Page 92 of Lock 'em Down

I arch an eyebrow. “Except you did. You dropped me so quickly and it fucked with my head in ways you’ll never understand.” I take a cleansing breath. “I never had sex before you, Levi.”

His eyes widen and shock coats his expression.

“I never tried drugs before you either,” I continue.

He winces, looking ashamed.

“I never took naked photos or tried so fucking hard to get someone, a man, to want me. To like me. To see me. And the worst part is, it wasn’t because you were a rock god.” I chuckle. “I mean, sure that was appealing at first. But the more time we spent together, the more I got glimpses of you as a person. Your outlook. Your music. Your passion. I liked that you had these deep friendships with your bandmates. I loved watching you perform and seeing the crowd accept you. I thought it was brave. I mean, how vulnerable to put yourself out there in the ways you did. And I thought you saw me too. But you didn’t; not once. And when you nearly overdosed and I got dragged out of a hotel room, half incoherent and practically naked, I hit a type of rock bottom I didn’t know existed. I lost the ability to trust my instincts. Fuck, I lost the ability to trust men in a way that counts. In a way that’s not surface level. And instead of being fucking smart, I got scared. I made my world smaller. I let my mom take over managing parts of it. The weeks I spent with you, and the heartache that followed, made me lonely yet desperate to connect. And that’s not all on you—I know that. It’s on me. But I couldn’t reconcile my complicated feelings for you and what a healthy relationship is supposed to be. And then, I met a man in Vegas and asked him to marry me.” I smile at the thought of Leif. “And he is lightyears out of my reach. I don’t deserve him and I’m fucking terrified I’ll break him. Let him down. Hurt him. But he sees me, Levi. He sees me and loves me anyway and I don’t know what the fuck to do with that.” I toss a hand in his direction. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

“Because you have no one else to tell,” he murmurs.

I narrow my eyes at him.

He shifts in his chair, studying me. “And you know I won’t judge you. You can’t name a mistake I haven’t already made. It’s the guy who hit me, right? That’s your man?”

I nod, rolling my lips together.

“I deserved the punch,” Levi remarks. “What I said to you—it came out wrong. But I deserved the hit anyway.”

I nod. He really did.

“And you deserve a man like that, Cami Coleman. You are deserving of a big love and a partner who really, truly sees you. I am, too. Just because we fuck up doesn’t mean we can’t get better. It doesn’t rule us out of ever having happiness or trust or commitment. I had no fucking clue that I was your first and I’ll carry that with me. I’m sorry. Genuinely fucking sorry that I played any role in you feeling like you can’t trust the woman you are.” He looks at me, his eyes tracking over the planes of my face. His sincerity oozes from his pores and I know he means it. He really wants to make amends.

His words knock a weight off my shoulders. I didn’t think hearing them would matter as much as they do. “Thank you,” I say.

Levi nods. Drags a hand through his hair, making it stand up in random directions. “But you do trust yourself, Cami.”

I lift an eyebrow.

He smirks. “On some level, you do. Or you wouldn’t have chosen your husband as your random proposal. There’s a reason you picked him. And there’s a reason you haven’t thrown in the towel yet. Hell, you’re still married to the guy.”

Tears prick my eyes as I think of Leif waking up alone, abandoned, in Honey Harbor after the night we shared. I blink them back.

“What if I’m not good enough for him?” I whisper.

“If you weren’t, that question would never enter your mind,” Levi replies.

Surprise rocks into me at his observation.

“If you weren’t the right woman for him, you wouldn’t care about hurting him. You wouldn’t overthink being enough. You’d just take. That’s not you, Cami. And anyone who really, truly sees you, sees that.” Levi takes a sip of his coffee and raises his eyebrows, as if daring me to challenge his point.

I don’t. Because what he said resonates.

I do care about Leif. Fuck, I love him.

And the only way to be worthy enough is to be worthy enough.

Not leave him behind in Honey Harbor and hide out in Knoxville.

It’s to show him. It’s to commit. It’s to fully step into the role of being his partner, his teammate, his wife.

“Anything else you want to say?” Levi asks.

“I liked your last album,” I admit.

Levi laughs. It’s uninhibited and honest. It makes me smile.

He taps the tabletop with his palm. “The next time you and your husband roll through Boston, let me know. We’ll connect.”

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