Lips Close to Mine (Wherever You Go)

by Bielman, Robin

  My phone dings with a text, but while I hear it, I don’t see it. I look through the small pile of clothes I brought with me without luck. A second text sounds, drawing my eye to my pillow. The phone sticks out from underneath it. My mom had texted early this morning reminding me not to be late to my aunt’s house, and I’d read it while still curled up beside Levi.

  It’s probably her again, asking if I’m on my way, or worse, wanting to know how Levi is. The one flaw—actually there are a couple of flaws—in staying with Levi this weekend is that everyone in my family knows I’m here. Kind of hard to keep it a secret when I’m not in the guesthouse only a few feet away from wedding central.

  I stretch across the bed to pick up the phone. It’s not my mom.

  Your ass is spectacular.

  My cheeks flame around my grin. I’ve received compliments from guys over the years, but none have ever gotten a reaction from me like Levi’s continue to do.

  I want to bite it.

  Levi Pierce is ruining me. It’s yours whenever you want it, I quickly type then hold my finger down on the backspace key to delete it. I try again. Stop. I need to get dressed. That’s better. I hit send and notice the little dots are already at work on his end.

  How am I going to get through the day now, when all I’ll be able to think about is you bending over my bed like that.

  I spin around. Levi is leaning against the doorframe, one leg casually crossed over the other, an entirely too-attractive look of appreciation on his face. I pin him with an annoyed glare.

  “Do not step foot in here,” I say. If he gets within touching distance, I will lose what little self-control I have left.

  His gaze rakes over my body, threatening said control in a big way. I never imagined feeling this way again, like I’d do anything to have this one person keep looking at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted.

  “I won’t. Just admiring the view. You don’t mind if I watch you dress, do you?”

  Gah. He makes me feel powerful and helpless at the same time. I clumsily put on my bra, followed by my shirt and shorts, then slide my feet into flip-flops.

  “Is it safe, now?” Levi asks, pushing away from the doorframe.

  “No,” I answer truthfully. Levi isn’t safe. Not in the slightest.

  He saunters into the room anyway, wrapping me in a hug and kissing the side of my forehead in that cherished way of his. “Have fun getting ready today.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Oh, hey. I got you something. Meant to give it to you yesterday.” He steps over to his dresser and picks up a small drawstring gift bag sitting atop it. “A little girl down the street had a booth set up on the corner and was selling these to raise money for cancer research.”

  I take the gift with an uncomfortable ache in the middle of my chest, so of course I say something insensitive. “What happened to good old-fashioned lemonade stands?”

  “I still see those sometimes, too,” he says, seemingly unaware of my nervousness.

  He takes my elbow and we sit side by side on the edge of his bed. I hold the lightweight bag in my lap, not at all sure I want to see what’s inside. It’s not only that Levi is the first guy to buy me a gift since Joe. It’s that a gift tied to charity, and the kindheartedness of a child, makes it something special whether I want it to be or not. After all, my own heart is wrapped up in philanthropy.

  “Is it one of her parents?” I ask.

  “Her brother, actually,” he says with compassion.

  I close my eyes for a moment to say a silent prayer. My world was forever changed in one day. What happens when you have to live with the possibility of horrific change day after day after day? “I hope she sold out of these.”

  “I’m pretty sure she did.” He gently bumps my arm. “Open it. When I saw what she was selling, I immediately thought of you.”

  Inside the bag is a piece of jewelry made out of thin black nylon cord and a silver charm.

  “It’s an anklet,” Levi says as I pull it out. “She made them herself. The charm is a Tabono, an ancient African symbol that represents strength and perseverance. At least, that’s what she said.”

  Emotions I don’t want clog the back of my throat. There’s no way Levi could know that those two traits matter more to me than almost anything else. I hold the charm between my fingers. The simple metal is shaped like a four-petal flower, the kind I used to doodle in my notebooks at school.

  Because I’m well aware of what the Tabono symbol means.

