Page 20 of Slow Burn
Here I was, making us dinner, letting him flirt and—the worst—flirting back. Growing attached to Amelia. And, whether I acted otherwise, to Levi too. And pretending it was all okay. I couldn’t help myself it seemed. Completely powerless.
“I want you to,” Levi leaned forward, one hand reaching for mine, the other holding Amelia’s, “I will behave, baby. I did promise I’d do my best. I want you here. I want this. I like this.” I watched as his strong fingers wove within mine, giving a gentle tug.
Heat crept up my arm, spreading through my body from that innocent touch. I bowed my head to hide my smile, nodding once. My hand reached out too, taking Amelia’s for a moment. When my eyes lifted to Levi’s, breathing was impossible.
The look in his eyes wasn’t sexy or hungry or playful. It was so much more and I felt it from the tangle of our hands, in the pulsing of my sex and the aching in my chest. Levi brushed a kiss over Amelia’s head, then brought my hand to his lips.
“Let’s eat, baby.” And we did.
It was more than dinner and I knew that. For just one night I pretended otherwise. Levi did too, for me. He even helped me clean up the kitchen, and didn’t pin me to the island and kiss me stupid again.
It was harder to leave that night than the nights before. Mostly because I knew it would be days before I would see them again. But, when I left, Levi decided that just wouldn’t do.
“Let me make you dinner tomorrow. I owe you. I cook almost as good as you.” Levi took up the entire doorway as I stood on his porch.
I was standing too close and he was leaning in more than necessary. I knew neither of us wanted the night to end, as much as I knew it had to. But, I could do dinner. That was safe and it gave me time with both of them. Plus, after a claim like that, I was eager to see what he could do in the kitchen. Not the bedroom. Nope. Just the kitchen.
At least one of those I knew I could handle.
“I do need to eat.” Was about as committal as I got.
Levi looked like he had won some major award and I felt butterflies take flight in my belly. I was sure I was too old for that. Yet, there they were. Fluttering and spiraling as he reached his hand out, skimming his thumb down my jaw. Over my mouth. I could see his muscles tighten as he gripped the door, struggling to behave as he had promised.
“Might as well eat with me, baby.” I nodded and then I twisted away before I could do something more foolish.
Like kiss him. Or let him kiss me. Or find out if I really only cared about how he handled himself in the kitchen. I was a fool who made terrible choices.
Those choices weren’t all bad, though.
For nearly a month, I had dinner every night with Levi and Amelia. We took turns cooking. Took turns behaving. Some nights, I couldn’t help myself; I lingered near him in the kitchen, pressing close as he cooked. Others, he drove it, his hands on my hips as he pressed into me, his mouth at my ear as he asked what I was feeding him now. But it wasn’t enough, not for either of us.
I lingered after, helping him put Amelia to bed. Then longer, sometimes watching some Game of Thrones. Sometimes he talked me into a movie, complete with popcorn and red vines. Between eating, flirting and pretending to behave, we got to know each other again.
We talked about his family and how their loss had changed him. He asked about my family and how my own loss, though different, had changed me. I told him about my brother, Brad. Besides Lola, he was the only one I told the truth to.
I asked about his marriage, if it had ever been good. Quashed the silly girl response when he said it hadn’t. We talked about Amelia and how she looked like him, and how he vowed he’d never ask for a DNA test. Too often, the talking did nothing to hide what was happening.
“Come here.” Levi urged one night during a GOT marathon.
I obeyed because that night, I was tired of behaving. We can’t be good all the time. We had been dancing around this thing, watching it ebb and flow, grow and burn between us for weeks. I knew something was coming. By then, I think I welcomed it.
Before the second commercial break, we were making out like teenagers. I tore his shirt off and he returned the favor. But, then he changed things. Levi made it much more than something hot and foolish on a couch with HBO playing in the background. Pinned me to the couch and leveled a look at me between kisses.
“Don’t do this if you can’t stick with us, baby. I want it. Fuck, I never wanted anything like I want to make you come tonight. Tomorrow. Every fucking night. I can’t live like I did before, not now. You were right, it can’t be about you and I. It’s got to be about us. You get that, baby?” I did, more than he knew, and I should have told him why it could never be what he wanted.
“I know, Levi. I get it.” I managed before he was kissing me again. Hard. Deep. As if sealing that as a promise.
A promise I would break because I would have to. I wouldn’t hurt him and I couldn’t hurt her. For one night, I wanted to think about me, though. What I wanted. And I wanted him. Until my phone rang, his work phone went off and the baby cried. All at once, like the universe had decided to save one of us the pain we were chasing.
“Hold that thought, baby.” Levi growled, pressing a kiss to my mouth, my nose, my eyes.
Except, I couldn’t, of course. His phone was a rescue call he was needed on. Mine was a Dorchester area code that doused the fire Levi had lit like a bucket of ice water. After Levi left, I made a promise to myself, and to Amelia. I would give everything I could to them both, while I could. But I was running out of time and I couldn’t give as much as they deserved.
I didn’t deserve any part of them, but I would take what I could get for now. I was selfish with them both. When Levi came home, smoky and dirty, I didn’t know what to expect. I would give him whatever he wanted. Whatever he asked, I was going to give it. That night, he just wanted me.
I slept in his bed for the first time that night, but we didn’t pick up where we had left off. I held him while he told me about the call and how it had almost gone bad. How he hated those calls; now more than ever because of Amelia. Because of me. How could I tell him I didn’t deserve that, didn’t deserve him or Amelia? How, when he made me feel like I deserved everything.
How could I look at that beautiful man and that precious Princess and tell them they didn’t deserve me because I could only hurt them?
