Chapter 49
Levi
now
Greedy’s been putzing around the kitchen for the last twenty minutes. When I popped in to ask if he needed help, he insisted he had it under control. Whatever he’s making smells heavenly, so I left him to it.
Spence excused himself to take a business call over an hour ago and hasn’t emerged from his room since.
I see my shot. I’m taking it.
I climb the stairs two at a time, relishing the burn in my left quad with each stride. The cool, crisp mountain air combined with the daily stretches and strength training regimen I’ve adopted means I’m feeling better than I have in months.
I’m anxious to get back to South Chapel and return to physical therapy. It’s time to up the weights, push my intensity, and add distance to my training. I’ve been reading everything I can about rehab and recovery. Over the last few weeks, I’ve even felt an inkling of hope.
When I came back to North Carolina, I accepted that any chance of a football career had been shot to hell. But I still love the game.
I’ve even started entertaining the idea of playing again. Even if I can’t make it to the pros, there’s a chance I could play at another school, or maybe a farm team, or for a different league.
If I keep up with my rehab and my healing continues the way it has been, maybe my days on the field aren’t over.
It feels good to move. It’s a reminder that I’m alive.
I’m alive, and my life has taken the most twisted turns over the last few months. Yet I wouldn’t want it any other way. Not when I consider Hunter and Greedy and Spence.
Grinning, I reach the top of the stairs and knock softly.
There’s no answer, so I peek my head inside. Finding the bedroom empty, I slip in and quietly walk to the opposite end of the room.
When I tap my knuckles softly on the doorframe, Hunter startles. A heartbeat later, her lips tip up in a smile and she beams at me, her eyes bright and her posture straightening.
Fuck if that doesn’t make me feel like a goddamn superstar.
“How’d I know this is where you’d be?”
“I love it in here,” she says, scanning the space wistfully. “I always have.” Her smile softens. “Come sit with me?”
She sets a pink notebook and a pen next to her e-reader and shifts over on the chaise lounge to make room for me by her side.
Tipping at the waist, I greet her with a kiss, then I slip in beside her and scoop up her legs so they’re in my lap.
As I settle, I survey the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
They’re jam-packed with books, old and new, but all are hers.
Some are positioned with the spines displayed like the books on a library shelf.
Others are flipped to display the brightly painted pages.
A few are on full display in the middle of shelves, almost like trophies.
“He told me what he did,” I remark, rubbing her bare legs mindlessly. “Updating it, adding your books.”
“It’s amazing,” she admits, her tone breathy. “Although that’s not how I felt when I first found out.” She frowns. “I don’t even know why I was angry.”
“That was before,” I remind her gently.
Before she confronted him. Before they came up with the bright idea of hate-fucking one another out of their systems. Before their animosity boiled over and they finally imploded.
Before her mother and Dr. F dropped the bomb.
I’m still reeling from the declaration. Greedy insisted he wanted to be the one to take care of Daisy last night. I allowed it and even convinced Kabir not to sleep outside her bedroom door.
I wanted them to have that time together.
Now it’s my turn.
“Before,” she eventually repeats, tracing the tendons of my forearm where I have it wrapped around her bare legs. She shakes her head and gives me a sad smile. “I hope like hell too much time hasn’t passed.”
“It hasn’t.” I pull her into my arms until she’s snug against my chest. “We’re together now, right?”
She nods, so I bite my tongue, leaving it at that. At some point, I’d like to define that word—together—and discover what she hopes for the four of us. What she envisions for the future.
My phone vibrates in my pocket then, causing Hunter to jump.
We both laugh, and I adjust my hips so she’s not sitting directly on the device. Before I’ve even settled again, it vibrates a second time.
“Hold on,” I mutter, shifting to one side and digging it out.
Before I even glance at the screen, I move Hunter where I want her. With a sigh, she leans into my side and curls her legs up on the opposite end of the lounger.
“It’s just a text,” I confirm, pulling up the first message from my mother.
I read it, then read it again.
I’m reading the second message when a third appears.
The tension in my muscles coils tighter as I process each word.
Fuck it all to fucking shit.
“What’s wrong?” Hunter asks. She’s perceptive as hell.
“What’s today’s date?” I ask.
“December twenty-sixth,” she replies instantly. “Hope you wished Spence a happy Boxing Day.” She pokes my side, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel anything, honestly, as I stare down at the words on the screen.
