“Because people keep annoying me,” I mutter, snatching them back but not putting either of them on. “And I heard you already ate all of the food.”
The stupid smile he offers me feels out of place. We’re not talking, we’re hardly even friends anymore, yet he’s smiling at me as if none of that even happened. “I left one of everything for you.”
I hate the way my stomach squirms. I’ve spent every waking and unconscious moment of the last two weeks convincing myself that I’m over him — that there’s no way he ever makes up for everything that he’s done, that he’ll never deserve me — and yet one cute little gesture and a smile later, I still feel like there’s hope.
I hate hope.
“It’s okay, I anticipated this so Leo packed me some snacks of my own.” It’s a lie that hurts us both equally, so I consider it a good one. “Thank you, though.”
Dropping his gaze, he looks as though he’s about to walk away, but it seems he’s just high enough to push it. “So I take it he brushed his teeth?”
“His breath doesn’t stink, and if you’re just fishing for information, it turns out he knew I’d never send something so mean. We didn’t miss a beat.”
Levi rolls his eyes, his fingers flexing to squeeze the chair in front of me. “I figured. It was a joke anyway. You’re always so serious.” He reaches out to flick my bottom lip with his thumb. “And pouty.”
“Forgive me, jokes are usually funny.” And don’t end with me crying into an empty bottle of wine by myself. “Where have you been?”
“At home, with Bash or at Carter’s.” Who is becoming more of a damn friend than a handler. I can’t say that though because everyone knows Bash is my best friend, but it’s different. Carter is getting wrapped up in the rockstar life, and that’s not what Levi needs. “Where have you been?”
At home, wishing I’d have made better life decisions. “Same places I’ve always been.”
He hums his response and then abruptly moves to collapse into the chair next to me. He isn’t going to leave. “So are you sad you’re not going to see your boyfriend for a few months?”
No, that would require me to have one. “What makes you think I won’t see him?”
“He doesn’t seem like someone who likes our music, but what do I know?”
He pulls on his hood and lays his head against his seat so he’s staring at me, but it’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in weeks. At least I know where he is and that he’s safe. “What about you? Areyou seeing anyone, or will Carter and I spend the tour playing matchmaker with you and anything with a hole?”
His eyes scan my face before he responds. “No, I’m good. I brought something to take care of that need, and I’ve sworn off groupies this tour. Figured I’d try something new.”
Like there’s a fleshlight in the world that could satisfy him. I know what this means. He’ll try to abstain, get high to help him, get lonely once he’s high, and I’ll be scrambling around at the last minute to find him a group to go to Paris with.
Like fucking always.
It really shouldn’t make me jealous anymore, but it does. It probably always will. “Why the sudden change of habit?”
He shrugs one shoulder and licks his lips. “I’m just... over it.”
Me too, but probably not for the same reasons. “Yeah, I get that. Makes my job easier, I guess.”
It also means I’ll see him less, but hey.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
