And fuck my life. He’s really grown up.
“You’ve wondered the same about me?” I ask, sliding further down in my seat as I look at him.
“Yeah, I mean, you had to know I thought you were hot.” He shakes his head, a sheepish look on his face. “I would blush any time you would look at me from the time I turned thirteen until I stopped living at home and seeing you.”
What he’s saying hits me across the face. I didn’t notice it, but then again, my attention had been on the man I’d eventually married. “I didn’t, but I wish I had,” I say softly. “Then again, it probably wouldn’t have mattered. I’m older than you, and have no business looking at you like I have a shot with you.”
“Oh, Magnolia Grace,” his voice is rough as he speaks my name. “If you’d only known. I didn’t think I had a shot.”
My stomach drops slightly as I hear those words. “What if I told you that you do?” I question, needing to hear what he’s really thinking.
Between my thighs, I’m throbbing as I remember the way he looked at me when he came in the bar and watched me take my shirt off. It had been one of pure hunger and need, that my best friend’s little brother has turned into someone who could satisfy me in ways my husband never thought about.
“I’d tell you that you’ve had too much to drink, and you need to sleep it off. Decisions made while you’re under the influence are never good decisions.”
But the fact of the matter is, I know myself. When I’ve had some alcohol, I’m honest in ways I can’t be when I’m completely sober. The girl who is completely sober is the one who’s too shy to ask for what she wants. She’s afraid of inconveniencing people, so she never lets others know what she needs. She’s afraid of being labeled as clingy, so she suffers in silence.
Which is why no one knows these things, I don’t tell them.
Hell, I don’t even admit the truth to myself until I’ve had a drink or two.
“You don’t agree?” He moves his eyes back to the road as the light turns green.
Part of me doesn’t want to say anything, the other part of me wants to be honest with someone for the first time in my life. So I push back the uncomfortableness of speaking my truth, and go for it. “No.” I swallow roughly. “I don’t agree. You don’t know me, Levi.”
“The fuck I don’t, I know you,” he argues. “I’ve known you most of my life.”
Tears pool in my eyes and I shake my head, licking my lips. “You don’t. I haven’t let many people in, Levi. No one knows how much of myself I keep to myself. My hopes, my dreams, my fantasies, the nightmare my life has been the past year, what I truly want in my life. No one really knows.”
He doesn’t say anything, and I’m afraid that I’ve gone too far. I’ve said too much when I should’ve kept my mouth shut. This is why I don’t normally say much. It’s what keeps me up at night. Thinking about what I shouldn’t have said, what I should’ve said. If there were one thing that I could change about myself, it would be that I’m not afraid to speak my piece.
But it’s going to take more than a few drinks on a Friday night to get me there. Leaning my forehead against the window, I welcome the coolness to my hot skin. November in Laurel Springs is a crap shoot. The days are usually warm, but the nights can get cool.
A tear escapes and flows down my cheek.
November.
The holidays. They’re coming up, and I’m going to be alone. For the first time in a very long time, I’ll be completely alone.
Watching the scenery, I notice we’re getting close to Levi’s house. He bought it a year ago, and I’ve come out here with Molly once or twice. Last time I saw it, it was a definite fixer-upper, but it’s got land, and I know that’s something Levi wanted. We park, and the two of us don’t say anything. I have to wait for him to come and let me out. There’s no way for me to open the door from the inside.
I’m starting to sober up, slightly, and when he opens the door and gives me his hand to help me step down, I pull the jacket tighter around my body. Suddenly shy, compared to what I was back in the bar. I step down, and Levi closes the door, but instead of letting me walk away, he grabs my hand and presses me against the passenger-side.
We look at each other. His dark brown eyes, the color of bourbon, meet mine, and I’m lost in them. They’ve always been wiser than their years. We stare at each other for longer than I’m comfortable with, and I finally snap. “What, Levi?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it, but he wants to say something. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue, and for a few moments, I think he’s going to let it all go. Then he reaches out with his hand, pressing a strand of hair behind my ear, and leaning in. His voice is soft, but deep, and it sends goosebumps all along my bare skin.
“You may think I don’t see you, Magnolia. Might have convinced yourself that you’ve hidden all your feelings, kept all this shit to yourself, and maybe you have some of it. Things happened before I was old enough to notice, or understand, and there’s no way I’m going to apologize for that. I had to grow up.” He stops, straightening his body, and stepping further into my personal space. His free hand moves up to brace against the upper frame of the SUV. “I had to follow my own dreams, and figure out what I wanted to do in my life. Becoming an officer, even though it wasn’t for Laurel Springs Police, wasn’t easy. It took every bit of concentration and time I had to make it.”
“I know it did,” I interrupt him. “I’m proud of you if no one else has told you that. You look like you’re doing a good job.”
He chuckles, a puff of air blowing from his mouth. “I appreciate it, Magnolia. But what I’m trying to say is I never forgot about you. Never stopped watching you, or wondering what you were doing. I thought you were happily married though, and I sure wasn’t going to do anything to fuck up your marriage. That’s not who I am, that’s not who my parents raised me to be.” His chin dips to his chest as he spreads his feet so that we’re closer to eye-level. “Had I known you weren’t happy, I would’ve done this a long time ago.”
My heart thumps within my chest as I try to catch my breath. What the fuck is about to happen? In the middle of all this nervousness, I find my voice. “Would’ve done what?”
The hand that pushed my hair back behind my ear moves to palm my scalp, and he presses slightly to tilt my face up to his. “If you want me not to, tell me now,” he whispers, his breath on my lips.
He’s going to kiss me. He’s really going to kiss me. I lick my lips, shaking my head. I can’t tell him no. This is what I’ve wanted for longer than I care to admit. Who knows how long it’s really been, but I knew the moment he walked into the bar tonight and I took my shirt off, that I wanted his attention on me. Now that I have it, I’m not going to let it go. “Please,” I beg.
