Only I don’t have one anymore.
I lift my head and text Levi back. Bottom line, we have fun together, and for the rest of the week I’ll focus on that. Colleen deserves a cheerful bridesmaid. Levi does more than put me in a good mood.
I’m free. Meet at Barneys on Wilshire in forty-five?
Great. See you there.
Shopping therapy is exactly what I need right now. I get to the high-end clothing store in twenty so I can look in the women’s section first. I find a cute white off-the-shoulder Rag & Bone sweater that will go great with the asymmetric cream-colored lace skirt I bought last week. It’s the perfect outfit for the rehearsal dinner. After a few more minutes of perusing, I make my single purchase and hoof it back to the first floor to wait for Levi.
“A guy walks into a store and sees this backside and wishes the girl’s clothes would spontaneously fall off,” he whispers in my ear like he’s narrating a show on the mating habits of men.
I grip the shoe shelf I was wasting time with. His breath is hot on my nape. His hand wraps around my waist. I drop my chin to hide the smile his greeting instigates. Not that he can see my face with my back to his front.
“I’ve missed you, Ham,” he adds before I can turn to give him a proper hello.
Once I do twist around, I’m unexpectedly…thrilled. My heart gives an uncharacteristic flutter. I’ve missed him, too. All of him, but especially his shimmering light-brown eyes, which are always so absorbed in me, a girl who never imagined having strong feelings for a guy ever again.
I take a step to the side so I can function a little easier. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says around a smile that could slay every paranormal creature in existence. You know, if vampires and such were a real thing. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Thanks for asking me to meet you.” I mean that sincerely, which is freaking me out. It’s not as weird as I thought, seeing Levi after I confessed my deepest shame.
He palms the back of my head and brings my lips to his in a kiss searing enough to send tingles to my toes. I’m off-balance when he pulls back.
“So, wedding attire.” He rubs a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “I thought you’d like to pick out what you want me to wear. I live in jeans and T-shirts, so I’m highly underequipped for important events.”
I take in said light-blue jeans and plain, V-neck black tee, openly surveying down his body and back up—long legs, trim waist, flat stomach, well-defined chest, neck I want to bite. My body temp goes up a notch. Casual is his jam, and looking around our surroundings, I’m not the only female to think so.
“Let’s do this.” I spin on my heel to lead him upstairs to the men’s department. He falls in step beside me. “The wedding is in my aunt’s backyard. Did I tell you that?”
“No.”
“Preparations have already started.” My mom invited me back home so I wouldn’t have to deal with all the construction and arrangements, but after the mini panic attack I had at brunch, I can’t go there right now. “And because it’s a backyard wedding, the invite calls for casual dressy.”
“Which means?”
“A suit and tie, but I’m thinking we can get away with a sport coat and dress pants since it’s still summer and we’ll be outside.”
“I’m yours to dress…and undress,” he says.
“Do not flirt with me while we’re shopping.”
“Or what?” he teases.
“Or I may end up in the dressing room with you.” Just thinking about wrapping my legs around Levi’s waist while he fucks me against the dressing room mirror makes me throb between my legs.
“Fine by me.”
“Of course it is.”
He leans sideways so his mouth brushes my ear. “I’d like to push up your skirt and bury myself inside you right this minute.”
I shiver. “Maybe later.”
“Definitely later.”
Our sideways glances collide, then just as quickly run away. It’s reassuring to know I’m not the only one affected here. Unsettling, too. I’m beyond scared about feeling too much.
A well-dressed man greets us when we arrive in the land of suits. Since I helped my brother with a suit a few weeks ago in this very place, I’m good to dress Levi without assistance. I thank the sales guy and tell him I’ll give a shout if we need help.
I grab a few pairs of pants and matching coats, along with a white button-down, and hand them to Levi. “Give these a try.”
“Sure.” He takes the items, sweeping his thumb across my knuckles on the handoff. On the way to the dressing room, he holds the clothes up and tells the sales guy he’s trying them on.
