Chapter Eighteen
Blue Eyes and Bad Timing
G
rabbing Arina’s hand without a word, I lead us toward an open seat glowing beneath the spotlight beside the steaming jacuzzi.
The water bubbles and hisses, mist curling upward like smoke, wrapping the corner in a false sense of privacy—even though we’re still very much in view.
As soon as we sit, I can’t help sneaking another look—and there he is.
Still staring, his friend right beside him.
Only now his expression is heavier, darker.
Desire sharpens every inch of his face. He stands with his friend, both holding drinks, a joint burning between their fingers as they pass it back and forth.
His friend’s gaze slides right past me and locks on Arina.
I don’t even have to check if she notices—she’s already standing.
Arina makes her way toward them, hips swaying like she owns the whole damn backyard. I swear she’s allergic to rejection.
I don’t normally approach men—and I doubt I ever will.
The thought alone makes my skin crawl. Yet even with this fine ass guy staring at me like I’m the only person out here, the ache Daniel left in that bathroom won’t budge.
It’s a reminder of how close he got… and how my body didn’t exactly disagree.
I slip my hand into my bra, pull out my lipstick, and pop the cap with a soft click. Using the mirror on the back of my phone case, I drag the color across my lips, pretending that’s the only thing I’m focused on.
And even though I don’t see Daniel anywhere, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t see me. With my luck, he’s probably lurking somewhere in the crowd, watching me like I’m breaking some unspoken rule.
I blot my lips and slide the lipstick back where it came from just as a shadow falls over me, swallowing half my light. My heart skips, sharp and traitorous, but I make sure to make him wait before I glance up.
He stands in front of me, a joint in one hand, a drink in the other.
The crisp white long-sleeved shirt fits just right against his muscular frame, hanging loose over the dark jeans that sit low on his waist. Fresh Timberlands ground him—clean, and unmarked, like he just pulled them out of the box tonight.
The sight alone makes my mouth part, before I remind myself to close it and I start drooling like an idiot. And maybe it’s just me—but I’ve always had a thing for the color white on guys. Something about the clean confidence of it all makes my pussy throb.
And of course tonight, both him and Daniel decide to make my life difficult, walking around in that same fucking color.
When my eyes finally lift, I almost forget how to breathe.
His dark blue eyes lock with mine, steady and unblinking, pulling me under like waves I have no business swimming in.
The light freckles that scatter across his skin, soften at the edge of his full beard—dark, and trimmed perfectly.
The contrast between his beard and the thick chocolate hair on his head gives him this two-toned ruggedness that shouldn’t work but absolutely does.
I really need to stop admiring him so much, but my mind doesn’t listen. Every detail of him burns itself into me, and the longer he stares, the harder it is to remember that I just fucked and probably broke Daniel barely an hour ago.
He drops down beside me, the fabric of his jeans grazes my bare thigh, the heat of him bleeding into me. He holds out the joint like it’s an invitation. I take it, because hell, I could use it. I bring it to my lips and pull a quick drag before passing it back. He doesn’t take it right away.
Instead, his eyes flash with a teasing gleam, and he says, “That wasn’t a real hit. Do it again. Actually hit it.”
I smirk, accepting the challenge. “Oh, you wanna see lungs already huh?”
Lifting the joint again, I inhale deep this time, letting the smoke fill my chest until I have a fluffy cloud in my mouth. Slowly, I exhale, sending out a thick cloud that drifts between us, proof I did it right.
His smile widens as he finally takes it back, and for a second, it feels like the whole party disappears. “My name’s Levy,” he says, his sexy rough voice low, like he’s been waiting for this moment. “And yours…is?”
“Jainey,” I reply, matching his tone, letting my name roll off my tongue with a softness I don’t usually use. “Nice to meet you, Levy.”
“It’s Levy with a Y,” he says, grin deepening. “Not an I—like my pants.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Of course it is. And it’s Jainey with an I and an E, not just E.”
