Chapter 6
Levi
The candle flame catches on the necklace around Andrea’s throat, and I have to swallow the food in my mouth with more difficulty than normal.
Though, out of all the women who’ve been involved in the dating show, Andrea is a good one.
She doesn’t love the sound of her own voice as much as Kris and will let me get a word in edgewise.
Despite that, I’m not doing much talking. All I can think about is the phone in my pocket and the direct communication I have with Tab now.
She never answered when I told her that my commitment was the dating show. It felt wrong to lie, but now I’m second guessing myself. I may have pissed her off. Then again, she may not think anything.
Which I have to change. Tab needs to be thinking about me as much as I’m thinking about her.
“You’re quiet,” Andrea muses, and there is zero hint of Kris’ condescending tone.
“Sorry,” I tell her. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I know what you mean. This is a lot.”
She gives me a small smile, and I can’t help but smile back even though we’re talking about two very different things.
I wish I could pull her aside and tell her what I really think of this show.
Pretty sure that breaks a few different sections of the contract though.
McNally owns me right now, unless I want to do something drastic and possibly very costly.
“I watched your game the other day. I’d like to sit down with you sometime so you can explain the rules to me because I am lost.” She laughs, but it doesn’t have the same ring to it that Tab’s does. It doesn’t warm me up, or make me feel like I accomplished something.
I wrestle out a look that hopefully appears somewhat positive instead of the “I’m sorry, I’m not going to do that” that wants to pop out of my mouth.
What I can picture is sitting back with Tab, the Sunday game on the TV, the coffee table loaded with snacks and beers. It would be like being at home.
I literally cannot get this girl out of my head.
Before seeing her at the café, it was easier to navigate, but knowing I could be talking to her right now instead of Andrea, is making me fidgety.
I can’t focus, and looking across the table doesn’t help.
Andrea is all wrong. She doesn’t have hair the color of leather and eyes the color of the bluest sky.
“Levi, are you okay?”
“I hate to do this, Andrea, but I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll have to cut this a little short.” I catch the waiter as he walks by and ask for the check. He has to sidestep a camera to do so, but he gets the job done.
The lights feel concentrated on me, lit up like a criminal who’s trying to escape prison. One of those high-powered spotlights, tracking me across the yard. Sweat starts to form on my forehead.
I fill out the check and sign then slip my card back into my wallet. Standing, Andrea follows after. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Oh hell.
I let her slip her arm through mine as we navigate around the cameras, microphones, and lighting they set up around the table. A single cameraman follows us out of the restaurant while we get weird looks from the other patrons dining in tonight. Some even take out their phones and take pictures.
My stomach squeezes, and for half a second, I wonder if I’m actually sick. I extricate myself from Andrea when we hit the front door, and I walk quickly to my car, her heels tapping along the concrete next to me.
“Maybe I should give you a ride home?” she asks.
“No,” I say too forcefully, then backtrack. I take a deep breath and let it out. “Sorry, Andrea. I just wonder if I’m getting sick, and I don’t want to get you sick.”
“I can make a mean chicken noodle soup.”
I rub my head, surprised when my fingers come back laced with sweat. “As tempting as that is, I’m a terrible patient, so I’ll brave it alone.”
I open my car door, and she lunges, wrapping her arms around my torso. “Promise me you’ll text. I want an update on how you’re doing.” She lifts up to kiss me, but I turn my head at the right time and her lips graze my cheek.
“I’ll give you an update,” I tell her, then slyly maneuver out of her grip as gracefully as possible and slip behind the wheel. For a moment, I stay there with my hands gripping the leather, trying to calm my heart. It happens almost instantly, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Peering up, I spot Andrea still by the side of the car, and I nearly jump. She’s just being sweet, but I can’t take it. I give her a quick wave and back up the car, making sure I don’t hit the cameraman, or the mic operator that’s also followed us.
I press on my clothes as I drive through the parking lot, making sure I don’t have any other mics on me. Sometimes they do both, but I was a little late today, so maybe they didn’t have time to hook me up.
Good. I want out of here as soon as possible.
Once I hit the road, a sense of ease slips over me like pulling on my pads before a game. I pull out my phone and place it in the cupholder, briefly checking if Tab has texted, and she hasn’t.
Bummer. Guess I’ll just have to force my way in. Again.
“Hey Siri, text Rapunzel.” I wait for my phone to respond, and then say, “You alive over there? Or did your wardens confiscate your new toy?” I listen to make sure the message is right and then tell my phone to send it.
I take a left to pull up next to Wingate instead of taking a right to head home.
Luckily, I find a spot to park nearby where I can see the building.
Part of me really wants to just show up at their doorstep.
There are two problems with that. One, I’m not supposed to know they’re staying here, and two, Micah wouldn’t appreciate a last-minute drop-in.
Checking my phone again, there’s still nothing. I guess I have to do what I have to do. I crack my knuckles and start texting.
Me: Oh no, have they confiscated the phone? If this is Micah, sorry, bro. I can’t help myself.
