Lips Close to Mine (Wherever You Go)

  My chest feels like she’s kicked me in the balls all over again. I know my balls aren’t in my chest, but you get my drift, right? Of course you do. Because there’s something about you that makes us copacetic, or whatever that word is that means like-minded.

  Sincerely,

  Levi

  Chapter Fourteen

  Harper

  If not for Colleen, I wouldn’t be here.

  My emotions have been so jumbled up lately, that this is the last place I want to be right now. Sunday brunch is in full swing, with thirty or so close friends and family members gathered to celebrate Colleen and George. I sit at a linen covered table on the grass and stare at the smooth surface of the swimming pool. Big floating flower balls of white roses decorate the water, making it something different. Something beautiful. Ever since the night Joe drowned, whenever my mom entertains out here, she includes the flower balls, as if adding something pure and simple will erase the ugliness of what happened.

  It helps her forget, and she hopes it helps me, too, so I tell her it does.

  “Here you go,” Colleen says, taking the seat next to me. She passes me a mimosa in a champagne flute.

  “Thanks, Leelee. Cheers.” I clink my glass to her pure OJ filled crystal.

  “Cheers.”

  “So, this time next week you’ll be a married woman.”

  “And on a plane to Cabo thanks to Teague. She arranged the most amazing trip, and I can’t wait to get away with George. The past month has been insane, and my mom and I are about ready to strangle each other.”

  “You should’ve eloped to Vegas.”

  “And rob my mother of throwing her only daughter a wedding? I’d be dead,” Colleen says with mock outrage.

  I flinch at that last word. Rather than let my cousin see how her innocent comment unnerves me, I down my mimosa.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  So much for hiding my heartache. I plaster on a fake smile. “Yeah. I’m a little warm, that’s all.” The weatherman did predict a heat wave for the next few days.

  Colleen lays the back of her hand on my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.”

  “Thanks, Mom,” I tease. “This is a sun issue.” And location issue. I don’t have a problem being inside the house. Good memories live there, strong enough to push away fleeting moments of grief. But I’m at my limit for sitting poolside.

  Snapshots of the night Joe drowned start to seize me, and wherever I look, I can’t erase them. I jump to my feet. “I’m going to grab some water. Can I get you one?”

  Colleen’s attention moves across the grass as she rises. “Please.”

  “Help!” someone shouts. “I need help!”

  My heart leaps inside my chest. I follow Colleen’s gaze. Benjamin, my uncle’s business partner’s son, is slumped over at the edge of the pool. His feet are in the water, and his mom is hugging his back to her chest. Ben is a teenager.

  I don’t think. I run to their side. Muscle memory takes over. It’s been a while since I’ve had to rescue someone, but I’m trained to take action. I gently pull Ben from his mom, laying him back on the ground then pulling his feet out of the water so he’s in a face-up position with his legs straight. I scan the area to make sure it’s safe and no one is in jeopardy of falling into the pool. “Ben? Are you okay? Are you okay?” I tap his shoulders and get no response. “Did you see him pass out?” I ask his mom. “Was he eating anything? Feeling okay earlier?”

  “He was f-f-fine,” she says between a sob. “I saw him with a handful of grapes a few minutes ago, and I came over because I noticed he was clutching his throat.”

  I check for a pulse and breathing and find neither. Looking up, I see my brother, Carson. “Call 9-1-1,” I tell him.

  “On it,” he says, standing above me with his cell phone in hand. Carson explains the situation to the emergency dispatcher as I open Ben’s button-down shirt and start chest compressions. I’m aware of more people surrounding us, more concern, more whispers.

  “Tell them he’s unresponsive, and I’ve started CPR,” I say. I count my compressions out loud. When I get to thirty, I open the airway to give breaths, but before I do, I look in the back of his throat for a grape. Seeing nothing, I give two breaths then repeat compressions.

  “Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.” I open the airway, look inside his mouth again. Nothing. Give two breaths.

  I continue with another round, and this time when I look in the back of his throat, I see a grape. I do a finger sweep and get the object out. Ben makes a sound and blinks his eyes open.