“Interesting,” he smirks, eyes dragging over my face like he’s memorizing it. “Before I ask too many questions, I’ll start with the most important one…”
“Does anyone have the pleasure of being your man?”
The words hit me harder than I expect. And honestly they shouldn’t. But I’m trying to get over the reality that I’m sitting here at Daniel’s parents’ house, flirting with a man who isn’t him—less than an hour after he just had his dick in me.
Yeah. Real classy, I know. I can practically hear my conscience judging me, but she’ll just have to wait her turn.
I wasn’t expecting for Levy to come at me so smooth. My cheeks threaten to give me away, it’s hard to hide the smile tugging at my lips. Does anyone have the pleasure of being your man? Sheesh. That line alone could melt a girl’s better judgment.
I tilt my head, letting his question hang on long enough to make him sweat—though I’m the only one actually sweating. Someone’s watching me. I know it. And it sure as hell isn’t Daniel—he wouldn’t be able to stand still if he saw me talking to another man. He proved that in the bathroom.
“No, not currently… but it could always change when the right person proves themselves worthy of my presence.”
The words slide out too easily. I hate how quickly a I’m persuaded, how fast my mouth moves before my brain catches up. It’s pathetic really—one pretty face, and suddenly I’m bending when I swore I wouldn’t. You’d think I’d learn by now.
Daniel was suppose to be a simple fuck, a stress-relief type of situation. I didn’t expect him to start acting like my heart came with the package. And yeah, maybe I shouldn’t be here, at his parents’ place, playing cat-and-mouse with another man—but since when do my bad decisions stop at just one?
Levy’s eyes stay locked on me, unblinking, absorbing every word like he’s trying to decode me. The corner of his mouth curls, and I can tell he didn’t expect that answer.
Hell, neither did I.
He leans back for a second, inhales deep, then hands me the joint without ever looking away. His grin doesn’t fade—it sharpens.
“Worthy of your presence, huh?” voice smooth but edged with amusement. “That’s seems like a high bar. Makes me wonder what’s a man gotta do to even get a chance.”
I take the joint, blow a lazy stream of smoke, and smirk. “Well, for starters, not ask stupid questions.”
His eyebrows lift, clearly entertained. “So, you’re saying I have to prove myself?”
I tilt my head, meeting his gaze dead-on. “I’m saying if you’re gonna talk about pleasure, at least make it sound like you mean it.”
He laughs under his breath, like he wasn’t expecting me to throw it back that fast. “Or are you just saying that to keep me working harder than the rest?”
The heat between us spikes, his eyes flicking down to my lips before climbing back up. He’s testing me, waiting to see if I’ll crack under that look.
But what he doesn’t know is I’ve cracked before. I’ve learned how to hide the damage behind a smirk and a comeback.
Tilting my head slightly, I let a sly smile drag across my lips as I hold his glare.
“Maybe I am saying that,” I tease, my tone light but sharp enough to slice through his smoothness.
“Why wouldn’t I? You think I’ll make it easy for you?
If you really want to stand out from the rest, then yeah… you’re gonna have to work for it.”
Leaning in just enough for my shoulder to brush his, I lower my voice like I’m letting him in on a secret. “Besides… if you’re already worried about keeping up, then maybe you’re not ready for me anyway.”
His grin deepens. Instead of backing off, he leans in closer, his shoulder pressing firmly against mine now. “Not ready for you?” he repeats, tasting the words.
His eyes glint as they hold mine. “Jainey, I don’t chase what I’m not ready for.
If I’m saying it, then that’s because I already know I can handle it.
” He pauses, his grin turning smug in a way that’s dangerous.
“And if you’re testing me, you should know something about me—I don’t fold under pressure, baby. I apply it.”
The way he says baby sends a shiver straight through me, and he knows it. His eyes flicker down, watching the way I breathe, the way I react, like he’s taking notes.
He takes a slow sip from his cup without looking away, then sets it down casually on the ledge beside him—like he’s settling in for however long this game will take.
