“Hi, Levi.”
SOMEONE SPIKED MY DRINK. There’s no other explanation for why I’m seeing Laney Jacobs sprawled out on the ground, staring up at me with those fucking doe eyes that have haunted my dreams for the past eight years. Except it really is her because she just said my name in that unmistakably sexy voice I couldn’t forget if I tried.
My mind is stuck. Completely frozen. And despite any attempt otherwise, I’m unable to keep my eyes from roaming every inch of her. She must be just as shocked as I am because she too is staring at me like she just saw a ghost, and I can only imagine what we would look like to someone that happened to walk by.
She opens her mouth several times but nothing comes out. Yeah, I know the feeling. I honestly never thought that this moment would come, and now that it’s here, the
only thing running on repeat in my head is—
“What the hell are you doing here?” Her eyes widen a fraction and she purses her lips. Seriously? What the hell did she expect me to say? “Welcome home. How’ve you been? Let’s have dinner.” Fuck no. I’ve got to give her credit, though. Even with my harsh words, she still keeps hers eyes locked on mine. And holy shit . . . those eyes. I used to find them hypnotizing. Sage and emerald green with swirls of soft caramel. I could get lost in them for days on end with no sense of time. It’s a damn good thing they have absolutely no effect on me at all anymore.
None.
Zilch.
Nada.
She’s splayed out on the parking lot, leaning back casually on her palms as though she just sat down to relax. Her short little legs look a mile long in her cutoff jean shorts. She’s wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt that does nothing for the sexy little body that I know she’s got hiding underneath. And what I wouldn’t give to have it wrapped around me again for just one more night.
She clears her throat and my gaze snaps to hers. Warmth slides up my neck, seeping into my cheeks. I clench my jaw. Hard. Fucking embarrassing. I don’t mind getting caught ogling a beautiful woman, but I sure as hell don’t want to get caught ogling this woman. Surprisingly, she doesn’t look smug. No, she looks . . . hopeful, which does nothing to help me sort the through the jumbled mess of emotions I’ve got floating around. Sitting up, Laney brushes her hands together, knocking off the dirt.
“This is my home,” she whispers, peeking up at me under a thick set of bangs that weren’t there the last time I saw her. I shouldn’t be surprised. Deep down I knew she wouldn’t stay the same, but I can’t help but wonder what else about her has changed. Are Calla lilies still her favorite flower? Does she still eat triple fudge ice cream and French fries when she’s sad? Where has she been? Where does she work? Does she still love fried pickles and deep-dish pizza? Does she ever think about me?
Laney was my world, and as I stare at her for the first time in eight years, the pull to be near her and touch her is stronger than I ever remember it. But it doesn’t seem to matter what I’m feeling, because the memory of her walking away from me—from us—is still very vivid in my mind.
“No.” I shake my head, brow furrowed. “Your home is in California. If this was your home, it wouldn’t have taken you eight years to come back.” She flinches. Her eyes dart frantically around the parking lot before she squares her shoulders and holds up her hand.
“Could you help me up?”
“No,” I answer quickly, astonished that she would even ask. There’s no way I can touch her. I’ve worked too damn hard to purge her from my system, and I’m terrified that one touch of her silky skin is all it would take to erase the past eight years. My gaze drifts to her hand. If I close my eyes, I’m certain I could still feel the way the pads of her fingers used to roam across my chest, trail down my abs, grab onto my c—
Fuck no. I push away the memory before I actually let it in and look at her with a cool indifference.
She watches me carefully for several seconds before slowly lowering her hand back to her lap. “I should’ve never left,” she whispers. And there it is. The icing on the fucking cake. Her words slam into me at full force and I run my hand through my hair, gripping it tight.
“But you did,” I growl, hating that Laney’s been back in my life for all of two minutes and she’s already got me worked up like this. She bites her lip, her eyes shimmering.
“Worst mistake I ever made,” she says with conviction. Fucking hell, I don’t want to hear this shit now. This woman walked away without a second fucking glance, and then a couple of weeks after that, she ripped my heart out again. As if the first time wasn’t enough. So yeah, eight years ago I would have welcomed those words . . . but not now.
“Fuck!” My hands fist at my side. “What the hell do I say to that, Laney?” The look of regret and guilt written across her face is almost my undoing. “You walked away from me, remember?” My voice, along with my blood pressure, is rising with each word as I stab a finger into my chest. “You’re the one who left me.”
Her eyes stay locked on mine. I have absolutely no idea what’s going through that pretty little head of hers and it’s driving me insane.
“You gave me an ultimatum, Levi. I realize that I made more than my fair share of mistakes and I’m adult enough to admit that, but it wasn’t just me who was wrong. You forced my hand. You forced me to choose between you and my future—”
“Don’t you get it?” I yell. “I was your future, Laney. Me!” My chest is heaving and my hands are shaking. Adrenaline is running rampant through my veins and suddenly I feel exhausted. I don’t want to do this. This isn’t me. I haven’t lost my temper since that night eight years ago. Only Laney seems to bring this out in me. Well, not tonight.
“Listen”—I take a deep breath and lace my fingers above my head—“I wasn’t prepared to see you tonight and I’m not ready to hash things out with you.” Laney bites on the inside of her mouth, and just when I think she might very well burst into tears, a look of understanding slides across her face. She pushes up from the ground and it takes every last ounce of strength I have to keep from reaching out to help her up. She rubs her palms along the sides of her shorts and a bright red streak appears on the faded material.
“You’re bleeding,” I breathe, moving toward her. She lifts her hand, absently examining it.
“Huh. I guess I am.” She shrugs her shoulders as if it’s no big deal.
“Come on.” I tug on her elbow then release her almost instantly when I realize my hand is touching her skin. She doesn’t say anything, just looks down with a saddened gaze. “I have a first-aid kit in my office. Let’s clean that up.” Surprisingly, she doesn’t fight me, instead choosing to follow behind quietly as I push the door open and weave my way through the back of the restaurant toward my office. I lead her into the adjoining bathroom where she props her hip against the sink while I make quick work of finding the peroxide, antibiotic cream, and Band-Aids. I concentrate on my breathing—in and out—and my rage from a few moments ago gradually fades.
“Where’s Dan?” Her words roll casually off of her tongue—too casually. Something doesn’t sit right with me. Has she talked to my father?
“He’s finally stepping back. He’s getting too old to do this anyway.” She nods. I lay everything out on the sink and keep talking. Why, I have no idea. “Mason was supposed to take over Flame since I’m running Blue, but with all of the changes we’ve had going on, we’ve both been stretched a bit thin.”