Thirty-Four
Levin
B ianca crossed her legs as she sat down on my bed three days after she’d disappeared on Vincent. I’d listened to Vincent read her the riot act after he’d found her. Much to his credit, he’d called me instead of Dom. I assumed he just didn’t want to fuck up anything.
I wasn’t surprised it had only been a few hours before Bianca had gone back on her word. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind she’d run off to meet with her mystery guy.
Knowing that only pissed me off.
“Are we going to watch a movie?” She looked up at me, a hopeful expression on her face. I fucking hated how innocent she always looked even when I knew her sexy ass was plotting something that would piss us off.
“No,” I grunted, leaning against my dresser. I hated that she was in my room. My place was big, but it felt tiny whenever she was there. Like I couldn’t breathe. Like I couldn’t get far enough away from her penetrating stare.
She frowned. “What the hell are we going to do all night? Dom said you had to keep me company tonight, and since you didn’t want to be in my room. . .” Her voice trailed off for a minute. “You can’t lean against your dresser all night.”
I can, and I will.
She rolled her eyes and pushed her shoes off before getting to her feet and padding over to her backpack.
Hungrily, I watched as she bent over in her tiny uniform skirt and rifled around before she straightened up with two bags of unpopped popcorn in her hands.
Wordlessly, she stuck them inside my microwave.
Night had fallen not too long ago, and Dom and Vincent had run out to take care of something for Dom’s dad.
They weren’t on campus, leaving the babysitting to me, despite me pleading to trade spots with Vincent and go do whatever Dom’s dad needed.
Hell, I’d rather be ripping heads off people right then than be stuck in my room with Bianca.
My stomach gave a soft gurgle as the smell of buttery popcorn filled the air. Bianca rummaged around in my apartment-sized fridge for a moment before pulling out a small bottle of apple juice and raising her brows.
I grunted but said nothing.
I’d noticed her drinking apple juice lately at lunch. I didn’t know what had possessed me to pick some up out of the vending machines earlier, but I had, and now she was looking at me like I’d saved her damn life.
When she didn’t comment on it, I let out a breath of relief and shifted my weight, already irritated that I’d been backed into a corner in my own room.
This was my safe place. My sanctuary. It was the only damn place I could really relax.
Bringing Bianca back here had been a terrible idea.
I should’ve just leaned against the wall outside her dorm while I waited for Dom and Vincent to get back.
She sauntered over to the shelf where I had my record collection.
“These weren’t here all the times I cleaned your room. I didn’t know you liked music.” She brushed her fingers along the sleeves and bit her bottom lip as she paused to read the titles. A tiny smile cut her full lips upward, making me fidget.
I shrugged. “They were in a box in my closet. I just unpacked them a couple days ago.”
“My dad loved this album,” she said, pulling out my Rolling Stones Aftermath album. “One of my favorite songs is on here.”
“Which?” I asked, watching as she pulled the record out and put it in the player.
She looked at me over her shoulder and gave me a tiny smile as “Paint it Black” started playing.
I was mesmerized by her hips swaying to the music.
She hummed along with it. I took in each hip swing, my throat aching as I tried to remain calm.
I had no idea what was coming over me, but I didn’t like it.
The microwave dinged, and she sashayed over to it and removed the freshly popped corn and dumped it into a large bowl on the counter. Sexily, she moved back to the record player and turned it off before perching on the edge of my bed, the bowl of popcorn in her lap.
I clenched my jaw as she ate a few fluffy, buttery pieces, her eyes on me.
“Can we watch a movie? It’ll be a long night if we’re just going to sit here and stare at one another.”
“I don’t care. Do what you want.” I turned away from her and focused my gaze out my window to the campus grounds. I hadn’t even realized she’d moved until she was standing in front of me, peering up at me with that innocent look she wore so well.
She reached out for me and took my hand, her small one trembling as her palm slid along mine.
“I don’t want you to stand there all night. Come on. It’s your room. Sit on your bed. I’ll sit on the floor if you want.”
I hadn't even realized I was following her until I was sitting on my mattress. She released my hand and handed me the remote before she took off her navy-blue cardigan and spread it on the floor for her to sit on.
Before she could drop down on it, I reached out and snagged her by the wrist, not sure what the hell I was doing or why I was doing it.
