17. Levi
Chapter 17
Levi
T he next morning, the crew is busy at work with the week’s builds.
Kim’s stupid K-pop is loud and obnoxious, as per usual.
But now that I’ve heard these tracks more times than I can count, I find myself secretly mouthing the lyrics to myself as I work.
I won’t ever admit that to her though. She’s been trying to put me onto Korean pop music since she started dating Jun Yu nearly two years ago.
I guess persistence pays off… eventually.
Sienna called in saying she had some personal business to handle this morning and would be coming in late.
So, at least I can delay the impossible feelings I have when I’m around her by a few hours.
It’s only when I hear Carter’s voice at the entrance of the shop that I poke my head out from my office.
“Special delivery! Did somebody ask for a custom bike?”
Kim appropriately turns down the volume of the music.
“What bike?”
I look outside and see that Sienna and Theo are dismounting a bike from the back of Carter’s truck.
A bike I very much recognize as the one that Theo hasn’t returned until now.
I walk outside, and instantly, I know something is wrong.
Why are they bringing it here… on Carter’s truck?
“What did you do?” I ask, Theo, a little too harshly.
Sienna steps up between us.
“Listen, Levi. It was an accident, okay. But you don’t have to worry. I promised Theo I’d help him fix it.”
“What happened?” I ask through gritted teeth.
She holds a hand to my chest, heating my skin under her touch.
“Just promise you’ll let me take care of it.”
Theo looks at me like a kicked puppy. He’s already beat himself up about whatever it is that happened.
I hear my phone ringing off the hook back in my office. And I just don’t have it in me to have to take on my son’s problems at the moment.
Not when I have the issue of Evie and Josie and this damn shop all looming over my head.
If Sienna says she’s going to handle it, then fuck it. Let her handle it.
“Fine. It’s your problem, and if you can’t fix it, the cost is coming out of your paycheck,” I say.
Her lips form a straight line. “Fine.”
I march back into the shop to handle the business I need to be focused on at the moment.
Hours later, once the anger has settled, I’m standing just around the corner of the shop, pretending to check a part order on my phone, pretending I haven’t been listening for the last five minutes with my heart in my goddamn throat.
They don’t see me.
Theo’s voice carries.
Not loud. Just... earnest in a way I haven’t heard from him in years.
And Sienna? She listens to him. Not like she’s humoring him, but like she cares what he thinks. What he feels. Like she sees him.
I know my son. I know every version of him.
Angry. Silent. Joking to cover something deeper.
But this version? The one I just saw?
I’ve never seen him care like that. Not about a girl. Not like this.
I watch the way his shoulders drop as she smiles at him. The way his whole posture shifts. He looks young in a way he rarely lets himself be.
And I hate myself.
Because she should be his.
Not mine.
Not the broken-down, too-old, too-complicated mechanic who kissed her like she was salvation and then kept finding excuses to push her away.
Not the man who raised Theo, who should know better. Who does know better.
And still I can’t stop.
I want to be the bigger man.
I want to step back and let them have a shot at something simple and good.
But the truth is... I just can’t.
Because when Sienna’s around, I feel like I can breathe.
She’s my calm. My fucking refuge in a life that’s been nothing but firestorms and fallout. She walks into a room, and the static in my chest goes quiet. I work better when I know she’s near.
And when she looks at me, not the shop owner, not the guy with too many shadows… I feel seen.
Really seen.
And I’m not ready to let that go.
Not for Theo.
Not for anyone.
But that doesn’t make it right.
Doesn’t make it hurt any less when I see the flicker in my son’s eyes, that fragile, bruised hope he doesn’t know how to name yet.
If I keep going down this path with her, I’m going to break something between Theo and me.
But if I let her go... I’m not sure I’ll survive it.