7. Bay
SEVEN
bay
I hate house music.
And that’s all this club is playing as Levi drags me along with him through the thick throng of people drinking and dancing.
The purple neons hue the ambiance of the large space, but it doesn’t lift my mood. Levi has barely spoken to me since we had our conversation in the garage and tonight is our one out as being a fake couple.
It’s both insulting, in a way, and more depressing than if he had just stayed mad at me. I can’t shake off the feeling that he’s using me for, not only his gain, but South Shore’s.
It’s what I should want.
What I do want.
But it’s the way everything came about—through a fight and my betrayal of not coming clean—that makes me feel inadequate to be Levi’s girlfriend.
My bad, fake girlfriend.
He’s selling tonight, but he knows the boys are going to be here. It’s for a birthday party of someone, but I didn’t listen to the rest of the details.
The average time for a container ship to make it to Mexico is two to six weeks. That’s all my brain has been able to focus on. I thought it’d be a couple of fucking days, and now I’ve been thinking about food, water, and if Reeve is yelling for help. That he’s stuck between metal containers that the crew would have to maneuver around to get him out.
If they hear him.
The last three days have been a slow torture. Each one that passes by is a reminder that I didn’t save him. That I haven’t reached out to Torin or Cairo in any way, shape, or form to somehow get to him.
I still want to be loyal to Levi.
But at what cost?
I’ll have to spend the rest of my life knowing that I’m just as guilty as my best friend with his death. Because, even if he does live, his chances of making it back home are slim to none with zero cash and contacts.
Tack on that I’ve been Googling shit that only makes everything worse and you have me.
He’s not dead.
He won’t die.
He just can’t.
“What do you want to drink?” Levi’s voice drapes over me like a protective blanket. It tries to conceal the truth and what he’s done but, in my chest, I can still feel Reeve.
He’d never give up.
He’s too good to die.
“Jack Daniels,” I deadpan, staring at two blondes who are dancing together and having the time of their lives. They both have on sequined-covered dresses that make them sparkle and shine through the random flashes of strobe lights and underneath the purple glow.
Levi steps out in front of me then, a solid black shirt stretching over his hard torso and chest while forcing me to acknowledge him.
I don’t.
We never really did conclude what happened between us and it still lingers in the air like it never left or got slaughtered.
“That’s a little much, don’t ya think?”
My scowl is immediately painted on my face as I peer up at him, meeting those light green eyes. “No.”
“You’re upset.” I increase the intensity of my irritation and a glint of a smirk plays along his lips as if this is funny. “C’mon, Astor. You’re going to be mad at your boyfriend on our first night out?”
“You’re not my boyfriend ,” I clip out. The demand for what we were going to be wasn’t cute at all. “And, if you were, I wouldn’t have gone out with you tonight since we still haven’t finished our talk .”
“You mean the one where you kept all the Emilio Wildes shit from me?”
That’s like the millionth punch to the gut that Levi has served up to me over the course of the week. And I’m over it.
“You done?” I mock, using the same verbiage he used toward me the other day.
Levi reaches for my hand and then slowly drags me toward him so that we’re almost chest to chest. “Depends.”
“ On ?”
“How good of an actress you can be for this ploy we’re performing. Because Torin is about fifty yards away and he’s already spotted us.”
My blood pumps quicker in my veins off a small surge of adrenaline that just formed. I’m not ready to play this role. Not when self-disgust swells in my chest like a plague.
“I’ll get you that Jack,” Levi emits. “Sounds like you’re gonna need it.”
I can’t help but resonate as though Levi feels rejected, but this isn’t real. However, I’m sure it takes a hit to his male ego that I’m not jumping his dick.
Throw me back a few years and maybe. But too much is happening right now and my head is filled with non-romantic shit.
My phone buzzes in the small clutch that I borrowed—stole and never gave back—from Nessa and the whole function of my body stops.
Breathing.
Blinking.
Blood pumping.
Heart bumping.
Everything.
Literally EVERYTHING.
REEVE: I need one of those hugs that turn into sex.
It sounds like him.
