Page 40 of Between Never and Forever
He stands in my doorway, arms folded across his chest, eyeing me with concern that makes my heart squeeze and my stomach flip.
“Are you going to leave?” I hear myself ask, and he shrugs. I shake my head. “Stay.”
I start to unbutton my shirt and he turns around. Another giggle. More laughter. He’s laughing, too. I can tell. I strip naked while his back is turned, then slip a large shirt over my head before stepping into a pair of underwear.
I’m still wobbly, but not as much as before. The colors are still here, but muted. My senses are dulling, my energy draining, but the pulsing at my core is still strong. I climb onto my mattress.
“Levi,” I say softly.
He turns toward me, and I pat the bed. He doesn’t move except for a twitch in his jaw. I smile and roll my eyes, then pat the bed again.
Slowly, he kicks off his shoes, then closes the distance between us. He lowers himself down next to me, and I lie my head on the pillow. He does the same. For a moment, we just lie there, gazing at each other. I listen to him breathe. I watch the emotions battle in his eyes as I feel my own eyes drifting shut.
I don’t want to fall asleep. I don’t want this to end.
I scoot closer and put my lips on his once more. He still tastes like whiskey. Like citrus. I whimper as his tongue tangles with mine. When he groans, I put my hands on him, tugging at his belt. Fumbling with the buckle.
He wraps his hand around mine, firm but gentle, and halts my movements.
“Sleep, Sav,” he says against my lips. I pull back to look at him, but my eyes won’t open. “Sleep.”
My body starts to obey despite my protests.
“I want you.” My voice is a rasp, my words thick and heavy. Lust. Exhaustion. The come down. “I want you, Levi.”
Gently, he moves his hand to my shoulder and turns me, then wraps his arm around my body and pulls me to his chest. His breath tickles my scalp. His palm rests on my hip. My body relaxes, like it used to when he’d hold me like this. Safe and warm and finally able to rest.
“I want you,” I mumble again through tired lips.
His arms tighten around me. His heart thunders against my back. When he speaks, it’s a whisper. Almost a plea. I barely hear it, but it’s there.
“Then still want me tomorrow.”
* * *
When I wake, it’s nearly dawn.
My sad little window AC unit whines under the weight of the humid heat, and my bedsheets stick to my bare legs. Levi’s arms tighten around me, the steady rhythm of his breathing catapulting me backward into his childhood bedroom.
I still can’t believe he’s here.
Slowly, careful not to wake him, I roll over, so we’re face to face. In the semi-darkness, I can barely make out his features, but I don’t need to see them to know them. Even three years later, I could draw him from memory. When we’re old and wrinkled, I’ll still recognize him. Age doesn’t change the way a soul feels.
When we were fifteen, I’d lie like this and watch him sleep before I had to slip out the window and leave the safety of his room. I’d study him, memorizing every freckle, every eyelash, every dream-filled pout and pained whimper. Even when he was close, he felt unattainable. Too good. Too pure. I’d tease him about it, but deep down, I agreed with his mother. I knew I’d ruin him. I’d dirty him up, tarnish his shiny gold halo, and set fire to his perfect angel wings.
Flashes of memories flicker in and out of my head, pictures of scenes from hours earlier. I close my eyes and try to bring them into focus, but everything is blurred on the edges. Like I was a witness, not a participant, watching through thick, colorful smoke.
My fingers burn, and I remember running them over Levi’s lips. Remember kissing him. Citrus and whiskey. Did it really happen, or was it just another one of my intoxicated dreams? Drunk or high, every time, I’ve dreamt of him.
I snake my hand between us, raise it to his mouth, and lightly trace his lips. His brow furrows in sleep and his nose scrunches up, and I stifle a laugh. Then I do it again, running the pads of my fingers over his lower lip.
“What are you doing?”
His gruff voice makes me jump, and I let out a startled squeak. He smirks, but he doesn’t open his eyes, and I huff, giving his chest a shove.
“You scared me, you ass.”
He tightens his arms around me and peeks one eye open.