  Relief swamps me. I help him sit up. The next few minutes go by in a haze. Ben’s parents can’t thank me enough. Other friends and family give their support and praise. I’m stuck in the middle of a small crowd, and I break out in a cold sweat. I need to escape before I have a panic attack in front of everyone. All of a sudden, I’m back to the worst night of my life.

  I come to with pain on the side of my head. Pushing up, I lightly rub my fingers across the sore spot. Lying next to me is a big decorative rock with the words Soak Up The Sun written in bold black letters. I must have hit my head on it. I blink away my confusion then glace down at myself. I’m half undressed. It all comes back to me.

  Joe!

  Frantic, I look around, praying his big, beautiful body is beside me, but it isn’t. My gaze rushes to the pool, and I choke back a scream. Joe is floating in the water, facedown. I hurry to my feet, swaying with dizziness, but don’t care. Oh God. Please, please, please. I jump into the water. “Joe! Joe!” He’s in the deep end, so I’m unable to stand. My head is throbbing. My heart is pounding. I turn his body over. “Joe!” He doesn’t respond. I have no idea how long he’s been in the water, but his face is sickeningly pale. I don’t think he’s breathing.

  I kick as hard as I can and swim with him toward the shallow end. “Joe.” My voice is raspy, my limbs tired. Once my feet touch the bottom, I check for a pulse. There isn’t one. “Joe, Joe, please wake up.” I’m crying. Bawling. I need to get him out of the water and start CPR.

  “Harper?” I’m vaguely aware of someone saying my name. Where am I? I’m not at the pool anymore. I’m in my room…

  I can’t stop shaking. My hands, my shoulders, my legs, my lips, my whole body won’t stop trembling. I don’t know what to do about it. I wrap my arms around myself, but I still keep shivering. How long will I be stuck like this?

  “Here, sweetie,” my mom says, returning to my bedroom with a glass of water and a sleeping pill. I didn’t know she took them until five minutes ago. She’s given me no choice in the matter. She says it will help my body shut down after the traumatic event I just experienced. I wish it would erase my memory, too.

  She sits beside me on the bed and watches me swallow the sleep aid. I can barely get it down, my throat is so raw from the screams and sobs I couldn’t stop until she brought me inside the house.

  Joe drowned.

  I am never going to see or talk to him again.

  Never touch, laugh, kiss, or smile with him again.

  The pain of that is unbearable. My heart is shriveling. With each passing minute, the beats wither. I think that’s why I’m not crying anymore. Or talking. I don’t have enough energy.

  Mom takes the glass from my hand and helps me to lie down. She tucks the covers around me, kisses my forehead, and says she loves me and will be back to check on me. She turns out the light, but leaves the bedroom door open. She walks down the hallway, looks over her shoulder toward my room, then goes down the stairs.

  I curl into a ball. When will I stop vibrating with sadness and hate? I did this. It’s my fault Joe is dead. He wanted to come up to my bedroom to have sex, but I said by the pool would be more romantic. As usual, he let me have my way.

  And now he’s gone.

  “Harper? Hey.” There’s a hand on my shoulder, puncturing the bubble I’m in. “The paramedics are here.”

  I blink back into focus. Everything is bright ag
ain. Colleen helps me to my unsteady feet. Sweat trickles down the middle of my back. It’s hard to breathe. “Go,” she whispers. “Get out of here.” One look and she knew I needed to disappear. I slip away from the scene. I’ll call my mom later to apologize for leaving early.

  The pain from that night follows me to my car and I hate it. Normally, I can cope, but today got to me. Ben got to me.

  Instead of driving the few blocks home, I find myself driving the few miles to Levi’s. He seems to be the only one who can help relieve my grief, and having his strong arms around me sounds really good right now.

  I’m halfway up the walkway to his house when the front door opens. Elliot is on his way out. “Hi, Harper,” he says, surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?”

  “Hi. Is Levi home?”

  “That depends. What are you here for?” His tone is lighthearted, but I’m in no mood for jokey Elliot.

