somewhat normal. Back to the shadows of obscurity. Right where she wanted it.
“Seriously, casual sex is worth it.” Fiona kicked her Chucks up on the ottoman, using her I know what I’m talking about tone reserved for all matters sex. “You’ve probably forgotten what it feels like by now, and let me assure you—it is the best thing ever. No strings attached? Even better.”
Riley laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as anti-relationship as you.”
Fiona shrugged. “I don’t see the point. I tried it once—wasn’t for me. Sex is, though. You should have sex.”
“I think that’s the slogan for your personal brand,” Riley said. “When you’re ready to make T-shirts, let me know.”
Fiona thwacked her with a pillow. “That’s not a bad idea.”
“I’d buy one,” Nikki said, chomping into a carrot as she wedged herself in between her two friends.
Riley settled in for a fun night with her best friends, but in the middle of episode two, Levi texted.
LEVI: Damn girl.
Two little words made her hungry for more. She debated not responding, but who was she kidding? She was dying for a little taste of Levi after so many days apart. So much so that she was willing to indulge.
RILEY: Let me guess. You saw the pictures.
LEVI: Saw & loved. You do this professionally or something?
A laugh escaped her, garnering curious looks from her friends.
RILEY: Was thinking about taking a photography class or two, u think I should go for it?
LEVI: Totes. Maybe you can take pictures of my matches too. Just an idea. No pressure.
Riley pressed her hand against her mouth to silence the laugh. Why was this so fun? Maybe her friends were right. Maybe the sabbatical had dragged on too long. Maybe it was okay to have a little fun in her life, even if it was instigated by a new man.
Just playing around with Levi didn’t have to mean anything.
RILEY: I’m happy you didn’t ditch me for a real sports photographer. I’ve been researching you know.
LEVI: I can tell. These are better than the first practice already. Can’t wait to see what comes out of you next.
Riley snorted.
“You’re not even watching, are you?” Fiona demanded.
“I’m busy!” Riley said, swatting Fiona’s hand away as she attempted to steal her phone. “I’m talking to Levi!”
Both friends said “Ooooh.” But it got them to leave her alone. Riley settled back in.
“You have sex with that man,” Fiona encouraged, patting Riley’s wrist. “Make mama proud.”
RILEY: Art-wise or…other-wise?
LEVI: Any-wise.
RIILEY: Well I think the next thing scheduled to come out of me will be a burp. Not super artistic.
As soon as she sent the text, her eyes got wide. Why had she sent that? It wasn’t cute, or even remotely sexy. She was being…herself. Which was fine and all, but definitely counter-productive if she wanted to have sex with this man. Which she didn’t. Except she did. The whole thing was so confusing.
LEVI: Yours would be artsy somehow.
RILEY: I think you have a very high opinion of my bodily functions.
LEVI: I have a pretty high opinion of all of you.
Riley tucked the phone away, her cheeks flaming. Thank God he couldn’t see her right now. And the worst part of all? She wanted to continue this flirty conversation. See how far they could take it.
She unearthed her phone again, tapping out a message before she could think better of it.
RILEY: Yeah? What’s your highest opinion about me?
Levi’s answer came in lightning fast, as if he’d already written it out before she’d even asked.
LEVI: Mind or Body?
RILEY: You pick.
LEVI: You’ve got an eye for photography that I’ve never seen before in the entire world. Your art makes me ache.
Riley blinked rapidly, reading and re-reading his compliment. It was the best thing anyone had ever said to her. It was the reason she was doing this shit. The world around her had completely ceased to exist; all that mattered right now was L
evi and this conversation.
RILEY: Thank you. That means a lot to me.
LEVI: U deserve it.
LEVI: Wanna hear my other high opinion?
Her heart was pounding waiting to know what it could be, knowing already what it had to be. But the idea of turning the lens to her physical appearance was somehow embarrassing. Especially when it came from someone like Levi, who looked like a Hollywood star in waiting.
RILEY: I guess.
LEVI: You have the sexiest thighs.
She dropped her phone and covered her face with her hands. Fiona cackled at her side.
“You two are sexting already, aren’t you?”
Riley could only scream into her palms. She scooped up her phone, rereading his words. His admission sent fire ripping through her veins. Good thing he was elsewhere, because if he was even within a quarter-mile radius, she was ready to hunt him down and mount this man. Sexiest thighs. Why did that ring as the hottest possible response? If he’d complimented her lips or her ass, it would have sounded cliché. But not Levi. He was a whole different league.
He’d called her booty psychedelic, for god’s sake.
LEVI: Sorry. Wasn’t supposed to say that. Forgive me?
RILEY: I’ll allow it. Just this once.
LEVI: Would you allow something else just once?
Riley breathed heavily as she typed out her response. All of this was so wrong…but it felt so good. Dammit, she’d missed the thrill of attraction. The question marks of a crush.
“Oh my god, they are sexting!” Nikki screeched.
Riley swatted in the air, but reached neither of them. She couldn’t concentrate on anything other than this conversation.
RILEY: Depends on what it is. And don’t say sex.
LEVI: I don’t even know what sex is.
RILEY: Something tells me you’re not a virgin.
LEVI: I guess you’ll have to find out. Have dinner with me?
LEVI: Like, not where I bring you your favorite curry OF ALL TIME or anything
LEVI: But where I take you out and wine and dine you and act a perfect gentleman who does not bring up sex
LEVI: not even once
LEVI: not even if you demand it
