Chapter 20 #3
I picked up my phone and called, and he answered on the third ring. “What’s wrong?”
The question caught me off guard. It wasn’t a hello or nothing. What’s wrong? I thought before clearing my throat. “Nothing.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I tucked the phone between my shoulder and ear while checking the timer. “I have another payment ready.”
There was a short pause before he replied. “How much?”
“Three thousand.” I informed.
“I’ll come get it.”
I didn’t want him to keep inconveniencing himself, so I didn’t mind dropping it wherever it needed to be dropped. “I can bring it.”
“I said I’ll come get it.”
There was no point arguing. “Okay.”
He simply ended the call, and I went back to work.
Nearly forty minutes later, a knock was at the back door.
I wiped my hands on a dish towel, leaving pale streaks of flour across the fabric, and opened it to find Lev standing in the hallway looking good as hell per usual.
He had a fresh haircut and was wearing a wife beater showing his physique and tattoos.
He had that smell too like he was fresh out of the barber chair.
He had looked at me plenty of times, but something had changed in the way he looked at me.
Before, his stare had always felt like an assessment, as if he were trying to decide whether I was lying, running, or worth the trouble.
Now there was something different behind it and now it was me constantly trying to assess him.
My pulse picked up, and I stepped aside before he could notice. “Come in, I’m in the middle of baking.”
He entered, taking in the apartment as I closed the door behind him. My music played softly from the speaker near the kitchen, with Summer Walker’s beautiful voice and the air smelled like browned butter, and the strawberry filling cooling in a saucepan on the stove.
I went back to the counter and reached for the mixer. “Give me one second. If I stop this too long, the frosting’s going to get all weird.”
Lev leaned against the edge of the island, watching as I added powdered sugar in small amounts and scraped the sides of the bowl between each one. His attention followed every movement, from the trays lined across the counter to the labels I had already printed and stacked near the boxes.
“How many orders is this?” he asked.
“Twelve.” I replied like it was nothing.
He glanced around the kitchen. “You don’t get tired, whipping them cakes look like whipping dope.”
“I’ll stop when I finish paying you.”
“That the only reason?”
I slowed the mixer and looked at him. “No, I actually like this.”
He nodded, with his eyes moving over the neat rows of supplies. The look on his face wasn’t pity and definitely not judgment. It was the expression of a man recognizing hustle because he knew what it looked like.
I turned off the mixer, wiped my hands again, and pulled the cash from the binder.
The stack felt lighter than the last one, although the number was the same.
Maybe because handing him money no longer felt like surrendering something.
Every payment brought me closer to being free of the debt and everything attached to it.
I held the three thousand out to him. “Here you go.”
He took it without a word while I reached for the little receipt book lying beside the order forms, flipped to the next page, and carefully wrote the date, payment amount, and remaining balance.
Lev watched the pen move across the paper, with that faint amusement returning to his eyes before I even tore off the receipt.
I handed it over with a small smile. “Twenty-five thousand now, almost halfway,” I added.
He looked at the slip, then at me. “You proud of yourself?”
“A little.” I capped the pen and tucked it into the spiral. “You should be too. Not everybody gets handwritten receipts with this level of detail.”
His mouth broke into something but not enough to call a smile, although it was close.
“Keep baking Navy.”
The way he said my name sent a warmth through me that had nothing to do with the oven. It shot right in between my thighs. He slid the receipt into his pocket with the money and headed toward the door. I followed, stopping a few feet behind him while he reached for the knob.
“Lev.”
He turned around and for a second, I forgot why I had called his name. There was too much sitting between us now especially him answering my call expecting something to be wrong.
I forced my mind back toward safer ground. “Thank you for coming to get it.”
His gazed at me for a few seconds before he said, “Lock the door.”
Then he stepped into the hallway while I watched until he disappeared around the corner before closing the door and sliding the lock into place.
For the next few minutes, I stood there with my hand resting against it, allowing thoughts I had no business entertaining to crowd my mind.
Then the timer sounded from the kitchen.
I pushed away from the door and returned to the cakes.
Whatever was happening between Lev and me would have to wait.
I still had twenty-five thousand dollars, twelve orders, a hospital shift, a divorce, and one unstable husband standing between me and anything that looked remotely like peace.
Falling for a man especially one I should have stayed far away from wasn’t on the schedule.
The problem was that my heart had never been good at checking my calendar.