“I think I like it. But you shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me, Levi. You’ve already won me over, remember?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t treat you the way you deserve, either.”
“Well, thank you.” Lifting my chin, I wait for him to get the hint and give me a kiss. And because he’s a badass mind reader, he does exactly that.
When we reach the new arts center, the driver pulls up to the curb then opens the back door.
Cameras are flashing, and I squint my eyes to let them adjust to the unexpected attention.
“Damn, Levi. I didn’t know this was the red carpet,” I mutter under my breath. A soft smile spreads across Levi’s face when he hears me.
His arm wraps around my waist, practically plastering me to his side before he leans down and whispers, “With a dress like that, you look like you’d blend right in with that type of crowd.”
I take in his chiseled, freshly-shaven jaw, his slicked-back hair, his crisp suit that fits like a second skin. The whole package belongs on the front of a magazine.
“Ditto, Mr. McCoy. You look good in a suit.”
“Careful, Ms. Bannon, or I might think you’re objectifying me.”
With a light laugh, I slide my hand around him and squeeze his ass, making him yelp and flinch beside me. I love that I can still tease him. That he can still tease me. That this new…romantic aspect isn’t tainting our relationship. It’s simply the cherry on top of our friendship. A really hot and sweaty cherry that tastes better than anything I’ve ever experienced. And I wouldn’t change it for the world.
The front doors open, and we’re guided to the elevators before going up to the second floor. When we reach our destination, Levi and I are gifted with a view of the grand foyer for the Jelani Okiro Arts and Cultural Center.
“So, do you know what this place is for?” Levi asks beside me.
I shake my head.
“Dexter Truitt knew the guy.” Raising his chin, he motions to a few pictures lining the walls. They all feature an older gentleman with dark, weathered skin and a kind smile. “His name was Jelani Okiro. I don’t know a lot of the details, but apparently, he had a pretty big influence on Mr. Truitt before he died of cancer. Mr. Truitt built this art center in his memory. Montague Enterprises is funding the whole thing.”
“That’s amazing,” I breathe as I take in the various Kenyan artworks scattered throughout the giant room and the glass cases lining the back walls. “Seems like Montague Enterprises is a pretty great place to work. Have you found out whether you’ll be getting the final position or not yet?”
He shakes his head. “Not yet. Soon, though. I’ve turned in all my reports for the project I was headlining and have a presentation due Monday. We’ll see how it goes. Conner had his yesterday, which is probably why he wasn’t pressuring you to go on another date with him this weekend.” The last part is spoken with a growl, his jealousy threatening to break to the surface.
Lifting my hand, I cup his cheek. “Doesn’t matter if he had. I would’ve turned him down, remember? Besides, I was sort of busy losing my virginity to my best friend.”
With a quiet chuckle, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips. “Damn straight. Speaking of which, should we go find a quiet place to explore?”
It doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s suggesting, and I shake my head before murmuring, “You’re insatiable.”
“With you, I am. Let’s go.”
He hurries me through the crowd of people in search of an empty room we can christen when a voice stops us.
“Hello, Levi.”
I turn to see an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair and a stern look.
“Hello, Mr. Morris. It’s good to see you. Charlie, this is my boss, Greg Morris. Mr. Morris, this is Charlie, my girlfriend.”
Swoon. My heart starts beating a mile a minute when the word girlfriend slips past his lips, and when those same lips stretch into a soft smile as soon as they form the word, I’m positive I’m going to die from happiness. Or a heart attack. But it would totally be worth it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie. Thanks for all of your patience during his internship. I know the hours can be grueling.”
His acknowledgment of being a hard ass makes me smile, warming to him instantly. “He’s a big boy. He can handle it,” I tease, peeking up at Levi to find his gaze solely focused on me.
Chuckling, Greg replies, “Yes, he can. Thankfully, it won’t last much longer. We plan to make our decision by Wednesday next week. Would you mind if I steal your boyfriend away for a few minutes?”
Boyfriend. I almost squeal.
“Of course not.” Turning to Levi, I say, “I’ll be over by the glass cases. I’m going to go check out those wooden figurines. Come find me when you’re done.”
Levi brushes his lips against my cheek and murmurs, “Be right back,” before his grasp on my hip disappears, and I’m left with nothing but a crowd of strangers.
Weaving through the groups of men and women, I find a quiet corner near one of the glass cases I’d mentioned to Levi. With an inquisitive smile, I lightly touch the glass barrier with the tip of my finger. Curiously, I inspect a misshapen giraffe that must’ve been donated by one of Jelani’s students. It’s absolutely adorable.
“Hey, Charlie,” a smooth voice interrupts, making me jump.
Turning around, I see Conner a few inches behind me. “Oh. Hey.”
“I almost didn’t recognize you. You look gorgeous tonight.”
“Thanks.” The compliment doesn’t make me glow like when Levi said it. Instead, my stomach rolls with unease.
“Would you care to dance?” He motions to the dance floor bustling with couples as a low hum of music filters through the air.
Digging my teeth into my lower lip, I mutter, “I think we should talk, instead.”
Conner’s expression hardens right before my eyes, and he drops his offered hand back to his side.
“That doesn’t sound very promising,” he replies coldly.
“I’m sorry, Conner.”
Raising his hand, he cuts me off and lowers his voice. “I know what you’re going to say, but can we do this in private, by chance?”
“Oh. Umm…sure.” I look around to see a few sets of eyes watching us, and the guilt hits me all over again. He’s right. I should at least have the decency to break it off in private.
As we make our way through the crowd in search of a quiet place to chat, I feel the heat of his palm touch my bare back. Flinching in response, I glance over my shoulder. When our eyes connect, his jaw tightens before the heat from his palm disappears.
I’m so sorry, Conner.
“This way,” he mutters, pointing to a closed door.
When I open it, I see a Liza Minnelli statue and an Elvis painting hanging on the wall, along with a grand piano and other musical equipment scattered throughout the empty room.
The door closes with a quiet click behind me.
“So, is this where you break up with me?” Conner’s voice is low. There’s an underlying sadness laced with sarcasm that nearly breaks me.