Chapter 22
LEVI
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I had no idea why I dropped everything without thought and headed toward One Night Stan’s after Addison’s last text. Harper wasn’t my responsibility, and she hadn’t been in a long damn time.
But I wasn’t about to leave her drunk ass in the hands of some fucking bartender, regardless if it was one of Stan’s sons. Hell, because he was.
Brady’s empty car was already parked out front, and the rest of my brothers pulled in as I strode across the street. The noise was deafening as soon as we walked through the front door. A quick glance around showed that everyone but Addison was drunk off their asses, just as she’d promised, which meant we had our hands full.
I couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything going on around me, though. Not when Harper’s eyes met mine as soon as I walked in, her entire face lighting up at the sight of me. Smile wide and eyes bright, she looked at me like she used to, before everything had shattered between us. Looked at me like I was the sun and the moon and every single star in the sky. Like I was her everything. And fuck if that wasn’t a sledgehammer straight to my chest, forcing the old forgotten organ to beat again.
I shook the delusional thought from my mind and strode toward her, scanning her from head to toe. She wore a short dress the color of her eyes and sky-high sandals, her mile-long legs on full display. And the sight of her wearing that was only made worse by the fact that I’d seen everything she had underneath it just the other night. I knew how pink her pussy was and the exact shade of her nipples. I knew her belly was soft and round and my fingers would disappear into the lush swell of her hips if I held her tight while I fucked her.
Jesus Christ, this woman was going to kill me without even trying.
“All right, drunkie.” I stood in front of her, doing my best to ignore the dopey smile on her face as she stared up at me. “Let’s get you home.”
“Home, huh?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eyes, and I kicked myself for the slip.
The word had no place between us. Even if it was exactly what we’d dreamed of when we were younger, the two of us sitting on the cliffs under a black sky filled with stars. Talking about shit we had no business discussing so young.
Dreaming of a life. Together.
Funny how things turned out. Sure, we were living under the same roof, like we’d always planned. Except, in our plans, I wasn’t a complete waste of space, I hadn’t fucked things up, and she’d never hated me.
And right now, with the way she was looking at me like she used to, I could pretend she didn’t.
“You didn’t have to come get me. I’m fine on my own.” She moved to stand, wobbled on her shoes, and fell right back into her chair.
“Yeah, looks like,” I said dryly, tugging her up and making sure she was steady on her feet this time.
“I don’t know how you ladies manage to get this wasted every time you get together.” Brady wrapped an arm around a stumbling Luna, glancing around at the rest of the women.
“We’re very dedicated to the cause,” Quinn said with a grin, leaning heavily into Ford.
“And we were drinking extra tonight”—Avery leaned forward, nearly toppling over the table until Aiden wrapped an arm around her waist to catch her—“because Addison’s pregnant. But you didn’t hear that from me.” She mimed zipping her lips and tossing away the key, except she slapped Aiden in the face as she did so.
“Looks to me like you drank about five extra, bunny.” Aiden tugged her upright and headed toward the door, glancing over his shoulder at our sister. “Why’d you let her drink so much, Addison?”
Harper was trying her best to appear unaffected at my side, but I had to reach out and steady her more than once.
“Seriously,” Beck grumbled, leading a droopy-eyed Everly out of the bar. “You couldn’t cut them off a couple pitchers ago?”
“Well, excuse the fuck out of me!” Addison huffed, planting her hands on her hips and shooting a glare at each of us, even those who didn’t say a damn word. “I guess I was preoccupied, what with growing your very first niece or nephew and all. By the way, thanks for the congratulations, you assholes.”
“Congratulations,” all of us said as one, but she just continued giving us the stink eye.
“We’d love nothing more than to give you inescapable bear hugs, but we’re a little preoccupied at the moment. I need to get my extremely drunk wife home.” Ford guided Quinn through the bar. “But don’t think this means you’re getting out of the brother puppy pile, little D! Group congratulations at the next all-family meeting.”
Addison scoffed and rolled her eyes as we all made our way outside into the crisp evening air, my hand hovering at the small of Harper’s back. “Please, you’ll all forget, and I’ll continue on without any sweaty, stinky hugs.”
“Nah.” Aiden shook his head, holding the car door open for Avery. “I’m putting it on the calendar for Saturday.”
“Great,” Addison grumbled.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it,” I said, keeping one eye on Harper. “You okay to drive home?”
“I’m pregnant, not drunk.” Addison rolled her eyes before blowing out a long sigh. “Besides, word got back to Chase, and he’s on his way to pick me up, despite my car being here and despite the fact that I’m perfectly capable of driving myself.”
No sooner had she said the words than Chase’s truck came rumbling down the street, faster than necessary, considering Addison wasn’t going anywhere.