But I know damn well that Levi wouldn’t have left Reeve his phone to call for help. And I’m starting to wonder if this is a trick.
BAY: Who is this?
REEVE: You know who it is, McQueen. He’s gonna have to try harder than that.
The cryptic message sends a warning shrill through my spine, and I shiver on impact. This could be Hot Rod or Juice helping Levi with seeing how loyal I am. To see how much I care about him and if I’d try to meet with him just to make sure he’s okay. The nickname would’ve been easy to find through previous messages that he sent to me and I’m not that stupid.
Nor am I going to fall for this.
He’s gone.
That’s what Travis said. The container ship had already left port, and Travis banged on shipping containers for an hour, he said.
Reeve was nowhere in sight.
Shoving my cell back into my purse, I feel nauseous. My stomach knots tightly into little balls of anxiety right before Levi shows back up in front of me with a shot of Jack.
I immediately take it and lift it back, welcoming the burn down my throat as my face scrunches up from the intensity of it.
Levi plunks the glass from my fingers and replaced it with a frozen pink drink. “Bartender says these are a hit around here.”
I take a sip, jugging it down, and say fuck it to any brain freeze that might sink in very soon after, when “A Groovy Kind of Love” by Phil Collins begins to transition from the current house music right into the slow song.
There’s absolutely no way that Juice, Hot Rod, or Levi would know the significance of that song.
The one that Reeve asked me to slow dance to in one of my neighbor’s tree houses the night he told me of his father. When he came to South Shore alone just to see me.
It’s Reeve.
It has to be. There’s no other way he’d be able to prove it without coming out here physically and showing me. It’s so like him to do something like this and the weight off my chest instantly falls to the wayside.
I have to see him.
And, after that, we’ll need to keep our distance because of Levi, but he’s alive and that’s all that matters.
“Why are you smiling?”
Shit.
Removing my lips from the straw, I give him as sweet of a smile as I can manage.
More like a petty one.
Bestie didn’t win this round, and he doesn’t even know about it. And I shouldn’t gloat, but I am.
“You’d smile too if you’d taste this drink,” I reply, earning a perked and suspicious brow from Levi, as if a drink wouldn’t bring me that much happiness.
It would if he only knew.
Lifting my drink to his mouth, Levi doesn’t break eye contact with me when his full lips wrap around the black straw, and takes a sip. Since my mood has changed, so has this moment. I take in the dark stumble along Levi’s jawline and the sculpted edges of his cheekbones.
If I was his girlfriend, and he didn’t just try to slowly kill Reeve, he’d have no problem dragging me out of the house to do this with him tonight.
In fact, the idea sounds more delicious than what he’s intending on it to become.
Chill, Bay.
Seriously.
“What’s so special about it?” Levi asks when he’s done, and I roll my eyes, because if it’s not tequila, ol’ boy doesn’t want any part of it.
“Only you, Lev,” I deadpan, shaking my head at him before he takes a step forward and one of his large palms falls directly to my hip.
It burns my flesh there, and I immediately forget about my drink. I can smell the sea water and mint off the first hint of his cologne that mellows out into sandalwood and tobacco. I love when Levi wears this cologne for some reason. Maybe it’s because it’s so nostalgic for me. That it’s him and no one else.
“I don’t want to make this weird for you, but I need you to pretend to kiss me.”
Pretend?
I flex my face at him because that’s not going to do it for Torin Wildes, for one. If he’s watching us like a hawk right now and has probably evaluated every angle of how we’re standing and acting. “You need to think better.”
“I’m thinking wisely.”
Yeah, I don’t know what that means.
“The longer you stand here with your hand on my hip, the more fake this looks.” And it completely defeats what we’re trying to do here, obviously.
“I wasn’t the one who got the drink.”
“And you need someone to bring you something in order to kiss them?”
He smirks. “Amongst other things.”
Ew.
Especially when he’s probably thinking of all the ways other women have shown their appreciation.
I’m sure it’s been plenty.
And that pisses me off, even though he’s my fake boyfriend. Because I won’t stand for cheating with some other bitch he’s fucking or flirting with in public when we’re fake together.
