Breaking the Habit: The Breaking Series #4

by Leigh, Ember

  Travis stared at him so hard, Levi thought he’d wilt.

  “Do your drills. And take those fucking glasses off.” Travis spat it out like an afterthought, and Levi lobbed a sigh before pulling on his boxing gloves. The punches were slow, lethargic. The exact manifestation of his mental state. Barely there and sloth-like.

  “Jesus,” Travis muttered when he came over a few minutes later. “You really reek.”

  Levi glanced at him. “I know how to take showers, I swear.”

  “Like whiskey,” Travis clarified. A disappointed sigh escaped him, but when he crossed his arms over his chest again a moment later, Levi could feel the verbal beat-down coming. His body prickled with nervousness. Fuck. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this.

  “You know, I really thought we were fucking past this,” Travis said in a low voice, stilling the bag when Levi’s punches had stopped.

  “Past what?” Levi asked, feeling every inch the petulant adolescent.

  “Past you being a drunk idiot.” Travis said, the duh tone worse than when Gage got on his kicks. “Last time I checked, you wanted to go all in to win the title. But what I’m seeing here is a lazy kid who’d rather go get drunk and ruin all his progress.”

  “I didn’t ruin anything,” Levi clarified, his chest tightening. “It was my off day. I’m allowed to celebrate. Besides, I’m here, aren’t I?” But the guilt slashed through him anyway. Travis was right.

  “Barely,” Travis spat.

  “Should I leave?” Riley asked in a small voice.

  “No. Stay.” Travis propped his hands on his hips, swinging his angry gaze back to Levi. “He wants you to film the league, you better get all of it.”

  “Listen,” Levi started, “Last night was a publicity stunt. Okay? I thought that maybe if I caused a scene, it might help draw more attention to the league.”

  “Oh, did you?” The sarcasm dripped from his words. “I’m sure the fifteen shots of Hennessey or whatever you had were all for publicity too. Do you think that the court date you’re about to get slapped with will be a publicity stunt? You think I want my name and my gym attached to your publicity stunt?”

  Travis’s words cut deep, but Levi tried not to let them sting. “This had nothing to do with you or the gym. Travis, it was—”

  “No, Levi. Everything you fucking do now is attached to the gym. While those cameras are watching, you’re dragging me along with you. And don’t you forget that. You need to watch yourself. If you’re trying to cause a stir, at least make sure it’s worth it.”

  Levi tapped the front of his boxing gloves together. Silence buzzed through the gym. It had been ages since he’d been chewed out like this. And now the hangover kicking in only reinforced Travis’s words.

  “And by ‘worth it’ I mean you’re not beating up some Hollywood d-bag who looked at you wrong,” Travis said a moment later.

  “What?”

  “That’s whose face you smashed in last night, Levi.” Travis slapped at the man bun tied up on the top of Levi’s head. “Or don’t you remember?”

  “How do you know?”

  “The photographers filled me in when I got here.”

  Levi sighed. The headache he’d started his day with had multiplied. Grown offspring. Launched several generations. “I’m sorry, Trav. It’s not gonna happen again.”

  But as soon as he said that, Levi doubted his truthfulness. He couldn’t promise that. Not now, not ever. Because this was his old habit—cast all his troubles into the wind, and see where he landed the next day.

  As long as he had that pressure in need of a valve, he’d need the outlet. And it was the only outlet that worked.

  Travis receded into a watchful-taskmaster mood. Levi sank back into training while Riley moved around the gym, taking pictures. His hangover took precedence for the rest of the day—kept him quiet and squinty-eyed, trying to survive training. With each punch and grunt that left him, Travis’s disappointment vibrated a little louder inside him.

  Travis wasn’t just his coach. Travis was damn near family at this point. Even though he still didn’t know half the story about Gage, Travis was the closest Levi had come to really letting someone new in. He’d even considered bringing Gage around to the gym so he could meet the guys.

  But now? Levi could feel himself slipping. He’d lost a little bit of Travis’ faith, and that shit stung worse than the hangover.

