She darted her gaze away, embarrassed. “See, funny thing about cell phones. I don’t actually know your number by memory.”
I rolled my eyes and started to give her more shit when a soda cup hit me in the back of the head. A motorist shouted from his car, “Move, asshole!”
“Son of a bitch!” I cursed, wiping the liquid off the back of my shirt.
I scowled when Levee began giggling.
The smile she tossed back at me immeasurably eased the vise on my chest.
She was…really and truly…fine.
And, as she flipped off the angry soda guy as he sped away, it didn’t even pain me to admit it.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said, tugging on her arm. “No more fucking bridges. I’m officially making solid ground our thing.”
She nodded enthusiastically and followed me to the car.
“I’m sorry, Henry. I’m serious,” Levee said into the phone as I put my cigarette out and headed back through the balcony door to join her on the bed.
We were in a budget hotel not far from the bridge where I’d found her.
I had attempted to take Levee back to the rehab center, but she quickly put that idea on the back burner by dropping her hand into my lap. I wasn’t budging on the fact that we needed to talk about what had led her to bolt the way she had.
But I was a man, and I hadn’t seen her in weeks.
A hotel room at least kept my options open for after that chat.
“Hey, my mom is beeping in again. I’ll call you in a little while. Okay. I love you too.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to switch calls.
“I’m fine!” Levee huffed into the phone without so much as a greeting. “No! Do not come to Maine, Mom.” She groaned before copping an attitude. “Well, I guess you can, but I won’t be here.” She shot me an exasperated look then rolled her eyes. “Okay, I need to go. Yep. I’m great. Uh-huh. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye.”
Her mom was still talking on the other end when she hung up.
She tossed my phone on the bed and sighed, flopping down beside me. “You would think that I was lost on the streets of Abu Dhabi for a month.”
“They were worried, Levee.”
She curled into my arms, tangling her legs with mine. “Oh bullshit. Dad’s mistress was probably worried this would affect her new jewelry collection, and Mom was probably just concerned that she’d have to finally acknowledge her at my funeral. Ick!” Her shoulders shuddered in disgust. “There is a reason I don’t talk to my parents. I’ll sign a check any day of the week if it keeps them in Arizona and away from me.”
I filed that little rant in the things-to-ask-Levee-about-when-we-didn’t-have-a-million-other-things-to-talk-about folder in the back of my mind.
With a sigh, she shifted her head onto my pillow and placed a kiss on my lips. It started out as chaste, but it didn’t take long before our tongues were gliding against each other and our bodies found a similar rhythm, grinding together.
“Why are you wearing so much clothes?” she asked, slinging a leg over my hips to rub her core over my cock, which was unfortunately still hidden within the denim.
“Because I want to talk to you about today.” I grabbed her ass to still her movements.
“Ugh! I swear you are the most talkative man I’ve ever met. You’re supposed to want to have sex all the time, and I’m supposed to want to talk. Which I don’t. So let’s skip to the sex part.”
She went in for another kiss, but I placed my lips on her forehead instead.
“Tell me why you were on the bridge, Levee,” I whispered.
“I already told you. I didn’t have my phone, and I knew that was where you’d look for me.”
“Not the one today. The one when we first met.”
Her whole body stiffened in my arms. “I…uh…I guess was just exhausted and overwhelmed.” She shrugged.
“That I know. You have to give me more though.”
She rolled to her back and blew a breath out but didn’t say a single word.
“Tell me why you were on the bridge, Levee,” I urged again.