“I need a fashion show!” I call after him. Because even though I’m not big on guys in suits, I am big on Levi. I palm my overheated cheeks. This Levi-is-the-bomb mentality has got to stop.
But it doesn’t. Not at all. I know this because when he steps out of the dressing room in an ill-fitting suit, he still looks hotter than any guy I’ve ever seen. I shake my head. He agrees.
Neither of us is sold on the follow-up outfits he models for me, either, so I grab a couple more. Levi haphazardly dumps the clothes he’s already tried on in my arms with a sheepish look. He places the empty hangers on top. God, he’s cute.
“I’m trying these on,” he announces to the sales guy once again. What is up with that?
I re-hang his discards then run my hand over the silk ties while I wait. I think Levi will look sexier with an open collar, but a tie could be fun for other things.
“What do you think?” he asks.
I raise my head. I think he’s gorgeous to the millionth power. The charcoal linen sport coat and gray slacks fit him perfectly, but I need to play it cool. “I like it, but maybe try it with a light blue shirt?” I hurry over to the shirts to pick one up in his size.
My breath hitches when I sense him right behind me. He brushes my hair over my shoulder and ever so softly kisses my neck. His lips are warm. They rouse every nerve ending in my body. “Want to help me try it on?” he whispers.
“Yes. No.” I turn around. Look up into his eyes. “Yes.”
He dips his head to nuzzle my nose with his. “Let’s go.” He takes the shirt out of my hands. I follow behind like a puppy after a bone, and I don’t care.
“Trying this on,” he says, lifting the shirt above his shoulders to show the salesman that I’m vaguely aware of in my periphery.
Salesman. The guy who’s checked me out no fewer than five times while Levi’s been inside the dressing room. “Stop,” I say, halting my steps. “We can’t. Also? What is the deal with you announcing everything you’re trying on to the sales guy?”
“Umm…” A blush blooms across his cheeks. “No deal. Just…”
I veer us behind a manikin, out of direct sight of Sales Guy, who thankfully becomes busy with another shopper. “Tell me.” It’s not a plea, more like inquiring-minds-want-to-know.
He threads his fingers through his excellently tousled hair, making it look even more sexed-up. I want to throw a baseball cap on his head so no one else but me gets to see him like this.
“I have to do it,” he says with a touch of embarrassment.
“Do what exactly?”
“Long story short, when I was eight, my sister, Stephanie, got caught shoplifting some clothes, and I was there with her and my mom, and it left an impression. So now whenever I go shopping, I have to tell the salesperson what I’m bringing into the dressing room so they don’t think I’m trying to steal it.”
I glance at the black shirt folded neatly atop a display case to my right and extend my hand toward it. “So, if I were to try and slip this shirt inside my bag, you’d flip out?” I’ve never stolen a thing in my life—except a candy bar I thought my mom saw me take that one time, so it shouldn’t count—and am only messing with Levi. Now that I know the reason behind his dressing room announcements, they’re kind of adorable.
“Nice try, Ham,” he says calmly, but he grabs
my wrist nonetheless.
“Come on,” I argue, easily pulling my hand back. “Let’s take something. Maybe it will cure you.”
“Or get us arrested.” He’s only half teasing me in return, his stony-faced expression one I imagine he picked up when he was eight and hasn’t let go of since.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” I take a step back, then another, angry with myself for ruining the mood. “Bad joke. I’ll wait for you over here.”
“No need to apologize. I knew you were messing with me, but you’re the first person I’ve told that to, so I guess I felt a little self-conscious.”
“No one’s ever noticed you do that?”
“I do most of my shopping online, otherwise I shop by myself.” He lifts the light blue shirt. “Be right out.”
My head swims with “first person.” After Joe died, I didn’t care about firsts anymore. I gave my virginity to my brother’s college roommate when he brought him home for Christmas break my junior year of high school. We had silent sex in my room with one repeat and then I never saw him again.
