by Aly Martinez
A million clients called; Levee didn’t.
Anxiety wouldn’t allow me to just write her off though. Every night, I marched up that bridge hoping to find a pair of designer shoes lurking in the shadows.
They never were.
For as much relief as it gave me each night when she wasn’t there, an ache grew in my chest.
I miss her.
It wasn’t long until I’d lived up to the nickname she’d given me and became a legit Internet stalker. During one of my many Google searches on her, I found that she’d canceled several of her upcoming performances. Tabloid speculation was that she was pregnant with Henry Alexander’s love child. They’d even posted obviously edited pictures of her alleged baby bump. More reliable sources reported that she was headed to rehab. I couldn’t imagine Levee being hooked on drugs, but how well did I really know her? And the pendulum of my anxiety swung, leaving me worried all over again.
Originally, I’d been grateful for the distraction Levee had provided me. If only I could have figured out how to distract myself from her. It wasn’t like we had some torrid love affair I’d never be able to recover from. It was simply a flash-in-the-pan romance that never should have happened in the first place.
I needed to let her go and move on.
I just couldn’t actually do it.
At all.
Chapter Twelve
Levee
“I REALLY WISH you would stay home,” Henry said, sprawled across my bed.
When he’d arrived at my house the night Sam had walked away, he had done it with a huge suitcase wheeling behind him. I hadn’t initially questioned it, but by day three, when a moving truck had shown up in my driveway, it had become abundantly clear that he was moving in. He hadn’t necessarily asked if I was okay with living together again, but I hadn’t exactly argued as a herd of movers had transformed two—yes, two—of my guest rooms into Henry’s personal sanctuary.
“I have to get out of this house. I’m dying of boredom,” I replied, stepping into a pair of washed-out skinny jeans. “Why don’t you go out and do something tonight?”
After riffling through my drawers, I pulled on a New York T-shirt that hung off one of my shoulders. Simple, comfortable, and exactly what I needed.
“Hideous,” Henry vetoed from the bed. “And no, thanks. I need some downtime.”
I huffed then yanked the shirt back over my head and stomped into my closet. “When did you become such a homebody?” I called as I began searching through the rows of shirts.
“When the cockless love of my life decided she was going to jump off a bridge,” he said, appearing in the doorway.
I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Meh. I’ll get over it. You just scared the piss out of me. I’m not much in the mood for going out without you these days.” He smiled absently as he became enthralled with his reflection in the full-length mirror.
While I wasn’t exactly in the know about Henry’s schedule, I knew that it wasn’t open. He was a busy guy. Yet, somehow, he’d managed to spend every waking minute of the last week at my side. Which meant he’d witnessed me obsessing and worrying about Sam firsthand.
Which also meant he already knew the answer when he asked, “Still nothing from Sam?”
Over the previous week, I’d slowly begun the process of getting my life in order while preparing for a month-long stint at a luxury resort. (Read: crazy camp/rehab.) I wasn’t addicted to drugs, but according to the doctor Henry had forced me to see the morning after Sam’s little revelation, depression, anxiety, and exhaustion were my poison. I couldn’t say that I disagreed. I also couldn’t say that I liked it. The press was going to have a field day, but Stewart assured me that we could keep it quiet. I laughed. Nothing was ever quiet in the music industry. The rumors were already circulating.
During all of it, I had mostly been concerned with what Sam would think when he heard the news. Would he be happy? Relieved? Still angry? Would he allow me a chance to at least apologize? I felt like an ass, but I missed his wicked grin and his golden eyes.
I missed the way his hands warmed me. And especially the way they sent chills down my spine.
Honestly, I missed the calm I felt with him just standing next to me smoking a cigarette.
“Nope,” I replied curtly, taking the emerald-green tunic top he’d picked out from his hands.
“Then stop moping and call him, Levee. Put your damn pride aside and just call the man.”
“And say what? ‘Sorry I’m a basket case workaholic who can’t even remember to eat on my own’? ‘Sorry I kicked you out of my house for trying to help me’? ‘Sorry I met you on the top of a bridge while contemplating suicide The exact same bridge that your sister jumped off. You want to go on another date with me?’ Yeah. No, thanks.” I laughed even as tears built in my eyes. “Let’s not forget that, even if I could magically find the words to say, I have no one to tell them to. He hasn’t exactly been beating down my door.”
Just because I hadn’t seen Sam since he’d stormed out of my house didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about him. I’d flipped my house on end but never could find that scrap of paper he’d given me with his cell number. I’d finally given up. I’d called rePURPOSEd more times than I’d ever admit, hanging up before anyone had the chance to answer, sometimes even before the first ring.
For a person who could tell an entire story within the lyrics of a three-minute song, I couldn’t find the words to fix things with Sam. I was mortified about the way I’d acted the last time I’d seen him. Here was a guy I genuinely liked, who’d gotten a front-row seat to one of the biggest meltdowns of my life. Embarrassment couldn’t even begin to cover it.
“Okay,” he sighed. “Maybe you should lead with sex. ‘Hey, I’m sorry, but can you at least stop by for another romp in the sack, and this time, let my pal Henry touch your cock?’”
