Page 160 of Never Die for a Sinner
I shrug. “What it would be like to have a normal family.”
“What—two parents?”
“Twolovingparents,” I correct.
Levi says nothing.
“Having a loving family doesn’t make life perfect,” I go on, “but it makes things easier. At least you’d know someone had your back.”
He turns to me then, the shadows on his face deepening.
“People leave, Ava. No one is permanent.”
My chest aches. Finally, I understand the contract—the boundaries, the rules. This distance he insists on keeping. It isn’t coldness. It’s fear. He’s been abandoned so many times, he’d rather push people away than risk being left again.
“What about just one person who understands you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
The silence that follows feels louder than anything else.
I surprise us both when I rise, my breath catching as I shift over the center console and slide into his lap. Levi doesn’t stop me. He leans back slightly, his eyes trailing up my body like a flame tracing a fuse—slow and hot. When our gazes finally collide, something unspoken passes between us, electric and weighty.
Then I see it—just a flicker, but it’s there. The subtle bob of his throat as he swallows. A moment of vulnerability, as if I’ve touched something deep inside him. Like he’s fighting the urge to give in.
Like I could have anything I asked for, anything at all. All I have to do is say the words.
“Don’t you want someone to love you unconditionally?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper as my hands trail down his chest.
A muscle twitches in his jaw. “Not all of us are so lucky, baby girl.”
He says it like it’s a fact of life. Like he’s already decided that kind of love isn’t meant for him. His eyes—ice-blue and to my peridot green—search mine.
The air in the car feels alive, humming with something neither of us dares to name. A quiet moment stretches between us, and then—
“You—”
But I never get to finish.
His mouth crashes onto mine, cutting me off mid-thought, mid-breath. And just like that, my world tilts. Heat blooms through me, scorching and all-consuming. His kiss is rough and hungry, like he’s starving. Like this kiss is the only thing anchoring him to the present. To me.
And I realize—this is dangerous. I’m in too deep. I’m slipping into something I swore I’d avoid. I told myself I wouldn’t fall. That I couldn’t afford to. But how could I not?
Levi Cross is like the first breath after nearly drowning—gasping, desperate, necessary. He’s fire in my bloodstream, oxygen in my lungs, a lighthouse in the dark. He’s every daydream I clung to as a scared little girl, wishing for someone,anyone, to keep me safe. To choose me.
He’s everything. And he doesn’t even know it.
His hands trail down my back, firm and possessive, before gripping my ass and hauling me closer. He groans into my mouth—a low, guttural sound that shoots straight through me. There’s a tremble in his fingers, a tension in his body that says he’s holding back more than he’s letting on. He clutches me like he’s afraid I’ll disappear, like he’s already lost me once and won’t survive losing me again.
I roll my hips over him, sighing softly at the friction.
“Goddamn, baby,” he rasps.
When he drags me flush against his chest, his kiss deepens. Hot. Desperate. Like I’m the only thing that’s ever made him feel alive.
“Ava . . .” he breathes, lips ghosting down my jaw and to the soft skin of my neck.
“Yeah?” My voice is hoarse, trembling. The windows are fogging up from our breath, our shared heat turning the car into a cocoon.
“I . . .” His voice cracks on the word. He falters. I lean back slightly, fingers brushing the scar etched into his bottom lip—the one I’ve traced in my dreams more times than I can count.
