Текст книги "The Fall Up"

Автор книги: Aly Martinez

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

IT’D BEEN ANOTHER sleepless night for me. After some huge guy I assumed was another bodyguard drove me home, I’d sat on my porch with Sampson at my side and watched the sun rise. I was starting to feel like I’d never get a full night of sleep again. It didn’t take long for me to regret having stormed out on Levee. She had problems, and I had done the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do again after Anne died—I’d walked away. But fuck, her explosive rant had cut me deep.

That’s not completely true though.

Anne had cut me deep.

Levee had unwittingly rubbed salt in the already-gaping wound.

I needed to apologize. She didn’t deserve that shit. If I went back over there, I could probably make her understand my over-the-top reaction.

But that was the last thing I really needed.

I had absolutely no business trying to pursue something with her. We came from different worlds—and only part of that had anything to do with her being famous. Hell, that was the easy part. We were both so filled with pain. Only she was determined to escape it, while I physically ached to stop her. We’d be a fucking train wreck together.

But that woman…

It’d only been a week and we’d only spent one night together, but, God, she’d felt like the great I’d always been searching for. Who cared if she had issues I would probably always stress about?

Oh, right. Me.

But, when we were together, it was easy to forget how we’d met. It was easy to get lost in her whiskey eyes and her contagious smile.

Her lithe body and her smooth, white skin.

Her soft breasts and her tight…

Damn it.

I desperately needed someone to talk to about her. But since Levee was such a public figure it made it tricky. I couldn’t air her bullshit like she so obviously already thought I was going to do. My mom was still struggling with Anne’s death. I couldn’t bring this kind of drama up without upsetting her. She was just starting to get it back together.

I had one choice…

So, at nine a.m., I grabbed my wallet and headed out the door.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing up here?” Ryan asked when I walked into his office, closing the door behind me.

“I just hired you. I fucked up last night and I need to talk, but you can’t say a word to anyone.”

“What. Did. You. Do?” he said very slowly, pushing away from his desk and rising to his feet.

“By the way, I really wish I’d known you charged four hundred dollars an hour before I paid Jen for your time. Fucking hell, man.”

He cocked an angry eyebrow. “One, stay the fuck away from Jen. Two, we’re best friends! You didn’t have to pay for my time, asshole.”

“Yeah, I know, but I needed attorney-client privilege for what I’m about to tell you.”

“Fuck, Sam. This does not sound good.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as he perched on the edge of his desk, and then motioned for me to spill it.

“I’ve been kinda seeing Levee Williams, and last night, I slept with her,” I rushed out.

His head snapped up. “Levee Williams, the singer?”

I quickly nodded.

“No shit?” he breathed. A grin spread across his face, but just as quickly, his eyes grew wide. “Oh, Jesus, did you hurt her? Is she trying to claim you forced yourself on her?”

“What? No!” I shouted, jumping to my feet.

“Then what the fuck did you do that you suddenly need a criminal defense attorney?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to talk to you without worrying that you’re gonna run your big-ass mouth. For fuck’s sake, Ryan! The first thing you assume is that I assaulted her?”

“I didn’t think you necessarily assaulted her,” he scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging. “Maybe she didn’t like the bionic cock? You never know.”

I laughed without humor. “Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone likes that.”

“Including Levee Williams?” He smirked.

“Come on, jerkoff. Act like a professional.”

“Fine. I’ll ask that when we aren’t on your dime.” He walked back around his desk and, very businesslike, sat in his chair. ”Now, Mr. Rivers. What can I do for you today?”

I sucked in a deep breath and settled back in my chair. “I met her on the bridge about a week ago.”

He lowered his voice and mumbled a curse. “You have to stop going up there and torturing yourself.”

I waved him off. I didn’t need a lecture. I needed someone to tell me that I was insane for wanting to be with Levee. Then I needed someone to convince my body that it was insane, too, because all I really wanted to do was run back up that hill and lose myself inside her again.