My mouth fell open in a mixture of anger and disgust, but Henry threw his hands up to stop me before I had the chance to unleash it on him.
“I’m kidding!” He lowered his voice and mumbled, “Kinda.”
I hurled a coat hanger at his head.
He dodged it.
It was very anticlimactic.
“You’re lucky I love you,” I warned, stepping into a pair of black pumps.
Henry cleared his throat. “Wedges.”
I glared at him for several seconds but eventually stepped to the side and slid the nude wedges on instead.
“In all seriousness, Levee. I’m not sure a new boyfriend is what you need right now. But I certainly am not going to stop you. Reach out to him. Give him the chance to tell you to fuck off.”
I flinched. That’s exactly what I was afraid of.
“Orrrr…more than likely so he can apologize too. Have you stopped to think he might be feeling just as weird about the way things went down as you are? So what if he hasn’t popped up on your doorstep like some lost puppy. That doesn’t mean he isn’t wishing you’d show up on his.”
God, I hated when Henry made sense.
But what I really hated was knowing he made sense and being too afraid to listen to his advice.
“I have to go. I’m going to be late.” I scrunched my hair one last time in the mirror before heading to the door.
“You’re being ridiculous!” he called after me.
“See you in two hours. I’ll bring back dinner,” I replied as if he hadn’t spoken.
“No sushi!”
“Then no dinner!”
I smiled when I heard him curse.
When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I found Devon waiting for me with a wide smile.
“You look beautiful,” he said warmly.
“Thanks.”
“You know he’s just going to ask me to get him something besides sushi, right?” Devon said, fishing his phone from his pocket. He turned it to face me and lifted his fingers in the air to count down from three. No sooner had he tucked the las
t digit away than a text appeared on his phone.
Henry: Can you bring me back something to eat that doesn’t taste like it washed up on a radioactive beach?
I burst out laughing. “What does that even mean?” I asked as he shoved the phone back in his pocket, ignoring the text completely.
“I’ve learned not to ask with Henry,” he replied, using a hand at the small of my back to usher me out the door.
* * *
“Levee!” Morgan squealed when I walked into her hospital room.
“Hey there, pretty girl. How have you been?” I replied as my heart wrenched in my chest.
Little wires still dangled off her body, but her nasal cannula was gone and her color seemed somewhat better.
Her mother stood from a chair tucked away in the corner and extended her hand for a shake. I hugged her instead.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was thinking about Miss Morgan tonight.” I squeezed her blanket-covered foot. “So I decided to come up here and see how things were going before I head out of town for a while.”
“Wow. That’s so sweet of you. We weren’t expecting to see you again. I’m glad you came though. Morgan’s been wanting to say thank you for all of the Henry Alexander stuff you left at the nurses’ station.”
“Aww. That was no problem. Henry was happy to do it. I promise I’ll drag him up here one day. He’s not big on hospitals, something about the nurses not letting him eat all the red Jell-O,” I teased.
Morgan rewarded me with a giggle. “I made Henry a thank-you card. Could you…maybe…give it to him for me?” she asked nervously.
“Of course! He’ll love it.”
I laughed as she all but clapped in celebration.
“Mom! Get the card!”
“On it!” Her mom, whose name my frazzled brain couldn’t remember, smiled as she moved to the other side of the bed. “Where’d you put it, sweetheart?”
“I put it between two books on my shelf to keep the glitter from falling out.”
“Ohhhhh, Henry loves glitter,” I exaggerated with wide eyes.
That time, she actually did clap.
Her mother laughed as she walked to the other side of the room. My eyes found her destination even before she did.
A familiar hollowed-out guitar filled with books leaned against the wall.
“Where… How…” I gasped as my heart pounded in my chest. “Is that a guitar bookshelf?” I asked as if it were an oasis in the desert that only I could see.
“Yep,” Morgan chirped from her bed behind me.
I stood frozen in the middle of the room, but for the way my chest ached, I might as well have been transported back to the top of the bridge.
“Oh God,” I breathed.
“Pretty cool, huh. My uncle Sam made it for me,” Morgan prattled on, oblivious to my impending emotional breakdown.
“Levee,” her mother called, forcing me to drag my attention away from the guitar. “Everything okay?”
“Did…um…Sam Rivers happen to make that?”
“Yeah. Jeez. That little punk must be doing better than I thought for you to recognize one of his pieces.”
“Actually…I know him. He showed me a picture of that bookcase on his phone once.” I cleared my throat to keep the quiver out of my voice.
“You know Uncle Sam?”
“Seriously?”
They gasped in unison.
I laughed to tamp down the tears I feared I wouldn’t be able to hold back any longer. Turning back to face Morgan, I pasted on a smile. “We’re… We used to be friends.”
“Cool!” Morgan exclaimed.
When my gaze shifted to her mother, her face was soft in understanding. “So…” I paused sheepishly. “I’m sorry. I’m about to sound really rude, but I don’t remember your name.”
“Oh, that’s okay. It’s Meg.”
“Sorry. I’m really forgetful sometimes.”
