I laugh, knowing Michael’s competitive spirit and typical winning streak. I’m happy he lost a game; he probably deserved it for something.
When things calm down (and Michael is only half-grumbling, and Keagan has stopped running around yelling “WINNEERRRRS!” in his loudest voice), I find my way back to the barstool. Before I can get comfortable, Levi sits beside me, his elbows resting on the bar behind us. I get a split-second thrill looking at him, admiring his well-cut jaw and shoulders and long legs. Then I snap myself out of La-la Land and realize he’s said something.
“Wait, what?” (I blush. Profusely.) He laughs, leftover flush from his victory on his cheeks. “Nothing. You look dazed. Are you tired?”
How to answer that question… “…Yes,” I decide on. “A little.”
“New job stuff?”
I smile—he remembered. “Mostly that. Also, parties wear me out.”
“Why?”
“Nerves.” I don’t know why I’m telling him this. I’m headed straight for embarrassment.
He tips his head back. “You don’t look nervous.”
“Ha!” It’s the second time I’ve burst out laughing at something he’s said, and I want to tell him that right there is a sign of nerves. But that would mean admitting that he makes me nervous. No can do, Beautiful Boy. “Well, that’s good to know.”
Levi takes a sip of beer and sets his bottle on the counter behind us. “So what’s this new job?”
I smile. “I’m a florist’s assistant. The delivery girl—whatever you want to call it.”
He returns my smile with his own. “That suits you.”
“Really?” (You don’t know me, I want to say. Not yet, you don’t, I want to add.) “You have that look about you. It’s the long hair, I think.”
I pat the bun on my head. For the second time, I’m thrilled he remembered that detail from our meeting yesterday; I’d worn my hair down when I picked up my car. “At least it does something.”
His expression asks me why: one eyebrow raised, the left corner of his mouth tightened in a quirk.
I sigh. “I once donated fifteen inches of my hair to Locks of Love. Great decision, don’t get me wrong, but it was…not my best look. I couldn’t do anything with it. I know I wear it up a lot now, but at least there’s the option when I need it.”
He nods. “Fair enough.” He runs a hand through his own hair, ruining his perfect coif. His fingers are thin and smooth, but I remember their steady grip from our handshake yesterday.
At this sudden and vivid memory, my body reacts with a ruddy blush that lights up my face. How nice. It was just a frickin’ handshake, dammit.
“What about your job?” I ask. Time for a distraction. “How do you know about cars?”
Levi takes another swig from his bottle and sighs. “My dad’s worked with cars since before I was born.”
I raise one eyebrow. “So…you grew up inside an engine?”
Levi is about to answer when Keagan pops up beside me, interrupting. “His dad practically owns Maserati.”
Levi looks positively horrified. “He doesn’t.”
“He might as well,” Keagan adds.
“Owns a Maserati, or…owns…Maserati?” I take a deep breath of realization, my head filling with seven and eight figure numbers and multiple dollar signs.
“Um.” Levi spreads his hands and looks at me apologetically. “Both, actually. My dad grew up in a local shop, same as me, but then he invested, and hit the jackpot, and, well…he got really wealthy really fast. He owns some of the best and fastest cars in the world.”
He looks so uncomfortable. I want to make him smile. “So you grew up inside a…very…expensive engine?”
I almost regret the dumb joke as soon as it’s out of my mouth, but it makes Levi laugh. He likes my dumb jokes! “Yeah, basically,” he replies. “It wasn’t always what I wanted, but it’s got me a good job now.”
“Hey, Levi!”
All three of us turn toward the speaker: a girl with shoulder-length dyed-blue hair, standing on the other side of the pool table. She waves ecstatically at Levi.
“Elle!” Levi waves back, sliding off his barstool. “Stay here,” he commands, catching me by surprise. I comply, even though I can’t tell if he wants me to stay there because he wants to be alone with this girl or if it’s because he wants to be able to find me after. He bounds toward Elle, wrapping his arms around her in an all-encompassing hug that makes me smile.
I lose the rest of their moment when Keagan stands directly in front of me, green eyes locked onto mine. “Little Bee, if you have the hots for my best friend, I swear I will—”
“Keagan, shut up and sit down,” I interrupt, yanking on his arm. He sits on the barstool next to mine.
He laughs, shrugging. “I was going to say I will fully support the idea, but whatever. He’s pretty nice, huh?”
“Yeah,” I murmur.
“Actually, I take that back. He’s not just nice, he’s the nicest, a one of a kind rarity, almost extraterrestrial, full of brilliance unmatched by the world.”
I laugh. “I didn’t realize this. I’ll take it into consideration next time I talk to him.”
“Good. He’d never say it of himself, of course, but we all know it to be true.”
“I suppose I’ll see for myself soon enough.” I furrow my brow, trying to sort out their friendship. “How long have you known him?”
“Close to eight years, I think. I knew him when my mom lived in L.A. We kept in touch when I was in Colorado and then reconnected here.”
I give him a smile, and hope it doesn’t look like pity. His mother is…wild. He moved here to escape her, get a good job, and bring his sister here when he can get custody. “I’m glad you did.” I glance over at Levi and Elle (sort of hoping he’ll come back to talk to me again). “His family sounds interesting,” I say, for lack of a more eloquent way to express what I feel. The type of people who have that kind of money don’t really hang out with the Middle-Class People of Escondido.
“They are…um…well. Not really a family anymore.” Keagan shrugs. “His parents divorced, a couple of years ago.”
“Ah.” I wonder if that’s why he was so hesitant to talk about his dad. “That sucks.”
“You have no idea,” he agrees.
I want to be nosy, but I let it go. Across the room, Levi and Elle are standing closely, her white shirt contrasting against his red sweater. He’s got the sleeves rolled up (the room is getting warm), gesturing, as if asking how tall something is. Elle nods and says something I can’t hear. Ugh, I think, and then blurt, “Are they dating?”
Keagan nearly snorts out a sip of beer. “Levi and Elle? Ha! No.”
Okay, then. I try again. This time, it’s the question I really want to ask, the question I’ve been dying to ask since I first saw him. “Why does he wear those bright sweaters?”
This seems to get Keagan’s attention. He looks at me, closely studying my face, for an uncomfortably long time.
“What?” I ask warily, leaning away from him.
“I’m just trying to figure out if you’re serious.”
An exasperated sigh escapes me. “I know nothing.”