“You love that, too.” I reached out and ruffled her hair. “I’m happy for you guys. Even if you are going to be an absolute fucking menace the next few months.”
“Maybe I’ll keep it up the rest of my life. How about that?”
“So, no different from usual?”
“Oh, fuck off.” She flipped me off, but her words lacked heat.
I waved at Chase as he pulled into a parking spot. “Tell him I’ll call him tomorrow.”
“I will. I’ll let him know you had your hands full.” She smirked, tipping her chin to my right. “Speaking of, she’s escaping…”
I glanced over to find a wandering Harper roaming aimlessly down the street. With a muttered curse, I took off after her. “Hey.” Once I was close enough, I hooked an arm around her waist and tugged her toward me. “Get back here.”
Stumbling into me with a giggle, she rested her hand on my chest to brace herself as she stared up at me. Her expression was so open, so honest, so unguarded, it was like old times. “Whoa. Is the ground moving?”
“Nope, that’s just you.”
“I can fix that.” She stopped in the middle of the damn street, attempting to balance on one foot and remove the neck-breaking, sexy-as-hell sandals she wore. Unfortunately for her, she was drunk, and even standing on solid ground was proving too difficult. She stumbled and let out a giggle, even though she nearly rolled her ankle in the process.
“Jesus Christ,” I grumbled, shooting out my hands to grip her hips and steady her.
Knowing what I was going to have to do to get this woman into our apartment, I heaved out a sigh and tugged off my hoodie. Then I squatted down, brushing her fumbling hands away from the tiny buckles on her ankles, and removed her shoes for her, ignoring the soft satin of her skin against my fingertips.
She rested her hands on my shoulders and breathed out a hum of contentment when first one bare foot then the other met the ground. “This is pretty nice.”
“What’s that?”
“You doing this for me.”
“I have ulterior motives.” I wrapped my hoodie around her waist because she’d definitely be flashing her ass otherwise, and that wasn’t happening. Hooking her shoes on my fingers, I stood, lifting her over my shoulder in the process.
She broke into a fit of laughter as I strode toward the apartment, and then, without warning, she slapped my ass.
I froze in the middle of the sidewalk, tightening my grip around her soft thighs. “Was that necessary?”
“Probably not.”
“At least you admit it.” I climbed the stairs inside our building, all while she was groping my ass and I was reminding myself she never would have done that if she weren’t completely shit-faced.
“You’ve got a really great ass,” she said and gave it another hard smack. “Has anyone ever told you that? Even upside down, it’s spiracular. Um…spitacular. Err…spectacular.”
“Jesus Christ, woman. Exactly how many margaritas did you have?”
“Don’t know. Didn’t count. Maybe twenty-seven?” She sighed, pinching my ass this time. “Better question—how many squats do you have to do to get an ass like this? Two…three thousand a day?”
“I thought you were exaggerating with the twenty-seven drinks, but now, I’m not so sure.”
“Maybe Mabel can make a cookie of your ass because I seriously want to take a bite out of it.” And then, as if she spoke her words into existence, she sank her teeth into my right ass cheek.
I froze with my key halfway toward the lock and glanced over my shoulder. “Did you just bite me?”
“Yes,” she said with a hell of a lot of haughtiness for someone who was currently hanging over my shoulder upside down. “And I’m not sorry about it, either. Been dreaming about this ass for weeks.”
I unlocked and opened the front door, attempting to ignore the fact that she’d been dreaming about me. “Okay, you definitely had twenty-seven margaritas.”
Sober Harper would’ve been mortified at spilling that bit of information, not to mention all the groping. As soon as I was over the threshold, I dropped her shoes by the door and set her down on her feet, reaching out to steady her when she wobbled a little.
“Whoa.” She shot her arms out and gripped my wrists, eyes wide and smile bright. “That was fun. Can I have another ride?”
My mind immediately shot to an entirely different kind of ride she could give me, the sounds of her from the other night still fresh. That soft little whimper as she came. She wouldn’t whimper with me, though. She’d scream.
And that line of thinking absolutely did not belong here, especially right now.
“Nope. Time for you to go to bed,” I said. “And you probably want to take something before you crash, or you’re going to wake up with one hell of a hangover.”
“No, I won’t. Never had a hangover a day in my life.” She pursed her lips, her brow furrowed. “But that’s probably more because I’ve never had friends to go out with. And it’s kinda sad to get drunk by yourself.”
At her admission, something uncomfortable lodged deep in my chest. I’d never allowed myself to think about Harper’s life after I shut her out of mine. Intentionally. I’d been secure in the knowledge that she didn’t have to give up her dreams to stick around for some kid who—as her dad succinctly put it—was a waste of space and who wouldn’t amount to anything. Doing so was the coward’s way out, but I knew if I got curious about her life, I’d go looking. And if I went looking, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going to her.