  Levi’s sweat was pure alcohol. While he worked on pull-ups, Riley lay on the ground and took pictures of him from below.

  “I bet this angle is nice,” Levi cracked.

  “If only pictures could capture smell.” Click. Click. “I think I’m a little drunk just from sitting here.”

  “Real funny. You wish science worked that way.”

  Riley was quiet, lining up a shot. Levi grunted and launched himself up onto parallel bars to start his leg lifts.

  “So you had a pretty wild night?” She propped herself up on an elbow, camera resting on the floor.

  “Wasn’t too wild, actually.” He glanced over at Travis, who was talking to a receptionist in the gym doorway. “Pretty tame in comparison to some nights.”

  Riley was quiet, examining something on the floor. Then she brought her knees to her chest.

  “How did your pictures go with Nikki’s family?” Levi asked, voice straining through another set of leg lifts.

  “Great. We had a lot of fun.” She flashed him a smile, but it faded quickly. She toyed with her camera strap for a moment, then pushed to her feet. “I think I’ve gotten enough pictures for today.”

  Levi finished his last rep and then hopped to the floor. “You sure?”

  “Yeah. I’m late for some editing, so…” Her smile looked forced. Something was off with her, and maybe he’d only noticed it now that the headache meds were kicking in. “I’ll see you later.”

  Riley trotted off before he could protest. But what would he say? He grabbed the parallel bars again and launched into another rep, his mind burning as much as his muscles.

  The rest of practice was brutal. Travis went hard on him out of sheer enjoyment of his suffering, Levi suspected. But every residual drop of hangover and alcohol had been expelled from his body via sweat, so by the time he hauled himself out of the locker room showers, he felt like a new man.

  One who was ready to pay a visit to Riley at her studio.

  Levi dressed quickly in the street clothes he’d brought. He ran into Travis on his way out the main hallway. He was there with Amara, who looked like she’d popped in from work due to her business casual attire.

  Levi walked up to them, jerking his chin toward Amara. “Hey, Amara. It’s good to see you.”

  “Hey, Levi. Congrats on the win this weekend.”

  “Thanks. I won hard and then I partied harder.” He clapped Travis on the back. “Boss ain’t too happy about it.”

  Travis grunted.

  “Seriously, though, Trav?” Levi gripped his shoulder. “I’m not slacking on this league. I swear to you. You’ll see. I’m gonna fucking win it all.”

  Travis met his intense stare. “Good.”

  “I’m not made for losing,” Levi said. “I fucked up this weekend. But I’m not going to disappoint you.”

  Amara looked particularly won over even if Travis didn’t, so his job was done.

  “Can we have a cookout sometime, too?” Levi asked as he scuffed his way down the hallway. “Like, thirteen steaks…everything cooked in butter…and fudge.”

  Travis finally grinned. “You sound like a fighter who’s been depriving himself to win the title.”

  Levi cocked a finger at him before pushing out of the gym. That, at least, was a good sign. Maybe he’d served his penance. After all, wasn’t the hangover punishment enough?

  All that remained was Riley. He’d fucked up with her too somehow, he could feel it. And although he didn’t know what lay on the horizon for them, he didn’t want things to be weird.

  His brain knew the right pat
h forward: keep it simple. Keep it sexy. Keep it light. Levi had never been in the market for a girlfriend, and he wasn’t starting now.

  Part of him knew that would be fine by Riley. But the other part of him knew that she might not be the problem at all.

  It might be him.

  Chapter 17

  Riley turned her studio into a sunny editing oasis.

  She pulled all the curtains open, even propped the door open while still using air conditioning. She wanted that city breeze. It was inspiring today, somehow. A special lead tang of creativity.

  And she needed to get lost in her work. The past few days had been an emotional whirlwind. Going from Definitely No Levi to Completely Filled With Levi, followed by Pining for Levi only to end with Strangely Absent Levi.