  “Let’s put it on you.” Levi kneels down and gently slips the anklet over my foot. The nylon is stretchy so he’s able to adjust the tightness by pulling on the two short strings that meet where the knot is. “Perfect,” he says, his fingertips lightly grazing my skin once he’s done.

  He’s mapped my entire body with his hands and mouth, but something about this moment seems more intimate than the others before it.

  All of a sudden, it’s difficult to remain in the same room as him. I love this gift. More than I’ve loved any others. I dig my fingers into the comforter so I don’t flee. Levi deserves more from me than that.

  “What do you think?” he asks, sitting beside me.

  I nod. “I like it. Thank you.” I’m never going to take it off.

  “You’re welcome. You okay? I’m thinking my timing could have been better here.”

  “Your timing does kind of suck.”

  “Because you want to make out with me now?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly why.” I get to my feet, grateful for his sense of humor at the perfect time. “And I do need to go.”

  Levi stands. “I’ll see you on the aisle. Five o’clock, right?”

  “Right.” I put my hands on his shoulders, then stretch up on my tiptoes to kiss one eyelid, then the other, followed by light kisses to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. It’s the most tender I’ve been with him, and long overdue. I might be planning to break things off with him tomorrow, but I’ve cherished our time together, too.

  Soft caramel eyes look down at me. “What was that for?”

  “Being really good to me.” I quickly grab my bag. “I’ll see you later. Don’t be late!” I add over my shoulder. I’m out the bedroom door and in my car a minute later.

  It’s happy chaos when I get to my aunt’s house. The wedding coordinator is directing the florist, caterers, and rental company people with a small bullhorn. Yes, a bullhorn. The house is really big, as is the backyard. I hurry upstairs to Colleen’s room.

  “Hi!” Colleen waves to me from across her old bedroom, transformed into a bridal suite for today. She’s sitting in a chair wearing a short satin robe, eating an apple with her feet propped up. Her wedding dress is hanging beside her.

  “Happy wedding day,” I say. (In case you were wondering, I’m five minutes ahead of my assigned arrival time.)

  “Harper,” my mom says with delight, sweeping me into the room to join the party. There’s a table set up with food, champagne, and bottled water. Bridesmaids’ dress bags hang on a portable garment rack with our names written on the outside. Fresh flowers are everywhere.

  I greet my aunt and Colleen’s maid of honor. Within minutes, Colleen’s other bridesmaids arrive. There’s a ton of excitement in the air, and for the rest of the afternoon we eat, talk, laugh, take pictures, and get prepped for the wedding.

  Once my hair and makeup are done, I slip into my dress. Standing in front of the full-length mirror to look at myself, my first thought is, I wonder what Levi will think.

  “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  She hands me my shoes. I lift the hem of the strapless, emerald green dress, and with the attention on my feet now, my mom notices the anklet Levi gave me. “What’s that?” she asks.

  “An anklet.”

  “I know that. I’ve never seen you wear it before.”

  I slide my foot into the strappy heel dyed to match the color of the dress. “It’s new.” I’m not
being a very nice daughter. I know this. But my mom will make a really big deal out of it, and I don’t want to encourage her to be any more interested than she already is.

  Mom, the queen of McKnowing Everything, crosses her arms over her very pretty pale-yellow dress and commands me without saying a word to spill the whole truth. It’s her superpower, goddammit.

  “Levi gave it to me.”

  “He did?” With her enthusiasm, it’s hard to tell if it’s a question or announcement. Thankfully, everyone else in the room is busy, or all eyes would be on us.

  “Yes.” I go on to tell her about the charm and what it means.

  She pats the corner of her eye. “Follow me, please.”

  “Mom.” I follow her into the hallway where she wraps me in a hug. “Mom, please don’t make this a big deal.”

  “I’m not. But I have a question for you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Have you told him about Joe?”

  I let out a breath. “Yes.”

  She brushes a tendril of hair off my neck. “I’m glad. That’s a big step for you.”

