Pretty Pink Ribbons (16 page)

“That’s a trick question, dude. I’m a woman, I should know. Just tell her it looks hot.” Levi and I both laugh at Tatum, who just shrugs her shoulder and continues restocking the bar.

Levi leans in close so only I can hear. “You look sexy.” He pulls back all too soon when Mason walks into the room. He squeezes in between Levi and me, and I fight the urge to kick him in the shin.

Sitting down, he pops one of my French fries into his mouth. “What are you still doing here? You’re off for the dinner shift.”

I pull my plate from his grabby hands. “I’m just getting to know Tatum.”

“And she’s making her bucket list.” Leaning across the bar, I throw a French fry at Tatum, who is squatting down on the floor.

“Bucket list?” Mason asks.

“Yeah. You know, a list of things you want to do before you die,” I answer mirthlessly.

“Join the mile-high club. That’s what I want to do.” Mason tosses another fry into his mouth and smiles smugly. “And have sex in one of Levi’s cages.”

Tatum’s head pops up over the bar and she’s smiling wickedly. “That’s a great one, Mase. I want to do that. Put that on your list, Laney.”

“No,” Levi snaps. “If anyone has sex in one of my cages, it’s going to be me.” All of our heads turn toward Levi. I can tell by the look on his face that he didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it’s too late . . . it’s out there, and now all I can think about is Levi tying my wrists to the bars of the cage and having his naughty way with me. Tatum snaps her fingers, catching my attention, and when I look at her, she motions for me to close my mouth and wipe the drool off my face. Then she winks and dips back behind the bar.

Mason’s hand pauses mid-air, hovering above my plate, and slowly he turns to Levi. “You mean, you haven’t already done that?” Mason asks incredulously.

“Fuck you,” Levi grumbles. Reaching past Mason, he grabs my notepad.

“Hey!” I try to snatch it back, but he’s too quick and too tall, so I decide to just sit back and let him read it. I’m not ashamed of anything on my list anyway. His eyes roam across the page and when he gets to what must be the bottom, he looks up at me.

“Got any plans tonight?” I shake my head. “Meet me back here at eight then.” My eyes are locked on Levi’s, and the excitement bubbling up in my throat is making it hard to speak.

“What are we going to do?” I manage, swallowing past the gigantic lump in my throat. Levi holds out my list and I take it from him, wondering what the heck he’s up to.

“We’re going to hang out.” My eyes drift to Mason and then to Tatum, who is now standing and grinning at me like an idiot, and then back to Levi again. “Okay?” he confirms.

“It’s a date,” Mason quips, looking between Levi and me. “You two are going on a date.”

“It’s not a date,” Levi huffs, looking away sheepishly, effectively knocking my anticipation and excitement down a couple of notches.

“Whatever you say, bro.” Mason claps Levi on the shoulder and grabs my now-empty plate. “Whatever you say.”

“IT’S A DATE,” MIA squeals, clapping her hands together.

“It’s not a date,” Benny grunts, rolling his eyes before grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator. “If the man said it’s not a date, then it’s not a date. Quit getting her hopes up.”

“He’s right, Mia. It’s not a date,” I agree.

Benny walks past me and stops long enough to kiss my forehead. “His loss,” he whispers, walking into the living room.

“Please tell me you’re trying to snag him.” My words are directed at Mia, but my eyes are following the larger-than-life man walking through my house.

“No,” she shakes her head, waving me off. “We’re just friends. He made it perfectly clear that I’m not his type, and well, I’m not one to beg so . . .” She trails off and I know Mia well enough to know that it’s more than likely bothering the hell out of her. She doesn’t get shot down . . . ever.

“Wh—”

“So,” she cuts me off, discontinuing any further discussion about Benny. “My dad wants me to come home.” I shouldn’t be surprised; I knew this was coming. I knew she couldn’t stay here with me forever, although a small part of me had been hoping she would.

“Daddy can’t run the place without you?”

“Riiiiight,” she drags out with a dramatic roll of her eyes. “That place probably runs better when I’m not there. Hell, I’m not even sure what it is that I actually do other than fetch his coffee.”

“Stop it.” I push away from the table and she follows suit. “You run his life. He would fall apart if you weren’t there.”

“One of these days, Lane,” she sighs, following me down the hall toward the bedroom. “One of these days I’ll get to do what I want to do.”

“Do what you want to do now. Don’t wait, Mia. Who cares what your dad says? Do what makes you happy.”

She plops down on my bed and throws an arm over her forehead. “You’re right,” she relents. “I know you’re right, but it’s just scary. Daddy said he’d cut me off and then I’ll have nothing.”

“No, then you’ll have your freedom. Remember that fancy little teaching degree you worked really hard on?” She nods. “You can put it to use. Pay your own way through life.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

Grabbing onto her arm, I pull her up and into my arms, hugging her tight. “It is easy,” I whisper. “You just have to want it badly enough.”

“As hot as this is,” Benny says as he saunters into the bedroom, “and it is hot—please feel free to rub all over each other any time—Laney has to get going or she’s going to be late.”

Mia and I bust up laughing. Then she pulls away, runs a hand over my hair, grips my chin and turns my face toward her, inspecting my makeup. Smacking my butt, she says, “You look perfect! Let’s get you to your man.”

I glance at my watch. “Shoot.” I have ten minutes and I hate being late. “Benny’s right, I have to go.” Scurrying down the hall, I slide to a stop in the living room and slip on my Tom’s. I grab my purse and then a minute later, I’m out of the house.