Me: She’s just so pretty.
Me: Strong.
Me: Bit of an attitude though. But that’s okay, I can handle it.
I wait a little longer, and she still doesn’t respond. She’s going to give me a complex. I peer up at the building again. There are a lot of glowing windows, but there are just as many that are dark. She could be sleeping. Or she decided to turn the phone off.
Me: I guess the watch was a waste of money.
Me: *Sings Jeopardy theme song*
Me: Well, since I have the time, let me tell you the story where I got the nickname Big Dick Levi…
Me: But I’m going to send it to you in one word texts.
I chuckle to myself, and pull my shoulders back.
Me: So
Me: this
Me: one
Me: time
Me: at
Me: …
Tab: Bandcamp?
I smirk. Yeah, buddy. I’m in.
Me: You really think I was at bandcamp?
Me: Also
Me: I KNEW YOU WERE THERE THE WHOLE TIME.
Tab: Not the WHOLE time.
Tab: The one word texts are a little annoying. I could’ve done without those.
Me: Good. Now you know I get annoying as hell when I’m ignored.
She starts and stops texting a few times, as evidenced by the dots coming up and vanishing. I rub my neck, wondering if she’s about to give me what for, or something worse.
Tab: How was your dating show thing?
My stomach squeezes. I felt unwell talking to Andrea, but how do I say that without coming across as an asshole?
It’s not only that Andrea is the wrong girl for me, it’s everything the dating show represents.
I’m not that guy anymore, and I resent everything about it.
I don’t need a reminder that there was once a part of me that thought being on a dating show would be fun.
Me: Pretty terrible actually.
Tab: Does the Levi Soucy have bad dates?
Tab: Does the Big Dick Levi lose his charm sometimes? *gasp*
I smile. I could get used to talking to Tab. She doesn’t take herself seriously all the time, and she gives as good as she gets. However, she’s misreading the reason why my date was so bad. I’ll have to clear that up.
Me: No, Tab. It’s because the girl wasn’t you.
Tab: Obviously. I would never go on a dating show.
Tab: Wait. Unless the guy was Chris Hemsworth, then a bitch will get out of bed for that.
Me: Isn’t he married?
Tab: Hence why I said I would never go on a dating show.
Me: Now I’m jealous.
Tab: You’ll get over it.
Me: I don’t think I will since you have completely glossed over the point. I wanted the date to be with you.
Tab: It’s late. You’re delirious. You’ve probably been knocked in the head one too many times.
Me: Though the last one could be true, it doesn’t make what I said untrue.
Tab: I don’t get you.
Me: I don’t get you either. Usually when I tell girls I’m into them, they at least acknowledge it. Hell, most even flatter me by saying it back.
Tab: See. That’s the problem. You haven’t been turned down enough in your life.
I don’t know what to say to that one, so I keep staring at my phone, wishing her last response would change. Is she joking? Or is she really turning me down?
Confusion sweeps through me. I guess that’s evidence that I don’t get turned down enough because it’s followed by shock. She can’t really be serious. I wait for her to text or to send a laughing emoji but it never comes.
Tab: You alright there, Playboy?
Me: No, I think I’m going to go cry myself to sleep.
Tab: If I thought that were true, I might actually feel bad.
Okay, I see what’s happening here…
I actually don’t, but I learned from a young age that negative self-talk is a soul-killer. She just wants me to try harder. That has to be it.
As if I wouldn’t.
I bite my lip to think of the perfect good night reply, so then I can plan how to woo Tabitha Riley. Maybe I’m not used to rejection, and if that’s the case, I’m certainly not going to start getting used to it now.
Me: Good night, Rapunzel. Sweet dreams. One day, you’ll let your hair down for me.
Tab: Night, Levi.
I wish I could see her reaction. Is she smiling? Annoyed? At the very least, I’ll probably be the last thing she thinks of before she closes her eyes.
The car seat hugs me as I sit back, staring up at the building.
I travel from the top to the bottom, knowing that somewhere in there, Tab is probably in her room either swooning or thinking I’m crazy.
Once I get to street level, I spot a few employees coming out of a side entrance.
They light up cigarettes, a blaze of orange against the shadows that quickly fades.
For a brief moment, I think about paying them to keep their eye on Tab for me, but I don’t know them from Adam and I wouldn’t risk her well-being like that. The urge to make sure she’s okay coats me like a second layer on my skin, slowly seeping into my pores.
Wait a minute…
I wake up my phone and scroll through my apps.
There. I smile as I open it. The guy at the store said he downloaded some sort of family app on Tab’s phone, and I have the same one.
My lips twist into a bigger grin when I see another phone listed.
Pressing on it, I have a few options, and one of them is to find their location.
Once I do, a map pulls up on the screen. Hallelujah. Thank god I added her as a family plan. Here’s my access. I’ll be able to know where she is whenever I want. A sense of calm sweeps over me.
Tab Riley, you, ma’am, aren’t even going to know what hit you.