“No need to apologize.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’d way rather you remember Morgan’s anyway.”
“So, Meg, is Sam your brother?”
“Oh, God, no. He’s my little brother Ryan’s best friend. I guess we kinda grew up together. I’ve known that kid since he was a pimple-faced geek.”
I couldn’t imagine Sam ever looking anything but gorgeous, and disbelief must have read on my face.
“I’m serious,” she insisted. “Before all of that ink, he was a dork. He sure grew up well though.” She waggled her eyebrows.
I laughed again, and my cheeks blushed. “Yeah, he definitely did.”
“He’s always been a good guy though.”
He really is.
I swallowed hard and glanced down at my heels.
“Small world. You’ll have to tell him I said hi.”
And that I miss him.
And want to see him.
And hold him.
And be with him.
“Sure,” she drawled suspiciously.
I had to stop obsessing about him. Time to move on.
Squaring my shoulders, I walked back over and sat in the chair next to the bed. “So, Morgan, show me this card for Henry.”
For twenty minutes, Morgan talked my ear off. She definitely wasn’t shy anymore. I wasn’t even sure she took a breath. I only had an hour before Devon was going to drag me out of there—doctor’s orders. I kept waiting for Meg to chime in and give me an opportunity to move on to some of the other patients, but she just smiled and snapped pictures.
“Maybe, when my hair grows back, it will be curly and we can be like twins!”
“Maybe it will. But straight hair is pretty too. How about this? Send me a picture whenever it grows back, and I’ll send you a curling iron if need be. We can still be twins.”
“Okay!” Morgan excitedly agreed as someone knocked on the door.
“Come in!” Meg shouted.
“Well, I better get going. That’s probably the nurse here to kick me out.” I leaned down to hug Morgan when a deep, panty-drenching voice filled the air.
“Who’s stalking who now, Designer Shoes?”
I closed my eyes, praying that he wasn’t there and equally hoping that my ears weren’t deceiving me. When I spun to the door, my chest seized as I found Sam standing with his hands in his pockets and a one-sided grin pulling at his sexy lips.
Sam
I couldn’t help myself. The moment a text from Meg popped up on my phone with a picture of Levee and Morgan, my feet rushed from my house before my mind even had a chance to catch up. Her message scrolled through my head during my entire drive to the hospital.
Meg: Dumbass, I’m not sure how you know Levee Williams, but get your ass up here. She almost burst into tears when she saw the guitar.
By the time I came to my senses, remembering why I had stayed away in the first place, I was staring into her devastating, brown eyes from across the hospital room.
Fuck my senses.
Going to her was the right move—a fact I knew so deeply that I couldn’t believe I’d managed to stay away as long as I had. The hospital was neutral territory. It didn’t feel like I was forcing myself on her by showing up at her security gate, pleading for a piece of the celebrity. I just needed to apologize and see how she was doing. I’d be okay if nothing ever happened between us again, but I’d regret it if I never got a chance to apologize.
Then I’ll let her go.
I had to. Self-preservation was a real bitch like that.
Our gazes locked as we both silently apologized. Words weren’t even necessary. I could see it in her eyes, and I prayed that she could see it in mine.
I tried to remind myself that I was only torturing myself, that I’d never be able to fully relax with a woman like her. And, God, did I need a chance to relax after the last few years.
But, then again, she wasn’t Anne.
She was Levee.
More than that, I wanted her to be mine.
As if she could read my tho
ughts, her chin quivered and tears sprang to her eyes. I tossed her a tight grin that said nothing but somehow also said it all.
Her red lips split in a breathtaking smile that instantly quelled the anxiety I’d been living with for the last week.
Jesus Christ. What is wrong with me?
She was standing right in front of me, and my body ached to hold her.
To feel her.
To help her.
To allow her to heal…me.
Fuck it. I couldn’t let that go.
Not because of a garbage truck full of what-ifs. I’d told Levee once that I wasn’t perfect and I didn’t want her to be, either, but then, at the first sign of trouble, I’d hit the road to spare myself. I’d known from the first moment I laid eyes on her what I was getting into. I might not have known she was some super celebrity, but I’d known she was damaged. We’d met on the top of a bridge for God’s sake, yet there I stood as if I were surprised she had issues. I’d known it then, and I’d known it when I’d decided to take her to bed. But, worst of all, I’d known it when feelings above lust or worry had begun to spiral out of control. I hadn’t been sure what those feelings were, but I had known they were there.
And I knew I wanted them to stay.
I was a man, and it was time to start acting like it. I could survive the tumultuous wake Levee Williams would surely leave behind. But what I couldn’t survive was letting her walk away without even trying. In the span of five seconds, I’d thrown all of my apprehensions out the window and come to the decision that I desperately wanted something with her. I just needed to figure out a way to make her come to that decision too.
“C’mere,” I whispered, hoping she’d at least give me that.
A sob bubbled in her throat, but she rushed in my direction, not stopping until she collided into me.
“I’ve missed you so much,” she told my chest, and relief flooded my veins.
Well, that was easier than I expected.
I chuckled, wrapping my arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head.