  “Is he here or not?” I snap.

  “Yeah. He’s in his room.” He looks at me funny then reaches behind him to push the door open. “Go on in.”

  “Thanks. Where are you off to?” I ask nicely. I hope it makes up for snapping at him.

  “The job from hell at the moment.”

  “Don’t work too hard,” I say as I pass him into the house.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen, but thanks.”

  I venture down the hallway to the open doorway of Levi’s bedroom. He’s sitting on his bed with a laptop on his outstretched legs. His back is against a leather-upholstered headboard. His head is down. He’s wearing eyeglasses and concentrating on something so he doesn’t notice me. For a few uninterrupted seconds I watch him, the only sound his fingers on the keyboard.

  When he senses me and lifts his head, I’m at a loss for words. He is super sexy in his black-rimmed eyeglasses. I have a thing for guys in glasses. It elevates their irresistible status. Add in the stubble that lines Levi’s jaw, chin, and upper lip, the dirty blond hair that is standing up in every direction, and if I were wearing socks they’d be knocked off.

  He blinks like he’s not sure I’m real.

  “Hi,” I say nervously. Which is unlike me, but I remember how Levi acted really weird during yesterday’s shoot. He was much quieter than normal and didn’t make eye contact like he usually does. When I asked if he was okay, he said a simple “yes.”

  “Hey.”

  “If this is a bad time, I can go.” I take a step back.

  “No.” He sets his computer on the bedside table. “Stay.”

  That’s all I need to hear. I slip out of my heels, shut the bedroom door, and tiptoe to the bed. Without another word, I climb next to him and lay my head on his chest, my arm over his stomach. He scoots us down so we’re lying flat. Wraps his arm around me and holds me close.

  I squeeze my eyes shut so I don’t cry. This is exactly where I want to be, cocooned against Levi’s warm body. For a long time, we don’t say anything. I think I doze off for a few. He makes me forget, takes me somewhere outside myself where it’s just him and me.

  “What are you working on?” I ask in the comfortable silence.

  “Brad asked me to edit some of the footage we shot yesterday.”

  “You’re an editor, too?”

  “I’m not too bad at it, especially when I’ve got beautiful talent to work with.”

  I smile because he can’t see me.

  “I feel you smiling, Ham.”

  Damn it. “Can I see what you’ve done so far?”

  “No,” he says calmly.

  “No?” I push up and glare at him.

  A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. And God, I love how his eyes turn slightly downward. He took his glasses off at some point while we were resting, so I’m blessed with a clear view of golden-brown tenderness fringed with dark lashes.

  “Brad would kick my ass if I showed you, because your opinion doesn’t hold any weight, and I mean that in the nicest possible way. His decisions are the only ones that matter, but I promise you’re going to like the results.”

  I stick my tongue out at him then rest the side of my face on his chest again. I guess that makes sense, even though I don’t like it. I’ve got everything invested in these PSAs, since this morning I turned down my dad’s job offer. After he cornered me at brunch, ticking off reasons why he wants me to be part of his company, I lost all patience. If I give him even an inch, he’ll take a mile. He’ll force his beliefs and thoughts and rules down my throat until I choke on them, thus killing any affection I have for the man.

  To say he was angry would be an understatement, but he had to get over himself quickly because of all the guests arriving. I’m not sure where this leaves the two of us, and that’s my bad, given this week is filled with wedding stuff for Colleen and I have to be around him more than usual. I let out a deep, audible breath. My timing could have been better.

  “Trust me,” Levi says, clueless to the real reason for my heavy sigh.

  “I do.” The admission causes a quiver in the pit of my stomach.

  “Talk to me, then.” He softly rubs my arm. “Why are you here, Harp?”

  I don’t answer him.

  “I overheard someone once say it’s better to err on the side of yes,” he says. “I get being cautious, but I promise I won’t hold anything you tell me against you.”