“Don’t sit on the floor. You can sit with me.”
Her eyes widened as I pulled her to the edge of the bed. She sank down beside me. We both fidgeted awkwardly for a moment. I felt like I was thirteen again with a girl in my bedroom the first time.
I was just about to tell her she could just go back to her room, and I’d stand outside, when she grabbed her bowl of popcorn and slid back, nestling into my pillows. Never had a girl been so bold with me. She crossed her long legs at the ankle and started nibbling on her snack.
“We can watch whatever you want,” she said, munching away. “I’d love to see your favorite movie.”
I rubbed my thumb along the remote for a moment before I turned it on and kicked off my shoes, loosened my tie, and tossed my blazer in a chair. It slid off and landed in a navy puddle on the floor but fuck it. She let out a soft giggle, the sound making my heart race.
A moment later, the opening credits of Die Hard popped on the screen. I cast her a glance out of the corner of my eye to see how she’d react to it. I was met with a vision of her blue eyes locked on the TV and her mouth full of popcorn as she watched, totally engrossed.
Satisfied she wasn’t going to be one of those girls who bitched about an action flick, I contemplated moving back to the dresser but then glanced at her again and noted she didn’t have her apple juice.
Some fucked up part of my mind wanted her to have it, so I got up to grab a beer for me and her juice.
She peeked up at me as I handed her the juice.
“Thanks.” A tiny, sweet smile lifted her plump lips up as she took it from me. “You can sit next to me. We can share the popcorn.”
I stared down at all the buttery goodness as my guts rumbled softly again.
Hell with it. It was just popcorn and a movie.
I flopped down beside her and grabbed a fistful to stuff in my mouth, my eyes on the TV, but my body acutely aware of her how close she was to me as she sipped her juice. Aware of how her body heated mine. Of her lavender scent. Mindful of the way she shifted a little closer to me.
Fucking stop, Levin. She’s the enemy. Can’t be trusted. Don’t get your dick in a twist just because she looks all sweet and innocent beside you. D’Angelou. She’s a D’Angelou.
I grabbed more popcorn and chewed furiously as my boy Bruce came on the screen. My hand brushed against hers when I went back in for more. She paused for a moment as I instinctively brushed her fingers again.
Shit, what am I doing?
I yanked my hand back, empty, slurping down my beer and crunching the can before tossing it into the trash can from my bed.
“Nice shot,” she said, sitting up.
A smile teased my lips as she tried to hit the basket with a piece of popcorn.
“It works better when you’re buzzed,” I said.
She whipped her head around and stared at me. “I’ve only been high once. You were there, remember?”
“I try not to,” I muttered, my smile slipping away as I reached over and opened the drawer of my bedside table and pulled out a joint. That was the night she’d met up with her mystery guy and let him fuck her. It wasn’t a thought I wanted in my head.
“Why? You got a night off from watching me.” She settled deeper into my pillows.
“Watch the movie,” I grunted, lighting the joint and taking a deep hit, relishing the burn in my chest and the fuzzies that slipped through my body like warm liquid.
“You never talk to me.”
“I don’t have anything to say.” Another hit. Fuck, that’s good shit.
“I don’t know anything about you, Levin.”
“I thought we were going to watch a movie.” I kept my eyes on the screen.
“Yeah, but we’re alone and everything. We can still talk.”
I got up to get my six pack and brought it to my nightstand. Sighing, I sank back into my spot beside her, joint still in hand.
“Where are you from?”
I hit pause on the movie. Fuck. We were doing this.
“Germany. We came here when I was five.”
“Do you speak German?”
“ Ja ,” I answered. “We speak it in my home. Or at least we used to until my mom died.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, staring at me with her brows crinkled. “What happened?”
I took a hit from the joint and cracked open another beer. I wasn’t sober enough for this shit. “My old man had her killed. Or he killed her. Who the fuck knows.”
Her eyes widened in horror. “Your dad. . . murdered your mom?”
I nodded, an ache in my chest as I blew out the smoke. “My brother, Stefan, was murdered too. It’s just me and my old man now.”
“Levin, I-I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not your shit.” I took a swig of my beer.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s mine or not. It’s still horrible.”