Page 204 of Falling in Reverse

How does she not know he’s the…

Gripping onto Levi’s forearm, I heave him forward to follow me, striding to the flight of stairs that lead upstairs and hoping the music isn’t too loud there.

When we’re close enough to where it’s the amount of relief from the bass of the current song playing, I turn to face him.

“Levi…how did I not know you were sitting on a Titan seat?”

Both his brows raise, too half in the bag to even form a glare at me asking more questions of things I didn’t know about or that reached my ears. “What do you mean? I thought we’ve had this conversation?”

Okay…we’re going to need to use simpler terms here.

“How long have you been King of South Shore?”

“Almost two years, I think.”

“And how is that not public knowledge?”

“It is.” He brings his Solo cup to his lips and takes a giant sip from it, still not answering my last two questions.

“But I didn’t know about it,” I counter.

“And you study gang politics, Bay?” He glances down, green eyes examining the amount of liquor left in his cup and, clearly, he’s not interested in this conversation.

“No, but I’m not deaf either.”

“You know how South Shore is.” He lifts his wide shoulders. “They don’t gossip. We keep our inner workings pretty tight-lipped.”

“Did you tell people not to tell me?”

He shakes his head, which surprises me. “I didn’t need to. They all assumed you knew since we’re so close. Why wouldn’t you know?”

“Because you’re an asshole.” None of the tattoos along his fingers tightly clutch his cup at my arguing.

I need to get him fucked up more often during difficult conversations. Especially before the one we have about my being Emilio Wildes’s daughter.

“But you love me, Astor. Get over it.” His green eyes slice up to mine. “Just like how I had to get over my best friend making out with my enemy.”

His words cut even though there’s no malice or irritation behind them.

He’s right, I did.

And he still doesn’t know half the story when he should. I don’t want to be like him and hold things that may hurt him.

Except easier said than done.

How do you even start that topic? How do you prepare yourself for something that may change everything?

“Chin up.” Levi cranes my head up with the crook of his finger. “We don’t look depressed in corners when you’re South Shore and you’re hangin’ with the king.”

“Mhm…” I bring my own drink to my lips. “Have you met you?”

“I see myself every day in the mirror. I’m pretty bomb.”

“No, you look pretty bomb. Big difference.”

Levi chuckles. It’s barely audible, but I’d recognize it anywhere because it’s been meager at best lately. “What’s up with you walkin’ around, tellin’ girls I’m your man?”

“You are,” I retort with a wrinkled nose. “You’re my homeboy, my home skillet, my brother from another mother.”

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