Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Levi
It took a few minutes before either of our brains started working again. I lifted her hips, my cock sliding out of her as she shifted to the side and settled next to me.
The moment my mind started working again, all I could think was—what the hell was I doing?
There was something different about this with Avery and Mateo. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced with other people before. That scary feeling I had with Mateo came roaring back as Avery sprawled out on top of me.
“You’re thinking about something,” she murmured. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong with this or us,” I said quickly. “I just . . .”
I trailed off. Maybe this wasn’t the right time to get deep.
“Tell me. I want to know. Talk to me,” she urged.
I blew out a slow breath. “I just don’t know where I fit in anymore. I don’t know what I want exactly. So many people have told me I’m at the height of my career, and yet I just want to walk away from it all. I woke up one day and asked myself if I was happy—and I wasn’t.”
Avery let out a soft hum and wrapped her arms around my chest, resting her head at the center. “So that’s why you came to Whynot? But aren’t you planning on going back in a few weeks?”
I didn’t even want to think about that now. It was hard to imagine leaving Whynot while Avery was in my arms.
“I’ll need to decide by then if I’m going back or not. Regardless, I’m off for the season. I’ve pissed a lot of people off, I’m sure. I’m not really sure what’s going to happen with my career. But there’s a part of me that doesn’t care.”
“Is it that you don’t care or is it that you’re avoiding confrontation?”
I wrinkled my nose, sliding my gaze down to the top of her head. She smiled against my chest without looking up.
“I’ve been there,” she said. “I know how it feels. I also know how it feels to wonder where you fit in with what you do. Being an artist, everything I do is dependent on how I feel. I have to be in the right headspace to create art, and if I’m not, I can’t even pick up a paintbrush.
Everything in the world feels bleak and I’m left wondering if I’ll ever make art again. That’s how it was when my dad died.”
My hand settled on her side and I rubbed her gently up and down. “What changed? All the art I’ve seen from you is beautiful.”
“Well, when he died, there were a lot of life changes that happened for me at once. I moved back to the town I swore I’d never live in.
I took over his gallery and the expectation to know how to run a business fell on my shoulders.
My brothers got a lot thrown their way too.
And on top of it, my mom lost it. She still isn’t whole.
I don’t think she ever will be. She never imagined a world without my dad in it. Hell, I didn’t either.”
She drew in a shaky breath, her arms tightening around me.
“I couldn’t create anything for the first two months. All I had room for was action. To learn how to take over things, to be there for my family, to move into a new place. I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually be an artist again. I thought I’d lost my spark.”
“I can’t ever imagine you not painting.”
“I didn’t either until then. I wondered if I’d been lying to myself about being an artist. I went to school for it, which felt silly, but I reached for my dreams because of my dad. I’d sold a few pieces by then, but I convinced myself I was a fake.”
A soft hum filled my throat. Whenever I recalled my summers visiting Whynot, if I thought about Avery, it was remembering her always creating something. Drawing, painting, making pottery out of mud. The need to create had always been there for her.
“It was a dark time. But then, I had a day with nothing to do. Nothing. I sat on the floor in my living room and stared at the clock my dad gave me years ago when I said I wanted to become an artist, and I finally cried. It was like a dam broke, and all of my pain and sadness and anger and frustration rushed out. I had to do something with it. I couldn’t just sit there anymore.
And this pressure I’d put on myself to be something I wasn’t disappeared.
I didn’t have the strength to keep feeling like a fraud anymore, so I let it go. I picked up a paintbrush.”
“And you made art again.”
“I did.” She tilted her head and looked up at me.
“Everything ebbs and flows. Sometimes your passion for something disappears. Sometimes it needs to so that when it comes back, you’re reminded why you loved it in the first place.
The art I created after my dad passed away made enough money so I could rebuild parts of the gallery and studio.
I was able to fund community classes and discovered I had a love for teaching.
That collection ended up in a few magazines and on the walls of people with way more money than I could ever dream of.
So even though he was gone, he was still there for me.
My art was still there for me. I never lost it.
It just needed rest. My heart needed space for grief. It still needs space for grief.”
I swallowed hard and looked up at the ceiling. “The thing is—hockey was never that for me. I do love it. I’m good at it. I got really damn lucky with how my career ended up. But it’s never fulfilled me the way your art fulfills you.”
“What does fulfill you then? What brings you joy?”
My heart skipped a beat. I knew what brought me joy, but it wasn’t anything more than a silly hobby.
Avery sat up slightly, smoothing her hand up my chest. “I just felt every muscle in your body tense.”
I blew out a breath, trying to relax. She was far too observant for her own good. I had a feeling I’d never be able to hide from Avery. Not really, anyway.
“What is it?” she murmured.
“It’s just silly.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
I pressed my lips together, trying to decide if I was actually going to show her.
I hadn’t shown anyone this. Not a single soul.
Avery swung her leg over my hips and settled on top of me, planting her hands on my chest. Waves of blue shifted forward as she looked down at me, her brow raising.
“Spill,” she said. “Tell me your secrets, my darling, brooding man.”
I snorted, but an ease rushed over me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I realized I was comfortable with her. Although the idea of showing her something I enjoyed—something I’d kept a secret for so long—made me nervous.