  It was too many twists in seventy-two hours. Perhaps the worst twist of all was yesterday. Spending the whole day blissed out on their night together. Fantasizing without meaning to about what the next time would be like. Waiting for a text from him. Waiting. Waiting. And then finding out the next day that he’d actually been out all night drinking.

  She knew what happened when single men like Levi went out in Hollywood. She didn’t need to guess why he didn’t text her. After all the heartbreak in her life, she could figure it out by now.

  And after the tense morning at Holt’s, she still didn’t know what she felt about it all. The only thing that kept coming to mind was: So this is Levi’s dark side.

  It was only fitting that he’d show the shadow side so soon after their amazing fireworks display of a night. He liked to go out and get fucked up. That was fine, really. The man deserved it. But the drunken beatdown he didn’t remember? Probably came on the heels of fucking a girl he didn’t remember in the bathroom.

  It wasn’t her place to judge. She had zero say in this man’s life. But she hated that she wanted to know more. Why did he do it? Where did he go? Was it really publicity or something else? Their night together had left her hungry—no, starving—for more Levi. But this about-face drew the line clearly in the sand. Reminded Riley of her place in the scheme of things.

  She and Levi were nothing. She shouldn’t want more. It needed to be one and done.

  Riley had her legs kicked up while she reclined on the fluffy pink sofa. Incense named Golden Temple burned in the corner while beta beats pulsed from her speakers. This was her haven. Her safe space.

  A commotion from outside tugged at her attention. She glanced up, seeing a group of people approaching from down the street. A man headed toward the studio, walking backwards, his arms spread out as he shouted at some other people following him. The sharp undertones of his voice made her sit up.

  The hair. Chestnut tresses pulled back into a low, short ponytail. Broad shoulders that screamed protein shakes and daily bench presses. It had to be Levi. She set the computer aside as he grew nearer. Finally, he turned, confirming what she’d suspected. Levi strutted toward her door, pure swagger and smirks. A navy-blue tee stretched over his impressive shoulders, light gray shorts riding low on his narrow hips.

  He had a train of about five photographers, cameras raised and active. Her chest seized, and all she could do was stare while she tumbled backwards, down the tunnel of the past. No. No. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not again.

  Visions of her breakup flooded her. The photographers swarming her studio, waiting for a word, a flinch, a glimpse, any whiff of drama. Her hiding in the corner, waiting them out as her inbox filled with hate mail.

  All because she’d made the mistake of falling for the wrong guy. It was practically a bad habit at this point. But not anymore.

  John Stamos crooned his greeting a moment later, and Riley leapt to her feet, heart pounding. Levi hadn’t gotten two steps inside before she locked the door behind him and then darted over to the front windows, tugging at the curtains.

  “Hey—” Levi started.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Riley spat once the windows were blocked. She turned to him, hands on her hips. She was shaking. Literally shaking.

  Levi’s smile melted away. “Um…coming to say hi to you?”

  “No, Levi. I mean them. The photographers following you?”

  “Oh.” The grin returned. “I’ve got fans. Isn’t it cool?”

  She hefted with a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t call them fans. More like drama-hungry sharks.”

  “I’m happy to have sharks in the water,” Levi said, easing onto the couch. He propped his palms behind his head, looking impossibly casual and cool. He had no idea. None at all, and that made her angrier. “It means I’ve finally made it to sea.”

  Riley frowned, snatching up her laptop. “Yeah, well, the sea is overrated. These sharks don’t care if they take an entire leg off, or, I don’t know, ruin a career? When they’re interested, it’s because they smell a scandal waiting to happen.”

  “Oh, come on,” Levi said.

  “I’m serious. Having the paparazzi follow you around is not a badge of honor.” She swallowed a knot of emotion. “It’s the first sign of a downhill race.”

  Levi’s smile had completely fallen away. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Jesus, Riley. Can’t you be happy for me for like two seconds that there’s any interest in my career at all? I’ve been busting ass to get noticed, and now it’s happening.”