The drive to Flame is short and the parking lot is already filling up for the dinner rush. I pull around back, throw Ivy into park and take one last look at my makeup before making my way into the restaurant. Riley waves at me from behind the bar and I scan the room for Levi. “Hey, Riley. Have you seen Levi?” Just then, my phone vibrates. I pull it out of my pocket to find a text from Tatum.

Tatum: Levi says to meet him over here at Blue.

Me: K. Headed over now.

“I’m guessing by the smile on your face that you just found him.”

“Actually, it was Tatum, but he’s over at Blue. Have a good night.”

“You too,” she hollers after me.

I turn my back on her and weave my way through the restaurant and over to Blue. It’s too early for the bar to be packed—the drinking crowd hasn’t really shown up yet—but there are a few patrons scattered around, eating appetizers. My eyes immediately land on Levi. He’s sitting at the bar, back to me, talking animatedly with Tatum. Wearing a black Henley, the arms bunched up around his elbows, faded jeans and Chuck T’s, he looks absolutely amazing. My heart stutters at the thought of getting to spend the evening with him. In fact, this will be the first time we’ve been truly alone since I moved home.

Tatum must say something funny because Levi tosses his head back. His deep, throaty laugh floats through the room, eliciting a shiver through my entire body.
That sound.
I’ve missed that sound. An excited flutter tickles my belly and my breathing slows as a memory takes over.

“Let’s spoon.” Snuggling up to Levi, I tuck my head into his neck and wait for him to wrap his arm around me. I love that he has his own apartment. I don’t stay over too often, because I hate leaving Luke at home alone with Dad, but every once in a while I let myself indulge. Levi’s eyes are trained on the TV and I nudge him in the side. “Spoon. Now.”

“How about we knife,” he says without looking at me.
What?

“Knife?” I clarify, pushing up onto my elbow so I’m looking down at him.

He glances at me and smiles, and if I wasn’t currently annoyed at him for suggesting we ‘knife,’ then I might smile back. “Yeah, knife.” He straightens his body, relaxing his arms at his sides. “Look, we’re already doing it. No need to even move.”

“Knife,” I repeat, exaggerating the word with a slow nod of my head.

“Great, huh? Plus, you’re a hotbox.”

“I’m a hotbox,” I mutter, looking at the TV.
Saturday Night Live
is on, but I don’t register what’s being said because I’m pissed that my boyfriend wants to ‘knife.’ How the heck do you deny someone who wants to spoon? Most of the time, it leads to sexy times anyway!

Flinging the covers off, I scramble out of bed and hightail it for the bathroom. Unfortunately for me, Levi’s legs are a mile long and he snags my elbow before I’m able to get too far.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He pulls me against him, my back to his chest, and wraps an arm around my stomach. His fingers play with the hem of my underwear as he nuzzles his face into the side of my neck.

“I’m a hotbox, remember?” I push on his arm and try to pull away, but he’s too strong. He chuckles at my pathetic attempt to struggle and tightens his grip on me. I huff out a heavy breath and let my legs and arms go limp, refusing to hold him back.

“I was kidding, baby. Lighten up, it was a joke.”

“Well, I hope you still think it’s a joke when you’re sleeping in this big ol’ bed all by yourself tonight.” I’m trying really hard to stand my ground and keep my voice firm and steady, but his fingers have somehow managed to make their way up the planes of my stomach and are currently stroking the underside of my breast.
Christ, his hands are heaven
. He places a gentle kiss at the base of my neck and nips lightly with his teeth. A low moan starts deep in my throat, but I push it back down, insistent on standing my ground.

“Come on . . .” He turns me in his arms and moves in to kiss me, but I turn my head and his lips land on my cheek. I would have much preferred his pouty lips on mine, but the boy needs to be taught a lesson, and that lesson is that when Laney wants to cuddle, you cuddle! He chuckles again, this time sliding his hand down my back and under my panties. He squeezes my ass, his fingers digging into my flesh, and my eyes nearly roll back into my head. “Let’s spoon.”

My hand—on its own accord, because I sure as hell didn’t authorize it—slides up his arm, over his shoulder and cups the back of his neck.
Damn it. NO
.

“Go fork yourself, Levi,” I snap, making one last attempt at pushing him away. He throws his head back and laughs—a full belly laugh—and that sound alone single-handedly melts every inch of my soul. I love his laugh, and this particular laugh is saved only for me. It’s deep and throaty, and it makes my toes tingle. All of my resolve fades away and I start laughing with him as I wind my arms around his neck. Like an old dance that we’ve done a million times, he lifts and places me in the center of the bed. My eyes linger on his hands, and I watch as he rips off his shirt, pushes his pants and boxers down his thighs, and slowly crawls his way—

“EARTH TO LANEY!”

I shake my head and blink my eyes several times to regain focus. When I do, I find Levi and Tatum at the bar staring at me. Tatum is smiling—apparently, all the girl can do is smile—and Levi is watching me with such intensity that I would almost swear he knew exactly what I’d been thinking about.

With languid movements, I make my way across the bar, never taking my eyes off of Levi. He has a magnetic pull on me that I can’t explain; it’s intense and, at times, overwhelming, but I wouldn’t give it up for the world.

“Let me have your phone.” I stick my hand out, waiting for him to hand it over. Levi narrows his eyes as he digs his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. “Next time you have a message for me, let me know yourself. Don’t have Tatum message me,” I say, making quick work of adding my contact information into his phone before handing it back.

“I didn’t have your number.”

“Well, now you do, so no more excuses.” He cocks an eyebrow, the side of his mouth ticking up in a smile. “So, where are you taking me?” That must be Tatum’s cue because she reaches under the bar and grabs a large brown paper bag that appears to be stuffed.