  “Please don’t get your hopes up here.”

  “Too late. But they’re not up for the reasons you think.”

  I’ve no idea what to make of my mother right now. She’s acting more confusing than normal.

  “Now really isn’t the time to talk about it,” she says, “but for reasons I’ll share with you later, I’ve been seeing a therapist.”

  “Is everything all right?” My legs shake. My mom isn’t big on delving too deep into feelings, so I’m afraid something is wrong.

  “Yes. Everything is fine.” She squeezes my wrist. “What I quickly want to say to you is I’m optimistic about you not settling for things the way they are. I hate that you’ve let the past hold you hostage, and letting Levi in tells me maybe you’re ready to let go.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I think it is. And I hope you realize the person holding you back is yourself. Not Joe. First loves are hard to get over, and he will always hold a special place in your heart, but clinging to him isn’t living your life.”

  I grip the iron banister, rocking back on my heels. “I’m not clinging to him. He’s dead.” My words are cold, clipped, like a slap to the face, and my mom flinches. “Sorry,” I say more softly.

  “You have no reason to be sorry.” Several beats of silence pass. I really don’t want to talk about this, but I can tell my mom wants to say more. “It’s not that you can’t love again. It’s that you’ve chosen not to.” She puts her arm around my shoulders. “You’re still young, and still figuring out who you are, and I’m sorry if I push a little too hard on the relationship front.”

  “A little?”

  “Or a lot. But it’s because I believe in you. You have more love in your heart than anyone else I know, and it would be a shame not to give it to someone who wants to love you back.”

  The whispers in the back of my mind telling me I don’t need anyone grow louder. My mom is right. This is my choice. Because it would kill me to lose someone I loved again. “Can we finish this conversation another time?”

  “I hope we do.”

  I put my happy face in place when we walk back into the room. Watching my mom with my aunt and cousin, I think it’s the high of today and the love in the air that prompted her openness. Maybe it’s the passage of time, too. I craved her perspective when I was sixteen, but she didn’t—or couldn’t—share it with me back then.

  She smiles at me from across the room. I smile back. When we separate for the ceremony, she tells me she loves me.

  As I walk down the aisle on the arm of a groomsman, my gaze immediately finds Levi’s. His eyes, already on me, tell me he very much likes what he sees. For the entire service, I feel his gaze, and it makes me lightheaded. Smiley.

  A little while after the ceremony, his strong arms firmly envelop me from behind, and a feeling of trust and utter protection seeps into my bones. “Hi, beautiful,” he says. He nuzzles my neck and nibbles on my ear. “You look unbelievable.”

  My head falls back on his shoulder. “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself.”

  His lips graze my jaw, then the corner of my mouth, then I’m turning in his arms and we’re kissing, right there for anyone to see.

  And I don’t care.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Levi

  If the douchebag moves his hands any lower on Harper’s back, I’m going to lose my shit and march onto the dance floor to physically remove them from her body. This is fucking torture, watching her dance with him. Screw first dances and bridal party requirements.

  “Here,” a guy says, thrusting a bottle of beer in front of me.

  I take the drink and note the giver. It’s Harper’s brother, Carson. “Thanks.”

  “You looked like you needed one.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Yeah, but don’t sweat it. We’ve all been there.”

  “Wanting to break a guy’s nose?”

  Carson laughs. “More than once, my friend. More than once.”

  I down a large gulp of the ale. We’re standing in the backyard under a large umbrella. There are umbrellas all over, blocking most of the sun, but spaced to allow for some beams to filter through, too. The dance floor is transparent and spans the swimming pool. A bar, cocktail tables, and flower arrangements fill the rest of the area. Food servers weave through the guests. In another part of the yard I didn’t even realize existed, dinner will be served.

  The song ends, thank fuck, but rather than come to me like I hope, Harper stays put to dance with the other bridesmaids and her cousin. The song is “P.Y.T.” by Michael Jackson.

