Page 54 of Second to None

“I’d love a bite,” I told her. “Haven’t had a home-cooked meal in forever.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” she cooed. When I glanced at Levi—always glancing at Levi—he mouthed “Suck up” even as his lips curled into a grin.

We ended up on the terrace, a plate of leftover pasta in front of me, the others picking at a platter of cheese that might have been curated by Italian gods. The sun was sinking fast now, painting the horizon in streaks of amber and rose. From here, the hills seemed to tumble straight into the sea. Geoff and Cecily shared a bottle of red wine, while opposite me, Levi poured something yellow and fizzy into his own wine glass, adding ice and a slice of orange.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“Crodino,” he said. “Kind of a bitter aperitif. Non-alcoholic.”

“Red wine for you, Cass?” Geoff offered with a tilt of his chin at the bottle.

I shook my head. “Nah, I’ll join Levi if there’s more of that crodino stuff.”

“You can drink, you know? It really doesn’t bother me.” Levi’s tone was light, but I got the underlying message—no need to walk on eggshells.

I shrugged. “It’s fine, honestly. Never been that big a drinker, remember?”

It was true. Yeah, I’d joined the others when we had beers on the bus, or sometimes a bottle of vodka shared after a concert, until Levi and Ellis had started upping the quantity and the rest of us tried to slow them down. But booze had never been my addiction. Applause, on the other hand, a crowd roaring with approval…

“True,” Levi said softly, something gentle in the way he studied me. Then he looked away, and we let quiet settle. Just the slight rustle of the evening breeze in the bushes, the sea too far below to register as more than the idea of sound.

There were things I should say.

I gave it a couple of minutes before I set down my fork, clearing my throat as I looked from Geoff to Cecily. “I, uh. I wanted to say I’m really sorry about Jessica.” My voice had dropped to something barely above the sway of leaves and the faint lapping of water against the edge of the pool. I didn’t want to trample all over their grief, but I couldn’t just… say nothing. “I didn’t know, or I would have…” Donewhat, exactly? Sent flowers, written a sad song? Nothing that would have made a difference. “Jess was an amazing person. I’m just really, really sorry.”

Geoff’s jaw tightened a fraction as Cecily’s eyes went moist, only just noticeable in the fading light. Levi inhaled audibly, his focus drifting to the horizon.

“Thank you,” Cecily said after a moment, reaching for Geoff’s hand. He squeezed back. “It was a tough time for all of us. We still miss her every day, but life goes on. It has to.”

“She made me promise, you know.” Levi paused, his words wrapped in shadows. “Before she went into surgery. She made me promise that I’d take care of Emmy, and that we’d keep moving—for Emmy’s sake, but for our own, too. Told her it was silly because she’d make it through, and she’d get better.”

He fell abruptly silent, and I pressed my lips together against the devastating truth that no, she hadn’t. Under the table, I caught one of Levi’s feet between both of mine, the sky a deep cobalt by now, night pressing in.

“She didn’t wake up again,” he finished in a cracked whisper.

Oh, Jesus.

I scrunched my nose against the itch of tears and touched Levi’s hand. He gripped my fingers, tight enough to hurt, and I held on as words slipped through my grasp.

I should have been there. It was my fault he’d thought I didn’t care enough, and even if he’d chosen to forgive me, I sure wasn’t ready to do the same.

I should have fucking been there.

He drew a shaky breath. “Stop,” he told me. “You didn’t know. If you had, you would have dropped everything to be there—I know that now.”

I swallowed, dimly aware that his parents were listening. “Never should have made you doubt it.”

He shook his head, the pool’s gentle blue glow dancing along his features. “We both made mistakes. Let’s leave it at that and move on.”

His tone made it clear he didn’t want me to argue, so I didn’t. No one said more for a bit—not awkward, just thoughtful and a little heavy with memories. I remembered the first time I’d met Jessica, backstage before a concert. Levi and I had still been edging around each other, a mix of excitement and trepidation flirting along my spine each time I thought about taking a step I couldn’t undo.‘Jess, this is Cass,’he’d said, and she treated me to this slow, knowing smile that said she could read me like an open book.

Eventually, Levi’s hold on my hand eased and I let him go, my feet still loosely clasping one of his. He made no attempt to move away.

Conversation resumed slowly, in little starts and stops. Cecily and Geoff asked me about my music, something in their voices suggesting they’d listened to at least some of it and had maybe drawn their own conclusions. I doubted Levi had bothered, or he might have been less inclined to think I didn’t care—I’d chosen my singles to be less revealing, but half the songs on my second and third albums had regret stamped all over them.

Levi’s parents turned in around ten, claiming they were knackered, and then it was just Levi and me on the terrace. The pool lights had dimmed, not so bright as to wash out the stars, and he leaned back in his chair, face turned up to the sky. His neck was slim and elegant. I wanted him so much it felt like a physical ache that sliced through my gut.

Hischoice.

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