“When I used to visit in the summers, it was hard, because my dad and I never got along,” I said. “I think everyone in Whynot was aware of our problems. He was a mean bastard.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. I’ve worked through my grief with him.
A lot of therapy and a lot of time away.
But here’s the thing, Avery. When I was here, your dad stepped in, and your family always gave me a second home.
There was one summer when I was fifteen, and Austin and I had started getting into trouble here and there.
The night before, we’d gone around town and hit people’s mailboxes. ”
“Oh my god, I remember that,” she said. “Austin got grounded.”
“He got grounded and I was so fucking scared my dad was going to hear about it from yours. But instead, your dad took me outside and gave me a stern talking to. My ears were fucking red by the time he finished. Then he gave me a camera and told me ‘do something useful and go take pictures of a cactus heart. I need it for a reference.’”
Avery grinned. “That was a pretty good impersonation.”
I smiled as I thought about how mad I’d been. Mr. Whynot had been so blunt and direct, and the thought of taking pictures had felt so stupid at the time.
“I was such an angry teen. I told him he was being a dick. Taking pictures was stupid. No one wanted photographs of anything. His art was stupid. I said so many mean things, and he didn’t bat an eye.
He shoved the camera in my hands and told me to take a walk.
Never threatened to tell my dad on me. Never threatened to kick me out.
He was stern, but he was never mean. I don’t think that man had a mean bone in his body. ”
My throat burned and Avery’s expression softened, her eyes glossing with tears.
“I ended up staying outside until the sun set. I took so many pictures. They were all bad, I’m sure. I took pictures of cacti and lizards and the sky and random shit all around town. I can’t paint or draw to save my life, but photography makes me happy. Your dad changed my life that day.”
I swallowed down the sadness I felt in knowing he was gone.
“Part of the reason I wanted to visit him when I got in town was because photography became my hobby over the years. I don’t know if I’m any good, but I wanted to thank him.
It’s something I never talk about or show people because it’s always been just for me, but it’s kept me grounded amid all the other career stuff.
Being in the hockey world has changed my life for the better in so many ways, but I think having this for myself kept me from turning into too much of an ass.
I’ve seen it happen to so many guys—it all goes to their head, and then they ruin their lives.
” I paused, mulling over the fact that I’d literally just walked out the door on my career.
“Well, maybe I have ruined my life now, I don’t know.
But what I do know is that your dad changed me. And I’ll be forever grateful to him.”
Avery sniffled and I reached up, thumbing away a tear as it fell.
“That’s how he was,” she whispered. “Always helping people. Always bringing them together. And don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t perfect. Austin, Dallas, and I have spent the last two years cleaning up some of the financial messes he left behind. But he’s part of the reason I’m an artist.”
“He’s part of the reason Whynot felt like a home to me,” I murmured.
But now, Mateo and Avery were starting to make it feel that way too.
Avery grabbed hold of my wrist and brought my hand to her lips, kissing the inside of my palm with a gentleness that made everything in my world turn upside down.
There was something different about me when I was with her.
Content.
She made me feel content.
She settled all the wild storms in my heart and quieted the rush of thoughts. She made me forget about all of my worries and the weight on my shoulders that held me down.
Avery wiped her eyes and shook her head. “All right. No more tears. I just had some of the best sex I’ve ever had, and don’t want to be digging into big feelings.”
I raised a brow. “Best sex, huh?”
“Some of the best sex,” she said with a smirk.
“I bet Mateo is right up there too, huh?”
“He sure is. So, are you going to show me your pictures or what?”
My hands fell to her hips and I held her in place as I sat up, stealing a thousand little kisses that had her giggling. Her arms wound around my neck, her legs around my waist as I peppered more on her cheeks.
“Oh,” she laughed. God, her laugh was a gift. “You monster.”
“A kissing monster.”
She grabbed hold of my face and moved hers just in time so that our lips met. I smiled against her, reveling in the taste of her, the feeling of her body against mine. I caught her whimper in my mouth as our kiss deepened, her sweetness changing to something hotter, something needier.
“Levi,” she rasped. “You’re supposed to show me your pictures.”
“Do I have to?” I sighed.
“Yes,” she giggled, drawing back from me. “I want to see them. Oh, I just realized.” She narrowed her eyes on me as if she’d made a discovery. “The camera was what was in your bag the other night on the porch.”
“It was,” I chuckled.
“Did you go to any of the places I recommended?”
“I walked down main street,” I said. “I did go through the courtyard at the hotel. You were right. It was perfect.”
“I want to see them. Because if we get distracted again, I know I won’t.”
She had a point.
I wrinkled my nose and sat up in bed, groaning as my feet hit the floor. “They’re not even that good.”
“I’m sure they are.”
Now I was nervous about showing them to her. What if they were complete trash? I slowly stepped up to my dresser and pulled open the top drawer, pausing when I saw what was on top.
My jersey.
I’d forgotten all about it over the last couple weeks. I stared at the number ninety on the front, our team’s purple bear logo printed on soft silver mesh material. I brushed my fingertips over it and smiled.
“You know what? I’ll show you. If you wear this.” I pulled the jersey from my drawer. Was I being a little possessive? Yes. Was this kind of like a cowboy marking his territory by having his partner wear his hat? Also yes.
But I really wanted to see her in my jersey.
Avery smirked. “Deal.”