A forewarning shiver shoots up the base of my spine as I strain to hear the voice again.
Silence.
You’ve officially lost your shit.
You are imagining him, and he’s not here.
If this was any indicator I’m not okay…now I’m hearinghisvoice. I’ve wished for it over a million times in the last few days but to actually conjure it up…
Cautiously, I begin to turn on my heel. The edges of the garage and tool benches come into familiar view but not him.
Not the man I’ve been losing my entire mind over.
Not the King of South Shore standing there, clear as day, in dark blue jeans and a blue flannel shirt stretching over those broad shoulders and hard chest.
His black ink is exactly where it was before. He has a longer layer of dark stubble along his jaw. His pierced eyebrow and those penetrating light green eyes stare back at me with a slight cocky smirk.
“Hey, Astor.”
My feet unsteadily move toward him, my heart plummeting as I amble forward.
Relief, that’s the first emotion—if this is real.
The second is confusion. How a human brain can imagine such a clear picture of someone in their vision if it’s not supposed to be there.
“Levi?”
His name is barely audible to my own ears as he continues to stand there.
He doesn’t disappear.
He doesn’t move.
The sunlight from outside casts him in a heavenly glow as I approach closer. His gaze follows me, never veering to his precious Malibu I’ve used as a battering ram.
It’s all on me.
Every inch of it.
I study the edge of his sharp jaw. The pale pink color of his lips.
This can’t be real.
And he must sense every bit of denial racing through my head because his mouth quirks higher, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Miss me?”
My hand flies across his face so hard my palm instantly numbs and it doesn’t form a look of shock over Levi’s face, which scares the living shit out of me.
Because that’s whatheis.
Fucking alive.
I feel the rough texture of his facial hair rub against my skin. I feel the stinging pain radiating through my hand.
And it confirms the fact with quickness as Levi’s inked fingers wrap tightly around my wrist to stop me from doing it again.
“You’re an asshole,” he deadpans, and that’s when I suddenly break down.