I got my first job lifeguarding because Teague pushed me into it.
My first “date” after losing Joe was during my second week at UO, when some grad student mistook me for his blind date and I got the feeling his actual date was a no-show, so I felt bad for him. We had dinner. It was nice and taught me I could hang out with a member of the opposite sex without falling apart. Afterward, he hugged me good night and asked if he could have my number. I nicely said no.
Being Levi’s first anything stirs a myriad of emotions inside me, not the least of which is how he’s my first for a lot of things, too.
He steps out of the dressing area in the new shirt. The light blue wins over the white, adding a bit of color that does crazy things to his already good looks. “That’s it,” I tell him.
“Great. Want to help me undress?”
I can’t help but smile, happy we’re back to flirting. But Sales Guy chooses that moment to offer his positive opinion on Levi’s attire, so there goes the sexy thought of seeing him without clothes on.
“Later” he mouths before he disappears to change.
One little word and I’m counting the seconds until he reappears, because naked or clothed, I like looking at him, talking to him, and being in the same airspace as him.
Fifty-one, fifty-two…
“Ready?” he says, picking up my hand on the way to the cash register. He engages in small talk with the sales guy as he pays, his friendly disposition claiming another layer of my affection.
A cloudless blue sky, pencil thin palm trees, and small city din greet us when we exit the store onto Wilshire Boulevard. “Can I keep you the rest of the day?” Levi asks.
“That all depends. What did you have in mind?”
“Lunch, sex, the Santa Monica pier, a walk along the beach, kissing, dinner, more sex.”
I laugh. But on the inside, something is unfolding, blooming, breathing new life into my ruined heart. I’m not sure I like it. “You’ve given this some thought.”
With his arm around my waist, he positions us against the side of the building, away from foot traffic. “I need to tell you…” He trails off and searches my face. “While in the dressing room, yeah. You game?”
What was he really about to say? I chew on my bottom lip, a move calculated to draw his eyes to my mouth and give me a moment to think. Does it matter what he wanted to say before changing his mind? The second he said he wanted to keep me, he had me.
For today.
Because I won’t fall any more than I already have. I can’t. After Colleen’s wedding, I’m going to tell him I can’t be with him anymore. We’ll see each other because of Teague and Mateo, but not like this.
“I’m game.”
“Great.” We resume walking side-by-side, but he doesn’t take my hand. “How does The Farm sound?”
“It’s one of my favorite places to eat lunch.”
We stop in the parking lot to deposit our bags in our cars. While I wait for Levi, I lean against mine to slip off my shoe and rub my foot. I’m wearing my most uncomfortable heels, thinking I’d meet with Brad and return straight home.
“Your feet hurt?” Levi asks as he rounds the hood. “We can drive if you want.” He takes my foot into his hands, easily covering my size seven. After a brief inspection, he massages top and bottom.
I melt against the car. “No. The fresh air is nice. I’m just not used to these shoes.”
“I meant to ask earlier what had you dressed up.”
My chin drops. Levi’s hands are skilled. I’m ready to sit on the hood and kick off my other heel. “I had a meeting with Brad this morning.”
“What about?”
“The ambassadorship.”
Levi stills. He carefully slips my shoe back into place and lowers my foot to the ground. He knows.
Without making eye contact, he steps around me to fill the spot by my side, connecting us from hip to thigh. “He told you what he hopes to get from you.”
“How do you know that?”
“He mentioned it the other day. He didn’t tell me about Joe. I didn’t know about him until you told me, but he asked if you shared anything about your past with anyone while we were on our shoots. He said he hoped to get you to open up. That he needed you to, if you were to be the kind of ambassador they want.”
I wrap my arms around myself, a chill suddenly racing through me. I’m two seconds away from getting in my car and deep-sixing the rest of the day with Levi, when he leans over and kisses me.