“I didn’t know who she was at first. She was always wearing shades and a wig, but I could see her intentions like a beacon of light.” I cleared my throat. “She was going to jump. I know she was. She kept sticking her legs through the railing like she was testing out the wind on her skin. I couldn’t stop worrying about her, so, on the third night, I struck up a conversation with her. I’ve been meeting her up on the bridge every night since, and last night, she finally told me her name, and after dinner, we…uh…went back to her place.” I smiled and shook my head at how perfect the first half of the evening had gone. Then I groaned at the memories of how it had ended. “Anyway, I told her bodyguard that she was planning to jump, and when she found out, she exploded and kicked me out of her house. I have no fucking idea what to do, Ryan. I really want to go back over there and apologize tonight, but a woman like that is going to shred me. You remember how I was with Anne. I’d just be a sitting duck waiting for an instant replay. But I…um…like her.”

He sighed. “You can’t be with someone like that. Your personality cannot handle the crazy.”

“Come on, dude. Don’t call her crazy.”

“I just mean you need someone a little safer and more on an even keel. You know I’ve always considered you a brother. But the fact that you made me lunch and folded my clothes every day in college definitely made it easy to keep you around.”

I glared up at him, unimpressed.

“You’re a caretaker, Sam. It’s what you do. You did it for your mom when your dad died. You did it for me when…” He paused and swayed his head in consideration, “Well, you still do it for me. You did it for Anne. You do it for Morgan. And now, you’re gonna try to do it for Levee freaking Williams. You did the right thing by letting someone know what was up, but I really think she’ll be okay without you. If you want to have under-the-covers fun with her for a while, by all means, go for it. But, since I know your vagina doesn’t work like that, you need to stop this now. What you really need is for someone to take care of you—not the other way around.”

He was right.

I’d spent years of my life taking care of my father. Then even more years repairing the damage he’d caused our family when he’d ultimately hung himself in his workshop. Most recently, I’d spent my life trying to prevent Anne from sharing his same fate—a task I’d monumentally failed at.

Yeah. I couldn’t do that with Levee.

Not again.

Clearing my throat, I pushed to my feet. “You’re right.”

He was so fucking wrong, and I knew it even as the agreement tumbled from my lips.

She was right.

We were right.

I was just too afraid to start the cycle of pain all over again.

So, like a coward, I repeated a lie. “You are absolutely right.”

“Good.” He stood up too and buttoned his suit coat in a very professional manner. “Are we done here?”

I sighed and nodded, preparing to leave, but Ryan stopped me first.

“You want to grab some coffee? Off the clock, of course.” He winked and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah. I could seriously go for a smoke and some caffeine,” I replied, deflated.

“Awesome. Now, spill it. Was she a freak in the sack? I can see her being kinky. And don’t even try to avoid answering. You can’t fuck the world’s biggest pop star and keep this shit from your best friend.”

I cleared my throat. “My best friend doesn’t know I had sex with Levee. Just my attorney. And since you’re off the clock…” I trailed off, tossing him a shrug.

“You are worthless.” He pouted, and I made a mental note not to let Ryan ply me with alcohol any time soon.

“That’s not what Jen said,” I joked, dodging the punch that I knew would be heading toward my shoulder.

Ryan talked the whole way to the coffee shop, but I didn’t have anything left to say. How was I supposed to just forget about her? Or stop worrying about her? Or stop myself from getting in my car and heading up to her house? God, I hoped Devon was going to truly get her the help she needed and stop taking her to that fucking bridge every night.

There was only one way to be certain about that though.

For seven days, I fought the urge and somehow managed to stay away from her. Her house was only fifteen minutes from mine, and my palms itched to touch her again.

For as much as I wanted to see her, it wasn’t like Levee was reaching out to me, either. She had my cell number from the night I’d given it to her at the bridge, but I didn’t know if she’d kept it. She knew where I worked though. I’d given the receptionist at rePURPOSEd full permission to give my cell number to anyone who called asking for it.

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.

“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 last 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.

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 thoughts, 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.

“Don’t laugh at me,” she sniffled, squeezing me tighter.