  She snapped her gaze up to his. “I’m happy there’s interest. I’m not happy you brought the sharks to my doorstep.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re here for me, not for you.” Levi’s words grated on her. “Besides, the limelight isn’t all bad. Why can’t you enjoy it? Oh my god, it’s something mainstream happening in your dark and serious world. Or maybe that’s not cool enough for you.”

  She met his intense gaze. Though his tone was friendly, she felt the challenge in his words. The subtle dig. She set her laptop on the countertop, counting to five before responding. This wasn’t the time to get into her personal history with the limelight. Besides, she wasn’t sure Levi deserved to know that about her.

  In this age of hyper-openness, with every celebrity and their mother willing to invite cameras into their lives and bedrooms, Riley tried to take the opposite approach. Minimal social media. A don’t ask, don’t tell policy. And a strict firewall around her heart. One that couldn’t be broached just by one sexy night with a drama-hungry fighter.

  “I guess I can’t expect you to know what it’s like around here.” She dragged her gaze to his, finding fire waiting for her. “You’re new.”

  He laughed incredulously. “Fuck that! I’m new, but it’s not so hard to catch on. Come on, Riley. This shit out here? In Hollywood? It’s all so vapid. Nobody cares, not really. You know how fickle it is. It’s not even fifteen minutes of fame—it’s less. So what does it matter? Besides, it’s not my fault I’m becoming famous.”

  Her eyes widened, and she couldn’t fight the laugh that erupted out of her. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. It’s actually entirely your fault you’re famous. You’re hungry for it. You admitted earlier today that you got into a fight as a publicity stunt! You’re doing everything you can for those fifteen minutes.”

  Levi hopped to his feet. They’d entered full-blown argument territory. And really, she shouldn’t have been surprised. It was always headed this way. With Levi the fame whore and Riley the anti-attention girl, it was only a matter of time before they butted heads and the attraction between them exploded in shards.

  “What’s so wrong with that?” Levi strutted over to her, a strange gleam in his eye. “Maybe you’re content being a nobody, but that’s not what I came to LA for.”

  Content being a nobody. That crossed the line. He could sass all he wanted, but those were fighting words. And she was too tired to fight. Her lips thinned, and she walked to the front door. Unlocking it, she tugged it open and pointed outside. “Go. Get out of here.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest as Levi stared her down.
/>   “Why?”

  “You don’t get it, and it’s fine. But we don’t need to keep pretending. It was a mistake to sleep with you. Now go.”

  She tried her damnedest to keep herself cool and collected, but really, she was straining at the edges, fighting the tears and the wallowing which threatened to overcome her. Levi balled his fists, his neck flushing.

  “Don’t start the fire if you can’t handle the heat,” Levi spat, and then he tore himself out of the studio.

  She locked the door behind him and could hear his gruff voice through the thick glass panes. She peered through a curtain and saw him push through the small crowd of photographers. Angry shouts and then a moment later—crrrrack.

  Riley’s heart sank as she spotted the broken camera on the sidewalk. But Levi stormed away, didn’t even look back once. The photographers shouted, some following. She sighed, pressing her forehead against the window. Shit. This was bad news, but especially for Levi. The paparazzi took action when things like that happened. Depending on who they worked for, they might have lots of money to start a very big lawsuit.

  Riley would know—her dad was the lawyer celebrities turned to for all manner of frivolous and ridiculous suits. Levi had no idea how much she’d seen and lived of the weird underbelly out here. And it sent frustration sizzling through her that he wouldn’t even bother to get to know her before treating her like that.

  She should have expected that Levi would be no exception. It didn’t matter how lush his hair, how leaden his fists, or how amazing in bed he was. He’d burn out like all the other wannabe fireworks that came before him. Especially when he was a loose cannon like this. Beating up d-bags after a night out. Breaking cameras because he was pissed.

  It was the last thing she needed in her life. This was the potent reminder she needed. Because after her and Levi’s night together, she’d spent the entire next day wanting him. Dreaming of him. Imagining the feel of his broad chest beneath her fingertips, the way he’d dug into the flesh of her ass and lifted her as if she weighed nothing.