Lips soft yet solid glide over mine with unmistakable care. He takes his time making my mouth feel adored, cherished. He kisses the left corner, then the right. He kisses above my lip line and below. The kiss is one of the most tender he’s ever given me. I’m not sure what he’s trying to tell me, but when I open my eyes and find his already on mine, once again I’m lost to him. He slowly pulls back.
“I don’t talk about it,” I say softly.
“You talked to me.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?” He nudges my knee. “Because I’ve been inside you?”
Because of so much more than that. “Yes. You’re not a stranger, and wrapped in your arms, I felt gutsy enough to tell you.”
“You’re not weak, Harper. Far from it.”
“Can we not talk about it anymore?” I need time to think about it on my own, without discussion or interference.
“Talk about what?” he returns lightly, helping to right my world.
At the same time, I fear it’s crumbling.
Chapter Seventeen
Levi
Harper hasn’t noticed me yet, idling inside the entrance of the restaurant, so taken with her that all I can do is stare. She’s standing across the semi-crowded room talking to her cousin and a few other people. Her lustrous brown hair is in a high ponytail. Her white off-the-shoulder sweater stretches across her chest and hugs her small frame. A lacy skirt shows off her calves.
She is stunning. Sexy as all get-out.
“I’m sorry. The restaurant is closed for a private party.”
I turn my attention to the person on my right just as Harper’s eye catches mine. “Hi,” I say to the attractive middle-aged woman. If I hadn’t run into Harper’s mom a few weeks ago, I’d think this woman might be her. “I know. I’m late.” Really late. Why didn’t I just forget coming? I extend my hand. “I’m Levi Pierce. Harper invited me.”
“You’re Levi,” the woman says, like she’s heard all about me. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Betsy, mother of the bride and Harper’s aunt.”
“Nice to meet you, too. And congratulations.”
“Hey,” Harper says, coming up beside me. “I thought I told you—”
“I’ll leave you two alone,” Betsy says. “Levi, please be sure to grab a drink and some food if there’s any left.”
“Thank you. I will.”
“I thought I told you not to c
ome,” Harper says with annoyance.
She did tell me that, when I texted her I was stuck at work for a few more hours and I’d meet up with her as soon as I could. I’m probably breaking some rule of etiquette showing up late like this.
“I missed you,” I say. It’s the 100 percent truth. After a long day on set for a new television show, I wanted to see her. It’s not my smartest move. I’m getting in way over my head with her now, but I can’t seem to stop.
“That is not an okay reason to do something I asked you not to.”
I take her hand and play with her fingers. “Are you annoyed I’m here or because I’m here now?” She fiddles with my fingers in return. “Because whichever it is, you’re beautiful when you’re in a bad mood.”
“Stop complimenting me.”
“Never.”
“God, you’re annoying,” she says with very little agitation behind it now. She’s trying to push me away, but not really. I get it. I’m feeling like I want to push, too, before she breaks my heart.
“That’s not what you said the other day when I had you in my bed and—”
“Zip it.” She pinches my lips together.
We had a fantastic day after shopping at Barney’s. The highlights of which were sex on her kitchen table when we stopped at her place so she could change her clothes, riding the rollercoaster again and again at the pier, showing off my sandcastle skills, sex on my couch, sex in my shower, and sex in my bed.
What can I say? I’m a Sex God.
A thought I immediately toss out of my head when a man who looks like he could be in the mafia approaches us. His stern stare is much more intense now than it was when we were kids.
“Hi, Dad, having a good time?”
“I am,” he says, not taking his eyes off me.
“Levi, you probably don’t remember him, but this is my dad, William. Dad, this is my date for the wedding, Levi Pierce. We were friends as kids.”
I give him a firm handshake. “I do remember. Hello, sir.”
“Hello. I trust you won’t be late to the wedding.” His tone is difficult to decipher, but I think I hear a warning.
“No, I won’t. I’m not on-set this weekend so no worries there.”
Lips Close to Mine (Wherever You Go) Page 16