I swipe my tears away because I don’t even know why I’m crying. Then I burst out in laughter. “All this stress might be for nothing. I haven’t even done an interview yet. What if Levi hates me?”
“Oh, honey …” She trails off. “Then he’s crazy.”
“So, I should text him, yes?”
Thea jumps up and down in her seat. “Yes! Yes!”
“All right, I hope I don’t regret this.”
On my phone, I pull up his number, which I already programmed into my Contacts. I type slowly, making sure I make no typos since my fingers are shaky. My heart comes up my throat when I hit Send.
Me
You win. I’ll meet with Levi.
“Relax, okay? Levi is a good guy. I won’t let him bite you.”
I’ve never given more dirty looks to someone as I have since Elijah came back to town.
“Thank God you’re not a comedian. You know why?”
He hums, smiling at me like I’m his favorite thing to look at.
“Because you’re not funny.”
He gasps dramatically, grabbing his chest, and his face twists into a grimace. “Take that back!”
“Nope.” I pop thePand settle into the couch further. That action alone annoys him.
He pushes his baseball cap downward, covering his eyes, as he pouts. “I don’t think I want to be friends with you anymore.”
I shrug. “Fine by me. I thought I’d made it clear I didn’t want to be your friend again anyway.”
He pushes my arm like a toddler, matching me by slouching. “I might be a bad comedian, but you’re a horrible liar.”
“Not lying.”
He scoffs just as Levi waltzes into the family room like he’s not almost one hour late. “Are you Lily?”
Standing, I shake his hand and settle back on the couch as he takes a seat across from Elijah and me.
Half an hour later, after I’ve talked about myself nonstop, Levi tells me I’ve got the job if I want it.
A mixture of relief and fear strangles my heart as it beats uncontrollably in my chest. Relief because, with the five figures I’ll make from homeschooling Stella, I won’t have to sell my parents’ house. Fear because I’m afraid of getting hurt again by the same person.
Giving me his contact information, Levi leaves my ex–best friend and me in awkward silence.
“Why does it look like you’re going to sprint away and never return?” His voice is soft, and if I wasn’t still so hurt, I would climb into his lap and cry.
“I’m just thinking.” Instead of spilling my guts, I swallow my truth.
He turns to face me on his sofa, and his hand grasps my knee. Alarms go off in my head as the veins along the back of his hand stand out like rivers beneath sun-kissed skin. Long, elegant fingers squeeze my skin as his thumb strokes back and forth, back and forth.
I’m going to lose my mind on this tour.
“Tell me what you’re worried about.”
You.