His hand slides lower, fingers brushing along my thigh where his jeans already press against my bare skin. The touch is light and teasing—but the weight of it unleashes something inside me. His thumb drags lazily across the edge of my skin, testing how far he can go before I pull away.
But I don’t.
He leans in, his beard grazing my cheek, the warmth of his breath curling against my ear. “You feel that?” he murmurs, voice dropping to a low growl that curls in my stomach. “That’s just a hint of pressure. I told you—I don’t just handle it. I create it.”
Before I can speak, his lips brush my cheek—soft at first, barely there. It makes my breath catch. He pauses like he’s waiting for me to stop him, but instead, I tilt my head just slightly, giving him access.
His mouth curves into a smile against my skin before he trails a slow, savoring kiss from the edge of my cheek to just beneath my lips.
The air thickens around us, warm with alcohol, sweat, and something hungrier. The music washes out, the crowd slipping into nothing. All that’s left is him—his hand claiming my thigh, and his presence wrapping around me like a dare he wants to win.
“Tell me, Jainey,” he murmurs, lips hovering an inch from mine, “am I getting closer to proving myself… or do I need to keep working harder?”
I meet his eyes, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t think you’re done proving yourself just yet.”
His hand slides from my thigh to the side of my face, thumb brushing my jaw with a gentleness that doesn’t match the intensity in his eyes. He closes the distance between us, lips crashing onto mine with a force that makes me completely forget where I am.
His tongue is hungry, unrestrained. He kisses me like he’s been waiting for this all night—claiming me, right here, where anyone could see. Daniel slips out of my mind entirely, his name erased by the taste of Levi’s smoke and liquor still lingering on his tongue.
My body eases into his as my fingers grab at his shirt, feeling the hard muscle beneath the crisp white fabric, heat pooling low in my stomach.
My other hand slides up into his hair, tugging lightly until he groans into my mouth, pressing closer.
His beard scrapes rough against my skin, the sound of his low growl causing my thighs to clench tighter.
The jacuzzi gurgles beside us, steam rising, not realizing the whole party can see us—but I don’t care.
My heart pounds against my ribs, the fire of his kiss drowning out every memory of Jacob, Daniel, and every fear of rejection I ever tried to bury. Right now, nothing else matters—but Levy and the way he’s making me feel like I’ve been holding my breath forever until now.
Pulling back just enough for our lips to part, he rests his forehead against mine. His voice is raw, breathless as he murmurs, “Yeah… I think I’m just getting started.”
My whole body reacts to his words, tightening with a need I don’t want to admit to.
His forehead rests on mine, both of us fighting for breath, the old blurring out like that kiss shook something loose in us.
His thumb traces along my cheekbone, a soft contradiction to the way his mouth just devoured mine.
I can’t stop staring into those big blue eyes—alive, and full of something that makes me forget the boundaries I swore to keep. I bite my lip, trying to pull myself together, but my body’s already decided what my mind’s too scared to admit.
This isn’t about the party anymore. It’s about him—the way he looks at me like I’m worth chasing, the way his kiss tastes like everything I didn’t know I’m craving.
All I feel is his hand still gripping my thigh, rubbing gently as if he knows exactly how hard it is for me to think straight right now.
“I don’t usually do this,” I murmur, almost to myself, my voice low but firm. His eyes narrow slightly, curious, waiting for me to finish. “But… I think we should get out of here.”
His smirk returns quickly, confident and knowing. His lips over mine again, gentler this time, a promise meant for only me. A small breath escapes before he whispers, “Good. Because there’s no universe where I let you walk out tonight.”
The things he says hits somewhere I don’t want anyone touching. And yet… another part of me does.
More than I’ll admit out loud.
He stands without hesitation, offering his hand like he already knows I’ll take it. And I do… before I can talk myself out of it.
His grip is strong closing around mine with a certainty that sends a rush through me. My knees tremble as I stand—not because I’m tipsy, but from everything I’m trying not to believe is real.
He draws me in, his presence swallowing the noise around us as he guides me through the crowd, the heat between us following like a shadow that refuses to fade.