I pull my hand away to smother the chicken in ranch sauce and cheese. “Thank you for that. And so am I. When I first met you, I thought maybe Blaze had mentioned something to you about what we do.”
He laughs. “Blaze hasn’t said a word to me in three years.”
I finish the last layer then put the pan in the oven. “I’m sorry.”
Levi clenches his jaw. The pain that’s in Blaze’s eyes when he talks about his brother is also right here in Levi’s. What happened with these two? “Don’t be. It’s between us. We’ll work it out one day.”
Something in my gut tells me it won’t be that simple.
Throughout dinner, Levi entertains the boys with stories about racing. He’s so animated when he talks about the thrill of the crowd and the high speed of the race. Everyone, including Brody, is hypnotized by his excitement. By the end of the meal, he invites us all to enjoy box seats at his next race. I don’t know much about the racing world, but the looks on the boys’ faces is enough to make me say yes—as long as we get permission from Kai, of course.
He tells us about how he got started racing and all the different places he’s seen. The boys listen in awe to stories about a life they think they don’t deserve, a life I want for them more than I want my next breath. I’d give anything to take their starry-eyed dreams and make them real.
Levi talks about his parents. He talks about the famous people he’s met. He does nothing but talk. And talk. And talk. I start to wonder if the guy just likes the sound of his own voice. He’s so different from Blaze, who hardly talks about himself at all. I busy myself with cleaning the kitchen while they gather in the living room after dinner. It doesn’t keep his voice from echoing in the open space. At one point, I half expected him to make us mirror YouTube videos to the TV from his cell phone so we could all watch him in action. By the time Levi says goodnight and shows himself to the door, I’m pretty sure my ears are bleeding.
Brody should have been gone hours ago, but he insisted on staying through dinner. I’m thankful for that because every time Levi looked at me from across the table and winked, my gut twisted.
He plops down on the sofa and stretches a long arm across the back. “I think now would be a good time to finish our conversation.”
I wait for the sound of the boys’ footsteps thumping as they go up the stairs to go quiet, then I sink into the cushions next to him. “Trust me, that conversation is over.” There’s no other way to explain it without reopening that wound, so I don’t even try.
He gives me a side glance. “It didn’t look over from where I was standing.”
“Well, you weren’t standing where I was.”
“No, but I am a dude, and I know what it looks like when a man is pissing on his fire hydrant.”
“You should really rethink your analogies.”
“You know what I mean. That look Blaze gave you when he walked in and saw you with Levi. That was pure possession.”
Possession.
That’s when you belong to someone.
How can I belong to someone who doesn’t even want me?
The next morning, our neighbor, Mrs. Williams, comes to the house to sit with the boys while I drive Liam to the brewery. My stomach is in knots the whole twenty-five-minute drive there. It gets worse when I pull up and see that his car isn’t here. He knows it’s my day to drop off Liam. We’ve had the same schedule for over two weeks.
He’s avoiding me.
It’s not like I’m going to strip my clothes off and beg him to fuck me. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it, but he made his choice. I’m a twenty-four-year-old woman who has dealt with a life full of rejection. Somewhere along the way I got tired of begging people to want me. I know how to straighten my ponytail and move on.
The tall guy from the other day walks over to the car. He narrows his gaze and tries to peer inside, shielding the sun with a hand over his eyes.
I roll down my window, and he leans in. I squint up at him. “Good morning. Blaze didn’t say anything about being late.”
“Morning. He went to pick up some plans. He’ll be back later.” He gets this smile on his face, this cat-that-ate-the-canary smile that is one-hundred percent cocky but kind of adorable. “But I promise the kid is in good hands.”
Okay, maybe Blaze isn’t avoiding me.
“I’m sure he is. I’m Adrienne. If you need anything, Liam knows my number.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Adrienne. I’m Hector Romero, but most people call me Hero.” He stands up and stretches his arms above his head, making his shirt rise up to just below his belly button.
Hero. I wonder how many times that nickname has gotten him laid. Probably not nearly as many as those abs have.
Liam walks around the car and gives the guy the kind of handshake that only guys seem to know how to do—the kind where you don’t actually shake hands. It’s more like you slide hands then hook fingers. This is why girls hug. Hugs are so much easier.
“Well then, it was nice to meet you, Hero. I’ll be back later to pick him up.” I nod toward Liam who started walking toward the brewery.
“Looking forward to it,” he answers with a wink and a salute, then he walks off to catch up with Liam.
Somewhere between picking up broken crayons off the floor and doing laundry, I decide to sit down and catch up on the latest episodes of Lucifer on Netflix. Zeke is sitting at the dining table, making his latest masterpiece out of modeling clay. Ryder is putting the final touches on his Lego representation of the Eiffel Tower. Jacob is upstairs reading The Hound of the Baskervilles for his summer reading program before school starts in a couple of weeks. Nate is upstairs taking advantage of Liam’s absence by not having to take turns on the PlayStation.
It’s peaceful.
I tuck my feet up under my butt and curl into the corner of the sofa. As soon as I find the remote and turn on the television, the doorbell rings. My phone is in the kitchen, so I can’t cheat and see who it is without getting up.
We get legal documents delivered here all the time thanks to the nature of our organization, so I don’t think twice about opening the door without looking through the top glass first. The moment I swing it open and see the man standing there, my heart falls to my stomach.
He smiles, revealing a top row of perfect teeth and a set of dimples, but there’s nothing charming or kind about it. His grin is sinister. It’s predatory. Tattoos crawl from the top of his neck down beneath his solid black T-shirt then down both arms and to his fingers. His dirty blond hair is tousled on top of his head but cut short in the back and on the sides, and his eyes… His eyes are the devil’s eyes, so dark brown and soulless.
There’s a pistol tucked into the front of his jeans. He makes zero effort to hide it from me or anyone. A shiver shoots down my spine, coating my entire body in an icy chill.
He cocks his head to one side and narrows his eyes to regard me. “I need to talk to Liam.”
It’s not a request. He isn’t asking permission. It’s a demand, plain and simple, one I refuse to meet.
Instinct tells me to slam the door in his face. Common sense tells me that’s a bad idea. “He’s not here.”