The Fall Up

“Where the hell are you going?” I bit out entirely too roughly while pushing to my feet after her.

She began messing with her phone until it powered on with a chime. “I have a busy day tomorrow. They rescheduled my concert in LA for tomorrow night. I should probably head home. I’m taking off on vacation for a few weeks. You know, rest and relaxation and all that jazz. I’ll just call Devon for a ride.” She lifted the phone to her ear.

Fuck.

That.

“Put the phone down, Levee,” I growled.

She squeezed the phone between her shoulder and ear and lifted the empty beer bottles off the table. “I’ll just put these in the trash.” Then she flittered to the kitchen, grabbing a rag off the side of the sink and wiping away imaginary dirt from my spotless counters.

What hell is she doing?

“Levee?” I called, but apparently, Devon had just picked up.

“Hey. Can you come get me?” she asked quietly, but not quietly enough, because I’d heard the quiver in her voice loud and clear.

And that was all it took to get my legs moving in her direction.

Her back was to me, but I reached over her shoulder and snatched the phone away from her ear.

“Hey!” she shouted, spinning to face me.

My nerves were still raw and exposed from the little journey back in time, but I was mainly frustrated beyond belief.

With my gaze locked on hers, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Devon. I’ll bring her home in a little while.”

“No, the fuck you won’t,” he barked, but I pressed the end button.

She swallowed hard and pasted on a sweet smile that definitely belonged to the Levee Williams.

It just didn’t belong to my Designer Shoes.

Not at all.

“Sam, you don’t have to take me back. Give me the phone. Devon can be here in a few minutes.”

Tossing her phone onto the counter, I took a menacing step forward.

Her eyes grew wide as she backed away. “Sam, I have to go.”

I sucked in a calming breath that did nothing to quell the frustration brewing inside me. “No, you don’t. You’re freaking out about something, so open your mouth and tell me what that is.” I continued to advance. “I spill my darkest secrets and suddenly you have shit to do tomorrow? Well, guess what, Levee? I have shit to do tonight. And it starts and ends with you.”

Finally, she’d exhausted the space in my kitchen, and her back hit my sliding glass door. “I don’t know what to say. I just need to go,” she said so matter-of-factly that, if it hadn’t been for the tear that rolled down her cheek, I might have believed her.

I caught the tear with the pad of my thumb and slowly lifted the moisture into her line of sight. “Liar.”

“Sam—”

“Whether it was on the bridge or in a hospital room not even two hours ago, your tears have always told me the truth.” I dropped my damp thumb to her lips. “These are not as honest. Don’t tell me you’re fine. Don’t tell me you have to go. Don’t tell me that everything is okay. Just tell me the truth your eyes are so desperate for me to hear.”

She held my gaze for only a beat longer before she broke.

Completely.

Aly Martinez's books