Chapter 7
LEVI
CHAPTER SEVEN
Harper had been here for a handful of hours, and already my apartment looked like the inside of a goddamn Sephora. Various bottles, hair ties and clips, glass jars full of who the hell knew what, and two different-sized curling irons were scattered across my bathroom counter. But that wasn’t the worst part.
Clutter, I could handle. What I couldn’t was the scent that now hung like a lingering mist in my previously safe space. It wasn’t a secret that women smelled better than men. That was just a fact—one Addison had reminded my brothers and me of hundreds of times. But even knowing that, I hadn’t been prepared for my apartment to smell like Harper.
I also hadn’t been prepared for my cock to harden because of it.
From the second I’d walked in here to brush my teeth, the fucker had perked up at that very first inhalation and hadn’t yet deflated. Which was really fucking inconvenient since I had to leave this room at some point and walk through my—now shared—hallway to get to my bedroom. All while wearing a flimsy pair of sweatpants as my cock tried valiantly to bust through its cotton prison.
I braced my hands on the counter and hung my head, my gaze pinging over the evidence that proved Harper was living here. With me. That the fiasco this afternoon hadn’t all been just some awful dream. That Mabel had conned me when I’d signed this lease years ago, and I was now stuck with my ex in close quarters for weeks.
Stuck with the one woman I’d been trying to get over for more than a decade.
But that was a problem I could face tomorrow. It was late, and I was fucking exhausted after spending all day at the rink. I just wanted to go to sleep and forget this day ever happened. The trek from the bathroom to my bedroom was six steps, and the chances of running into Harper during those five seconds were slim to none.
Mind set, I opened the door and stepped into the hallway, just as a soft, lush body crashed into mine. Harper yelped, her hand flying to her chest as our bodies collided. Without even registering what I was doing, I reached out to steady her, gripping her waist before I could think better of it.
And I really fucking should have thought better of it.
Because if smelling her caused my cock to harden, it had nothing on the feel of her under my hands. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t skin on skin. It also didn’t matter that she appeared to be using clothing as armor, wearing a T-shirt and too-long sweatpants, plus a hoodie, despite the fact that it was July. Even through those layers, I could still feel the softness of her body beneath, the dip of her waist and the tantalizing curve of those generous hips…
I dropped my hands like her skin was on fire. I should’ve turned around immediately and kept walking. Headed straight into my bedroom without looking back and definitely without saying a word. Instead, I glanced at what she was wearing and asked, “You go to bed like that?”
Her shock at the literal run-in was gone in an instant as she narrowed her eyes at me. Then slowly, deliberately, she allowed her gaze to skate down me from head to toe. Tracing over my bare chest, briefly cataloging the tattoos I’d had inked on me in the years we’d been apart, before slipping over my abs and lower still. Her attention stuttered on the one thing I’d been trying to keep under wraps, for all the good it had done me. Especially when the fucker was all too excited at her attention.
Her brow twitched when her gaze landed on my cock. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to mine, her head canted to the side. “You go to bed like that?”
Her words hung in the air between us, her meaning clear as day. Then, without another word, she stepped around me and headed for her bedroom. After opening her door, she glanced at me over her shoulder. The corner of her lips twitched as she allowed herself another glimpse at the very obvious bulge in my pants. “Hope you have the night you deserve.”
Deprivation wasn’t new to me. It was something I’d excelled at for years. For a hundred different reasons, my needs had been something I’d largely ignored. And I’d been able to with little difficulty.
But in all the years I’d been depriving myself of pleasure, I’d never had to lie in bed and listen to the sounds of the one woman who’d starred in all my fantasies shifting a wall away. I’d never particularly considered the walls within my apartment to be thin, but then again, I’d never had a reason to.
Now, though, as I lay in my bed, staring up at the ceiling cloaked in darkness, I could hear Harper. Every tiny sound stoked my imagination, the embers smoldering, and if I weren’t careful, they’d spark into an inferno.
The soft shuffle of her footsteps across the hardwood floor. The slide of a drawer opening. The rustle of material—her bed or her clothes, I wasn’t sure, but both fucked with my mind in equal measures.
Then came the squeak of her bed frame, and all my restraint was a lost cause.
I could picture her there, shedding all her layers until she was left in just a T-shirt. Or maybe she’d strip down to a tank top and panties. Maybe she slept completely naked, the sheets pooled around her, her gorgeous body on full display.
“Fuck me,” I muttered.
Swallowing hard, I forced myself to shove those thoughts aside and ignore the dozens of possibilities my mind was all too happy to conjure up. It didn’t matter. I couldn’t let it. I’d spent more than a decade reminding myself Harper was better off without me, and that hadn’t changed.
Lying on the other side of a wall from her was pure torture, made worse by the fact that this was only the beginning. We had weeks in front of us, and every night would be more of the same.
Sleep felt like an impossibility, because how the hell was I supposed to relax when my thoughts were consumed by the one woman I’d never been able to forget?
Shoving off the covers, I sat up and scrubbed a hand down my face. I needed a distraction, something to take my mind off the fantasies currently playing on a loop in my mind, because I was seconds from doing something stupid. Like knocking on her door and begging her to put me out of my misery.
I tugged on my sweatpants and a T-shirt before slipping out of my room. My workshop, at least, would be free from her—her sounds and her scent and her presence.
I headed for the front door as my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen.
Chase:
How’s the first night in cohabitation going?
Levi:
Well, she still hates me, so I have that going for me.
Chase:
Did you ever think that you could just come clean to her? Tell her the real reason you broke up with her? I mean, she’s an adult now. I think it’s probably safe.
I nearly laughed out loud at that. Safe for who? It wouldn’t be safe for her, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be safe for me. The truth was, I couldn’t go down that path with her again, couldn’t have her soften toward me at all. Walking away from her once had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life.
I wasn’t strong enough to do it again.
I pocketed my phone and glanced down the hallway toward her closed bedroom door. Then, without second-guessing it, I walked out of the apartment, escaping to the only place I had left.