Chapter 15
LEVI
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I stood stock-still in the kitchen, gripping the edge of the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. Harper sat in my living room, making herself at home as she scrolled through the options on TV, ignoring me as best she could. Eventually, she settled on a teen drama Addison had been begging me to watch for months and curled up with the open chip bag in her lap, looking more at ease than I’d seen her since she arrived.
Half of me was tempted to follow after her, push her buttons a little bit more, because witnessing that fire in her eyes got my dick hard. The other half knew it was a bad idea all around, and it would be best if I retreated to my room. Reinforced those walls I’d gotten really fucking good at using as a shield, especially when it came to her.
So, of course, because I was a fucking idiot, I pretended to get lost in the show.
But really, I was lost in her.
I couldn’t tear my eyes away, finally allowing myself to study her without restraint. Her hair was piled on top of her head in a messy knot, and that only accentuated the long line of her neck and her mostly bare shoulders, save for tiny straps I could bite straight through if given the chance.
I watched, transfixed, as she popped a chip into her mouth while absent-mindedly pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. It was a familiar gesture I’d seen her do a thousand times before, and it made me ache for what we used to have. For what we’d never have again.
Though more than a decade had passed since we’d been together and she’d changed by leaps and bounds, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. And my gut twisted at the realization that she’d never truly be mine again.
Against my better judgment, I abandoned my spot in the kitchen and wandered toward her, hovering on the other side of the breakfast bar before shifting to stand behind the couch. Still, she didn’t look my way, her attention focused on the show playing on-screen. Before I could stop myself or second-guess what I was doing, I sank down next to her on the couch, having no choice since she’d taken the middle cushion.
She didn’t say a word, though, from the tiny furrow between her brows, I knew she was aware of my presence. I relaxed back against the cushions, our bare shoulders brushing as I did so, and I could’ve sworn I heard her breath hitch.
This was a bad fucking idea. Especially when, thanks to this languid feeling spreading through my body, I was about ninety-nine percent sure we were high. Mabel had laced our cookies and then run off to let us deal with the fallout like the conniving old bat she was.
I hadn’t been high in ten years—for the same reason I didn’t allow myself to get well and truly drunk anymore. I didn’t deserve the reprieve. Didn’t deserve to escape my thoughts…to not be weighed down by the grief that was like an anchor around my neck. But I couldn’t go back in time and not eat those cookies, so there was nothing to be done about this than to ride it out.
Halfway through the first episode of this show that wasn’t half bad, I reached over and grabbed a handful of chips. Then I shot her a look out of the corner of my eye, wondering how she was going to take the news. “You know we’re high, right?”
She snapped her head in my direction, all pretense of her ignoring me long gone. Her eyes were wide as she stared at me openmouthed. “We’re what?”
“High as fuck,” I confirmed with a nod. “The cookies were laced.”
“Oh my God.” She exhaled sharply, sinking even farther into the couch. “Oh my God.”
“Yep.”
“I’ve never been high before.” She glanced over at me, her brows raised. “What do we do now?”
I could think of a hundred things I wanted to do. Lean over and kiss her again, for one. Brush my fingers along all that bare skin, see if it was as soft as it looked. As soft as I remembered. I wanted to drop to my knees, spread her legs wide, and feast on her cunt until she screamed my name. Wanted to sink so deep inside her there was no longer her and me. There was only us.
Instead, I shoved those thoughts aside and shrugged. “Watch some mindless TV and eat whatever shit we can find until the high wears off.”
Somehow, when we hadn’t been rummaging through the kitchen for whatever else we could find to eat, we’d shifted positions. Sinking deeper and deeper into the couch, and subsequently melting closer and closer together. As if no time at all had passed since we’d been together. As if doing so was as natural as breathing.
And now, my head was in Harper’s lap, her fingers tangled in my hair, and my hand was curled around her bare thigh. Like that was exactly how we were supposed to be.
We were on episode three of One Tree Hill, and we hadn’t yet killed each other. Hadn’t succumbed to an explosive make-out session, either, which I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or frustrated about.
Every once in a while, she’d giggle at something on the show, letting out a little snort as she did so. And the sound was so familiar, an ache set up residence in my chest, a painful reminder of what we’d once had.
“So, have you always been addicted to teen dramedies, or is this a new affliction?”
I snorted and shook my head. “If I tell you that, you’re sworn to secrecy.”
She leaned forward, bringing her face closer to mine, her features upside down from where I was lying. Her scent enveloped me, and I wanted to stay here forever. Wanted to be with her for whatever bit of this life I had left.
“Who am I going to tell?” she asked, brow raised.
“That’s not a promise.”
“Fine.” She rolled her eyes. “I promise.”
I breathed out a heavy sigh and grumbled, “It’s all Addison’s fault. The little demon got me hooked on Vampire Diaries.”
Harper let out a bark of laughter before falling into a fit of giggles, tipping sideways until she was draped over me. Her giggles were a sound I hadn’t heard from her in more than a decade. I couldn’t stop the answering smile from sweeping across my mouth as she laughed until she was gasping, tears streaming down her face.
After long moments, she let out a few soft chuckles and settled back into the couch. Then she ran her fingers through my hair, admitting softly, “I missed hanging out with you like this.”
I knew it was just the high talking. Never in a million years would she have said that otherwise. But I wanted to pretend that wasn’t it. Pretend everything was fine and this was normal. This was just our life.
This could have been our life.
“Do you remember the night we snuck into Old Man Davey’s orchard?” she asked.
A lazy grin swept over my mouth as I recalled the memory. “I think you probably ate half a dozen peaches before he came storming out of his house. He was so pissed, waving his cane around and shouting about calling the sheriff if we didn’t get the hell off his property.”
“I’ve never run so fast in my life,” Harper said on a laugh. “I would’ve been caught for sure if you hadn’t been there to drag me out behind you.”
“If I hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.”
“True. You always did have a knack for getting me into trouble. But I still owe you thanks for saving my ass that time.”
“You paid it. When I helped you sneak up the trellis outside your bedroom window, you leaned out and kissed me.” I remembered it perfectly, as if it had happened last week instead of nearly fifteen years ago. “I swear, you tasted like peaches. I still can’t eat one without my dick getting hard.”
Harper tightened her fingers in my hair, her lips parting as she stared down at me. Happiness and what looked an awful lot like longing passed in her eyes, but both were gone in a blink. Then, as if the moment had never happened, she cleared her throat and averted her attention back to the TV. “I’m not the same person I was back then. I want you to know that. You had a hold over me when we were younger, and you crushed me when you broke things off. But I haven’t given anyone that kind of power since. And I have no intention of starting now.”
As another episode started, Harper’s words settled over me, a stark reminder of exactly what I’d done to her. Exactly how my choices had shaped her into the person she was today—a person I didn’t even know. A person I didn’t deserve to know. Not after the things I’d done.