Page 8 of Breaking the Habit

She struggled to fight the smile. Levi was a breath of fresh air that she didn’t want to admit needing. Somehow, he’d managed to compliment her without making the claws come out. That alone was a feat.

“That’s quaint. But please know—this is a job for me. You need to keep your hands to yourself.” She jabbed her index finger toward him for good measure. Made her feel like she was driving the point home. “Got it?”

Levi raised his palms in submission. “Never thought otherwise.”

A pleased smile crossed his face, and he interlaced his fingers across his torso. He tapped his thumbs against his chest for a minute, and then he said, “We friends now?”

She tilted her head as she looked him up and down. Friends seemed safe. Now that her boundaries were stated and hanging in the air between them, it might be time to give him an inch.

“Almost-friends,” she clarified. “Like, I’m not going to call you on the weekends.”

“But if you have an emergency, you’d call me then?”

She pursed her lips, considering it. “Yeah, you seem like you’d be good in a pinch.”

“What about Snapchat?”

She shrugged. “I’d add you.”

“And Facebook?”

This guy was a negotiator. If he added her on Facebook, she’d probably spend half her day stalking him. Maybe shewantedto do that, now that she thought about it. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“Great.” He slapped the table just as Travis walked back in, holding three copies of the contract.

“You two behaving in here?” he asked as he distributed the contract.

“Yes, Dad.” Levi smirked, picking up his copy.

“Dude, I’m like, seven years older than you,” Travis said. “You can’t call me Dad.”

“I’ll call you what I wanna!” Levi reached out and smacked Travis’s ass. His cackle filled the room.

A laugh escaped Riley, and she hid her smile in her hand.

“I’d hit you if you didn’t need to look pretty for the cameras tomorrow,” Travis muttered, shaking his head.

“You’re gonna hit me anyway,” Levi taunted. “Don’t act like you train light, Trav.”

“That’s some truth right there.” He smiled, knocking his knuckles against the table. “Oh yeah, that reminds me. Tomorrow. You free, Riley? That’ll be one of Levi’s big practices before the match.”

She scrambled to get out her phone but couldn’t ignore the way Levi swiveled back and forth in his chair. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. But it wasn’t because she disliked the attention.

“Yeah, I’m good tomorrow.” Her work calendar was embarrassingly empty. At least now she had Levi’s dates to fill in—and the weekly paychecks that would save her ass for as long as he stayed qualified in the league. She hated to admit it, but the man was a godsend. His ego would have loved to hear it, which meant that she must never,neversay it out loud.

They laid out the rest of the dates, which Riley tapped into her phone. The agreement was that they’d schedule on a weekly basis, based on the outcome of each match. Levi and Travis both oozed confidence that he’d be competing until the very end. They spoke so seriously about it that by the end of the meeting, Riley had blocked out the next four months in her phone for intermittent practice sessions and the monthly fights.

“You don’t know the kind of boxer this guy is,” Travis said as he stood, gathering his papers. “It’s insane. I can’t wait to see what sort of pictures you get.”

“Aw, Dad,” Levi teased.

“Swear to God—” Travis started.

“He’s in his mid-thirties so we have to give him crap,” Levi said to her, as if Travis wasn’t standing a few feet away.

Travis sighed. “I’m not in my mid-thirties.”

“You’re thirty-two!” Levi accused, scooping up his contract. “You’re practically a grandpa.”

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