This is so fucking stupid.
“Then what do you suggest?” Levi solicits when I don’t respond.
I scoff. “Um, I suggest you kiss me like a man.”
“I don’t think so.”
Ouch.
And it’d hurt if I gave a fuck but, then again, Levi is used to messing around with hoes, groupies, and blondes.
I’m none of those things.
Unless you want to count the movie theatre scene with Reeve and Torin, but that’s on them. I didn’t throw myself at their feet and ask them to touch me.
“Suit yourself,” I mutter, rising on my tiptoes to reach his lips.
From the outside, it probably looks like I’m teasing him, and I am. He’s not about to reject me over some silly-ass plan about putting his claim on me and making me work hard for it.
He can kiss my whole ass with that shit.
My lips skim the stubble of his cheek, pressing a soft kiss there before making my way to the corner of his mouth. Cupping his elbow, I plant another one at the crease, feeling the warm exhale Levi releases between his lips.
One small move to my right, and we’ve crossed some sort of line. I don’t know of any guy and girl duos who call themselves best friends and make out without starting some shit, but Levi and I are different. We’re headstrong and our feelings run deep for each other.
One little kiss isn’t going to shatter that.
Inhaling, I clasp his bottom lip with mine and kiss him. Levi doesn’t move an inch, maybe permitting me the space and pace I need to make it comfortable for me, but he’s the only man I’d feel unworried with in the sense that he won’t slaughter me afterward.
My mouth molds with his as Levi slowly follows me. My free hand slithers up the back of his neck and then through his short hair. Our noses brush against each other’s as I continue on, stealing one kiss after another until it’s natural and mind-numbing.
I don’t hear the music anymore.
I just feel how collected my body is while not thinking of who this is and how weird it would be if we really talked it all out.
Mindlessly, my tongue slides between his lips, and the grip on my hip tightens, convincing me to pull away until Levi’s palm cups the back of my head and deepens the kiss.
That’s when everything changes.
When my body isn’t complacent but buzzing with curiosity and rebellion. Levi’s roleplay in this act has sent a surprising surge through my veins and I’m on fire. Something about this feels oddly normal and soothing, but it couldn’t be because of anything else other than Levi being a damn good kisser.
His tongue tangles with mine, and I melt against his hard chest and torso. If Torin doesn’t buy this, I’m not fucking Levi on top of a table to prove we’re dating.
Except that would probably outrank any crazy shit Levi has done with any other girl in his lifetime.
Slowly descending back to my feet, it forces us to break the kiss as I peel my eyes open, just to fall into Levi’s now dark greens that are filled with hunger.
I try to swallow down the lump in my throat and say something, but it’s lodged. Levi’s tongue traipses along his bottom lip, as if tasting me again, and my pussy clenches, goosebumps lining every inch of my flesh.
Now, it’s not normal anymore.
“Do you think you’d be okay handling Wildes alone? I need you to pack this into cement with him.”
I don’t want to see Torin for many reasons.
First and foremost, I can’t move. I’m tightly cocooned in this little ball that Levi just put me in, and I don’t want to leave it. Second, I can only imagine how pissed Torin is going to be. Third, he’s going to start interrogating me on the spot. Fourth, he’s going to try to kiss me, touch me, get me alone in a corner somewhere to remind me of before. Of all the times he stole me away from Matteo and I craved all those things.
“I think we just did,” I finally manage to get out. “And…if we really were dating, you probably wouldn’t let me out of your sight.”
Levi stares at me for a few more seconds before giving me a curt nod. “I wouldn’t.”
Lifting my drink, I silently cheers my best friend and plan to down this thing like I’ve been in the Sahara desert for the last eight days. “Then let’s make some money, dance, and have a good time. When’s the last time we’ve been able to do that?”
Levi gives me a small smile. “Don’t remember.”
“Then it’s been too long.” I reach for his hand and squeeze it, needing some sort of physical contact that persuades me that we’re still okay. “I think we need it.”
My best friend raises our joined hands to his lips and kisses the top of mine softly. “Whatever the Queen of South Shore wants.”