  Her eyes briefly catch mine when she glances over her shoulder. One little look and my pulse picks up. Good to know she’s as aware of me as I am of her.

  “Funny how you and my sister met up again,” Carson says. “I vaguely remember being pissed at you because she wanted to play with you instead of me.”

  “Really?” Carson is a couple of years older than Harper, and yeah, I recall him not liking me very much.

  “Yeah. She also told me in that bossy tone of hers she was going to marry you.”

  “Who’s being bossy?” Harper’s dad asks. He’s got a glass filled with amber liquid on the rocks in his hand. His free hand, he extends to me. “Nice to see you again, Levi.”

  We shake. “You, too.”

  “Harper can be bossy,” Carson says.

  “When you grow up with two older brothers who let you get away with everything, that’s what happens.”

  Carson shrugs. My attention drifts over to the dance floor. Harper is shaking her hips and swinging her arms, and if her father weren’t standing next to me, my dick would have a strong reaction to her skills.

  “Harper mentioned you’re a cameraman,” William says.

  “Yes.”

  “Did she tell you about the job I want her for?” He takes a sip of his drink, like he casually tosses out that question all the time, but I get the feeling he doesn’t.

  “No. I thought she wanted the ambassador job with MASF.”

  A twenty-something girl bounces up to Carson, says they need to boogie, and tugs him toward the dance floor. He doesn’t look too pleased by the invitation, but stumbles along behind her anyway.

  “She does,” William says. “But I always pictured all three of my children working for me. I admire her philanthropic aspirations, but they’re a hobby, not a job.”

  “What is it you do?” I think it’s something to do with the media.

  He explains he owns numerous companies around the world involved in mass media enterprises. He also invests in films, and he wants Harper to work on an upcoming film as a swim consultant. Normally, I’m all about talking movies, but I don’t want to get in the middle of anything between Harper and her dad. Thankfully, I’m saved from further discussion when my phone rings. It’s not often I get an actual call, so I quickly check it
.

  “Sorry, but I need to answer this.” I reach over to put my beer down on the closest cocktail table. William nods then turns his attention to another guest.

  “Hello?” I say to Elliot, pressing my cell to my ear and walking toward a quieter area of the backyard. I press a finger to my other ear so I can hear better.

  “Hey, where are you?” Elliot asks. We’ve seen each other for all of ten minutes over the past week, what with our busy work schedules.

  “I’m at a wedding.”

  “You are? Whose is it?”

  “Harper’s cousin.” I hadn’t mentioned it. And I haven’t mentioned Harper to him, either. Technically, I won the bet, but I forgot about our stupid wager a while ago and plan to give him the money. I don’t want what I did with Harper tied to my competition with him. “Aren’t you in Chicago? Is everything okay?”

  “I quit.”

  “Your job?” I knew it stressed him out, but I thought he liked it.

  “Yeah. They piled one too many ridiculous demands on me, and I walked out of a meeting and caught the first flight home.”

  I lean against a giant tree on the periphery of the reception. I’ve still got Harper in my sights, but barely.

  “I was fucking tired of all the bullshit,” he adds. “I’ve busted my ass for the past two years, and I’m done.”

  “I’m sorry, man.”

  “I need to get shitfaced.”

  And he needs a friend to do it with. Since Mateo is out of town, that leaves me. “Want to crash a wedding?” By the looks of it, there’s enough alcohol here for three weddings, and this way I don’t have to ditch Harper.

  “Brilliant idea. I can drink and hook up with someone.” I hear some rustling, like he’s changing his clothes. “Speaking of hooking up. Where do we stand on our bet? Did you sleep with Harper again?”

  Right on cue, the woman in question comes into clearer view. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of her. “Yeah, but not because of the—”

  “Well, shit. I owe you a Ben, then.”

  “Hey,” Harper says floating over to me. Her strapless green dress brushes the ground, and the way she moves gives the illusion she’s drifting. She is incredibly beautiful, graceful, and by the look on her face, curious about what I’m doing over here and who I’m talking to.