That was the last thing she’d needed from me. In order for her to get what she’d planned, the life she’d had set for years, I needed to not be in it. Her dad had made that perfectly clear.
“Well, I’ve been drunk plenty,” I said. “And I’m telling you to take some ibuprofen and drink a lot of water or you’re gonna regret it.”
“Fine.” She pursed her lips, one eye squinted shut as she regarded me. “But first, I gotta get out of these clothes. I’m so hot. Why’s it so hot in here?”
Before I could even comprehend her words, she shucked my hoodie, reached for the hem of her dress, and tugged it up, revealing inch after delectable inch of her gorgeous body. I stood there frozen for way longer than I should have, but when Harper Davidson started shedding clothes in front of you, there was nothing you could do but watch.
At least until she got stuck with the garment halfway off. With the dress covering her face and her arms tangled over her head, she stumbled into a wall before letting out a giggle-snort.
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, blowing out a deep sigh and scrubbing a hand over my face. “You couldn’t wait till you got into your room to strip?”
“Why?” She spun toward me. Her arms were still above her head, tangled in her dress, which gave me an unencumbered view of her wearing a pale-purple lace bra and white cotton panties. Objectively speaking, the bottoms were plain. Boring. But the tiny pink bow at the front of them was going to haunt my dreams for the next six months, easy. “You’ve already seen it all before. Just the other night, actually.”
“A fact I am painfully aware of.”
After a nonstop struggle—one in which I was absolutely not going to help—she finally extricated herself from the dress and tossed it on the floor, letting out a hoot of triumph.
“Feel better?” I asked, if for nothing more than to give myself something to do other than stare at every inch of skin she’d revealed.
“Almost.” She turned her back to me, the view of her ass in those panties causing my dick to stir. And then she reached back, unhooked her bra, and tossed it over her shoulder.
I caught it before it smacked me in the face, and I tipped my head back, blowing out a heavy breath. “Fucking hell.”
“You can stop staring at the ceiling,” she said. “I don’t mind if you watch.”
As she’d proven damn well the other night. And there was no realm of reality where I wouldn’t love it, too. I’d deprived myself of a hell of a lot over the years, women included, and I’d gotten really fucking good at it. But having this woman—this nearly naked woman—living in my apartment and enticing me day in and day out was the greatest temptation I’d ever faced.
“Can you handle getting in bed on your own?”
She made a sound of agreement, and I took that as my permission to step away, gather a couple things, and give myself some fucking room to breathe.
Thankfully, by the time I made it back into her bedroom with the supplies, she was in her bed, the sheet pulled up under her arms. I blew out a sigh, equal parts relieved and disappointed, and I fucking hated myself for the latter.
“Shit,” she said.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, standing at the side of her bed.
She stared up at me, her makeup smudged, hair wild, eyes half lidded. Looking like she’d had a hell of a good night. “I forgot something.”
I tipped my chin toward her nightstand, where I’d set some ibuprofen and a bottle of water. “I already grabbed everything for you.”
She shook her head, eyes bright with mischief as she grinned up at me, and I knew I was in trouble. “It’s not to help my hangover. It’s to help my pussy.”
“Jesus Christ, Harper.” I groaned and scrubbed a hand over my face. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Why not?”
“You know damn well why.” Because I’m not good enough for you—I’ve never been good enough for you—and going down this path with you again is a bad fucking idea.
“Don’t even pretend like this is tempting you. You’ve spent most of the time staring at the ceiling anyway.”
I clenched my jaw, crossing my arms as I met her stare. “Don’t mistake my chivalry for disinterest, sparrow.”
Her lips kicked up at the corner. “Are you saying you like to look at me?”
“Of course I fucking like to look at you. Have you seen yourself?”
She squinted one eye at me, as if trying to read if I was being honest. All she had to do was glance at the front of my jeans to see the proof of exactly how fucking much I liked it.
“I need my toy,” she finally said. “The one I used when you watched. Will you get it for me?”
Images of her using it immediately popped into my mind, and my cock grew hard as steel behind my fly. I cleared my throat, but it was no use. My voice still came out rough. “No, I’m not going to get your toy.”
“C’mon, please? Don’t you wanna play our game again?”
I swallowed harshly, forcing myself to shake my head, despite the fact that I wanted nothing more than what she was suggesting.
She blew out a long-suffering sigh before shimmying beneath the covers, obviously ridding herself of her panties. In all her adjustments, the sheet slipped farther down her body, exposing her tits to me, but she was completely unconcerned.
“Then I guess my fingers will have to do.” She wiggled them at me before slipping her hand under the sheet and spreading her legs wide. “It’ll take longer, but maybe not since you’re here. You’ll talk me through it, won’t you?”