Of course, that only made me laugh harder. Her head tipped back, and a scowl covered her gorgeous, tear-stained face.

Tucking stray curls behind her ears, I smiled down at her. “I’ve missed the view.”

Her gaze jumped away. “I’m not allowed to go to the bridge anymore.”

Using her chin, I tipped her head back. “Good,” I breathed, kissing her forehead.

“You haven’t been going up there either?”

“I’ve been there every night, but that’s not the view I’ve been missing.”

Her cheeks pinked, and her eyes smiled.

Her mouth didn’t.

Because it was suddenly on mine.

Her tongue invaded my mouth as mango overwhelmed my senses. Levee. My whole body slacked as I slid a hand down to her ass.

“Uhhh…” Meg’s voice stole my attention and reminded me that we weren’t alone the way I so fiercely wanted to be.

Levee giggled and tucked her face into my neck.

“Hey!” I greeted Meg awkwardly.

“Nice to see you too, Sam.” She rolled her eyes then flashed them to Levee’s back in a silent question.

I shrugged. “Well, it’s good to know your loud-mouth brother at least takes attorney-client privilege seriously.”

“Shut. Up,” she whispered. “Ryan knew about this and didn’t tell me!” Her face morphed from humor to anger.

“Yep.” I rubbed it in just to be sure Ryan thoroughly got his ass handed to him later.

“Mom,” Morgan choked.

We all looked down at her, including Levee, who spun in my arms. Morgan’s face was pale as tears welled in her bright-blue eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Meg asked, settling on the bed next to her.

“Does this mean that Levee is going to be my aunt?” A trail of tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Well…” Meg stalled then leveled me with an annoyed frown. “Sam? Levee? You got an answer here?”

Levee blew out a sigh of relief. “Maybe.”

Panic followed by a tinge of elation filled my chest as I swung an incredulous glare in her direction.

She shrugged then went back to talking to Morgan. “But maybe not. You mind if I step outside with Sam and talk about that?”

Morgan jumped to her knees and folded her hands in a prayer. “Oh, please say yes, Levee. Please. If you’re my aunt, you get to come to dinner at Nana’s every Sunday. And Christmas. Oh my God! Christmas is so fun. Sam always shows up smelling like smoke, but I promise I’ll put a toothbrush in his stocking in case you want to kiss him some more.”

Levee bit her lips to stifle a laugh.

“Uncle Sam, did you bring a ring? You need a ring if you’re going to marry her.”

I threw my hands up in defense and slowly backed toward the door. “I have no idea what you are talking about right now.”

Meg doubled over in laughter as Morgan’s expression turned murderous. “Girls need a ring! Come on, Sam. My friends would die if Levee was my aunt. Don’t mess this up for me.”

Levee barked a laugh. “Yeah, Sam. Don’t mess this up for her.” She flipped her hand up for a high five, which Morgan enthusiastically returned.

“Don’t encourage her,” I whisper-yelled at Levee, but the huge grin I was hopeless to hide gave me away.

After offering Morgan a quick hug, Levee headed toward the door, bumping my shoulder as she passed. “Come on, Sam. We need to talk about this ring.” Just as she got to the door, she shouted, “See ya later, Morgan!”

“See you at dinner on Sunday!” Morgan casually called after her.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the exchange, and as the door clicked behind her, I heard Levee laugh as well.

I quickly kissed Morgan on the top of her head then pulled Meg into a hug. “Thanks for the text.”

“You have so much explaining to do,” she bit out but immediately started shooing me out of the room.

I wandered into the hallway, where I found Levee whispering with Devon.

“Sup, big man.” I clapped his meaty shoulder, looping the other arm around Levee’s waist.

He glowered at me, but his words were for Levee. “We need to go. Time’s up.”

She shyly peeked up at me. “You want to maybe…come back to my place for a little bit so we can…talk.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” I dug my car keys out of my pocket, and Levee’s whole face lit up.

“I’m riding back with Sam!” she announced, bouncing on her toes.

“No,” Devon snapped.

“Yes.”

“No,” he replied firmly.