I swallow past the lump that’s lodged itself in my throat. “My mom says she can’t keep me on her health insurance in the new year.”
Hunter’s eyes narrow. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Can’t.” I grimace. “Unless I commit to meeting with her friend from church.”
This time, Hunter’s the one who stiffens. “What kind of friend?”
I fight back a smile. Damn, I love that she gets feisty and jealous at the idea of my mom trying to set me up.
“The man who owns a branch of Chapel Hill Insurance. She wanted him to mentor me, remember? And she wanted me to eventually take out a small business loan and open my own branch.”
Hunter wrinkles her nose. “She’s manipulating you.”
I shrug. Regardless, what other options do I have?
I’m living on the goodwill of Dr. Ferguson and Greedy.
Aside from daily rehab and hanging out with my friends, I don’t have any plans for the new year.
Greedy has another year of college to look forward to, and Hunter is already so excited for the new semester.
I don’t want to be left behind or be the weakest link in the group.
“Maybe I should just hear him out?”
“Levi. No.”
I stiffen at her use of my given name.
Sighing, I pluck my baseball cap from my head and run my hand through my hair.
“You know what you’re doing with your life.
So does Greedy. Kabir certainly has his shit figured out.
I don’t want to be the bum not pulling his weight in this…
” I trail off when I catch the direction my train of thought was headed.
Hunter pokes me in the ribs and grins. “In this what, Duke?”
“In whatever this is.” I slump back, defeated. Reality is such a bitch.
A few minutes ago, I was pumped about getting back into the gym. About how maybe I would have the chance to play football again.
Fucking pipe dream is what that was. It’s time to man up and figure out what I’m actually going to do with my life now that I’m back in South Chapel.
Hunter interrupts my thoughts with another caress of my arm. This time, she trails her fingertips all the way down my hand and interlaces our fingers. “You don’t have to do what she wants, Duke. We can figure something else out.”
No one else should have to figure out my shit for me, though.
“I don’t want to be anyone’s charity case,” I lament.
I don’t know what the hell I want, but I’m almost certain I don’t want to be an insurance dude wearing a polo and khakis, getting up early to go to chamber of commerce meetings and talking my family and friends into letting me provide free quotes for them.
Despite that, there’s dignity in work. In pulling my own weight and contributing meaningfully to a relationship. So even if it’s not the dream, it might not be such a bad thing, owning an insurance company. I could at least do my research. Remaining on my mom’s health insurance would be a bonus.
“I don’t have to actually make a commitment. I could just… see what the guy has to say.”
I hold my breath, sure that Hunter’s on the brink of arguing. I can sense it in her: the battle waging behind her eyes, her intense desire to protect me.
Yet when she finally replies, her tone is light. “If you decide to go, I’m going with you.”
My heart catches in my throat. Her willingness to support me, even if she doesn’t agree, means more than she could possibly know.
“She wants it to be this weekend,” I hedge. She being my mother. It being the luncheon after church. “We’ll have to attend service and then go out to lunch.”
“Okay,” Hunter confirms, emotionless. “I’ll put it on my calendar. I’ll make sure Greedy and Kabir know we need to be back in South Chapel by this weekend.”
“Thank you,” I say softly, tipping her chin back to kiss her.
“You’re welcome,” she whispers against my lips. She wraps her arms around my neck and interlocks her fingers. Instinctively, I grip her hips and guide her onto my lap so she’s properly straddling me as I kiss her.
She swivels her hips, so I thrust up and match her movements, rubbing my hardening length between the apex of her thighs.
“Is this how you show your gratitude, Dukey?”
She’s such a brat.
“This is how I show you something,” I tease, gripping the back of her head so I can move her right where I want her.
Our tongues dance, and she lets me lead, softly murmuring with each swipe and opening farther for me so I can deepen the kiss.
She allows me to explore, and I take my fucking time sucking on her plush bottom lip. Nudging the tip of my tongue against hers.
As our kisses turn sloppier, needier, her body melts for me, yielding until she’s soft and pliant in my arms.
Every time she brushes against my hard, aching length, she encourages me with her little pants and moans. God, I could listen to her make those noises all day long.
“Daisy,” I say sweetly, running my nose along her jaw then kissing down her neck. “Can I go down on you, pretty girl?”
She squeezes her thighs in response and kisses me deeper. “Of course you can.”