Chapter 10 #2
A small, crooked smile tugged at his mouth as he studied my face. “Startled you, huh?” He leaned in just a fraction more, voice dropping to that low, teasing rumble. “Didn’t know I still had that effect.”
My cheeks heated. “Don’t flatter yourself.” I was thankful he decided to change the mood, even though it got me all flustered.
“Too late,” he murmured, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Already flattered.”
I rolled my eyes, but the smile slipped out anyway. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously charming,” he corrected, grinning now. “Admit it.”
“Pass.”
He laughed under his breath—that quiet, warm sound that had always felt like it was just for me. “Alright, I’m grabbing a drink. Be right back.”
I lifted a brow as he started toward the refrigerated case. “Thanks for not cross-examining me!” I called after him.
He glanced back over his shoulder, smirk in place. “You’ll end up telling me everything eventually. We both know it.”
“You think so?”
“Absolutely. I’d rather make you smile than make you mad,” he shot back. “Pushing for answers never works anyway.”
I laughed despite myself, soft and surprised. “Yeah. It’s not the best tactic.”
He grabbed a bottle of iced tea, walked back slowly—like he was giving me time to notice the way his shirt pulled across his shoulders—and slid it across the counter. His fingers brushed mine on purpose when I took it, lingering just long enough to send a little spark up my arm.
“What’s happening? You’re enjoying this,” I said, trying to sound accusing but mostly just breathless.
“Little bit,” he admitted, leaning in again so his voice was private, meant only for me. “You’re cute when you’re flustered. Always have been.”
My heart did a stupid, happy bass drum beat. “I’m not flustered.”
“Sure you’re not.” His grin turned downright wicked for half a second before softening. “Your cheeks say otherwise, though. Red.”
I swatted lightly at his arm. “Shut up.”
He caught my wrist gently, thumb brushing the inside where my pulse was racing, and held it there for a beat without pushing. “Make me.”
I met his eyes, the air between us suddenly thick and sweet. “Careful, Levi. I might try.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth for the briefest second, then back up, dark and warm. “I’m counting on it.”
He let go slowly, fingers trailing off like he didn’t really want to. “Text me if you need anything,” he said, voice low again. “I’m being serious.”
“Even at work?”
“Especially at work.” He backed toward the door, eyes still locked on mine. “I like knowing how you are.”
I snorted, but it came out shaky. “That sounded way more intense than you meant it to.”
“Did it?” He grinned, all boyish mischief and something deeper underneath. “Guess I’ll work on my phrasing.”
The bell chimed behind him as he stepped out, but his gaze lingered through the glass for a second longer, warm and knowing, before he turned away.
I stood there, hand still tingling where he’d touched it, cheeks burning, heart doing cartwheels. I marveled at how easily he did that—how he walked in, joked around, made me laugh, and somehow lowered the volume on my brain without even trying.
I shook my head and turned back to the register, forcing myself to focus on normal things—inventory numbers, the hum of the coolers, the faint smell of coffee that never quite went away.
This was my life now. Fluorescent lights.
Predictable hours. A place I could show up and be useful without explaining myself.
I could handle this.
I was handling it.
A moment later, my phone buzzed on the counter—Matt’s name lighting up the screen.
Matt: You alive?
I sighed, unlocking it.
Me: Allegedly.
Matt: You sleeping?
I glanced up at the bright lights, the windows, the quiet afternoon stretching ahead as I considered having a T-shirt made that said: No, I am not sleeping.
Me: Fine. Working. Employed. Thriving.
Three dots appeared.
Matt: If you want to crash at my place for a bit, the door’s open.
I closed my eyes. He offered to let me crash with him every time we talked.
Me: I’m okay where I am.
Another pause.
Matt: Just saying. The offer stands. I mean it.
I stared at the message for a second before typing back.
Me: I know, and I appreciate it. Love you.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket and exhaled slowly, letting the familiar sounds of the store fill the space again. The hum of the coolers. The soft whir of the coffee machine. The bell chimed as another customer wandered in, oblivious and ordinary.
I rang them up, smiled when I was supposed to, and made change with steady hands.
From the outside, everything looked fine.
But even as the afternoon wore on, I kept catching myself glancing toward the windows, toward the door, toward the corner of the ceiling where the security camera blinked its steady red light. Not because I expected something to happen—but because I didn’t trust how quiet it all felt.
I should talk to Matt. I knew I should. Tell him about the red light, the podcast comment, and the weird vibes from the guy who was here earlier today.
He’d listen. He wouldn’t tease me. He’d probably drive over right now, badge or no badge, and sit in the parking lot until closing just to make sure I was okay.
That was the problem. He’d always taken care of me. Our parents weren’t the best, and he was always there for me. It wasn’t fair to him.
Matt was the classic big brother. Overprotective didn’t even begin to cover it.
He’d always been the one who checked the locks twice, who walked me to my car after dark, who once threatened to arrest a guy for looking at me wrong.
If I told him everything, he’d go into full cop-brother mode—questions, surveillance, probably a patrol car parked outside my trailer every night.
He’d mean well. He always did. But I’d feel like a kid again, like I couldn’t handle my own life, like I needed rescuing. And he deserved to be free.
And right now, more than anything, I needed to prove I could stand on my own. Even if standing felt shaky. Even if the quiet made my skin crawl.
Levi’s presence still lingered, warm and comforting. The memory of his fingers brushing mine, the way he’d said “I’m here” like it was the simplest truth in the world. The faint warmth of his cheek when I’d kissed him still burned on my lips.
I told myself I was safe. I told myself this was just nerves, just exhaustion, just my life settling into a new normal.
When my shift finally ended, and I locked the door behind me, the bell silent for the night, I paused for a moment on the sidewalk, keys in hand.
Nothing had happened today.
Nothing at all.
But Levi’s quiet “I’m here” still echoed somewhere soft inside me. Matt’s text sat in my pocket—a reminder I wasn’t as alone as I sometimes felt.
I took a breath, squared my shoulders, and walked to my car.
The night air was cool, the streetlights soft.
And for the first time in days, the quiet didn’t feel quite so lonely.
Because somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew if I needed him—if the shadows ever got too much for me to handle—he’d be there.