  Maybe he won’t. Maybe he’ll say all the right things, or say nothing at all and hold me tighter. The reasons I stay guarded, though, have nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. If I do this, if I let him in, then I can’t hide behind my fear anymore, can I? When I push him away, or pretend none of whatever is happening between us matters beyond a good time in bed, he’ll know better.

  “I have a better idea.” I sit up and straddle his hips, hiking my sundress up so he gets a peek at my white lace panties. This makes me a coward, but I’m Levi’s coward, and this is the best I’m capable of giving at the moment.

  His hands land on my waist. “You want to wrestle?” he teases.

  “Your clothes off.”

  “Think you can?”

  “I know I can.” I wiggle against him. He grows hard beneath his thin athletic shorts, the solid ridge of his cock hitting me in exactly the right spot, reassuring me I’ve got this. I want him inside me, but I’m happy to start with going down on him. There’s nowhere else I have to be today.

  “Know what I think?”

  God, his tone is a combination of sexy and endearing that tugs on more than my desire. If I had the nerve, I’d ask for everything he’s thinking. I’ve wondered what it would be like to get that close to someone again. Could I handle it? Or would I retreat behind a bigger wall?

  I slip my fingers under the well-worn cotton of his shirt and smooth my hands up his abdomen and over his chest, enjoying the muscles that shift underneath my touch. He’s the one. The one person to make me wonder the most, to think about pressing a soft kiss to his neck and whispering, “You make me feel more than I ever have before.”

  “You don’t have to tell me. I can feel what you think.” I grind against him a little more forcefully. We’re done talking. It’s time for doing.

  He cocks an eyebrow and, faster than I expected, pulls my dress up and over my head. Appreciation takes over his expression as he openly stares at my bare body. My nipples snap to attention, turning into hard, achy points. “I love dresses with no bra required,” he says.

  I return the favor and drag his shirt up to his armpits. He lifts his arms in assistance, and once I’ve got the shirt over his face, I abandon it to kiss his chest. He chuckles and takes care of ridding himself of the material. I kiss my way to his shoulder, his collarbone, his throat, breathing in his masculine, shower-fresh scent as I go.

  “I need those lips up here,” he says. “Now.”

  I’m not one to take orders, but Levi’s bossy voice does it for me. I smash my mouth to his. He immediately takes over, leading me in an openmouthed kiss that resonates between my thighs. It�
�s intense, playful, consuming. His tongue does things to the inside of my mouth that sizzle my bones. I want to try for the kissing world record. Kiss Levi for hours and hours straight? Sign me up. Only me.

  I push that possessive thought aside as he cups the back of my head. His other hand roams up and down my spine, making my skin quiver.

  Then his fingers gently dig into my hip, and he playfully flips me onto my back. I sink into the soft, comfortable bedding with a stupid smile on my face.

  His body covers mine, all muscly, strong, protective. When he presses up on his elbows and fixes a hot, irresistible gaze on me, it’s official. He can handcuff me to this bed, and I won’t put up a fight.

  “We’re doing this,” he says with a low, gravelly voice.

  “No argument from me.”

  “And later I’m buying you dinner.”

  I’m not sure why that’s important to him, but okay. “Can we eat it right here?”

  He thinks about how to answer that. He’s got me twice more this week, for the rehearsal dinner and wedding, so it’s not like I’m going to run after this. I just want to be alone with him. Keep him all to myself.

  I roll my head to the side, look out the window. All of a sudden, maintaining eye contact is too hard.

  “Sure,” he concedes, gently grasping my chin and turning my head back to his so he can kiss me again.

  I take his kiss and raise him. I glide my hands down his back, underneath the waistband of his shorts and underwear, and palm his ass, pulling him tighter to my center. I’m a ticking time bomb, ready to get off with him. Foreplay is great, but I feel like we’ve been doing that for weeks, and more than anything I need Levi moving inside me.

  He makes a sound of appreciation inside my mouth before moving his kisses down my neck. The feather-light pressure he uses is delicious and tortuous at the same time. His sexy, barely-there stubble scrapes just right. I wiggle and arch my back. He drops to my boobs and licks and sucks them while his hand starts to expertly rub over my panties.