I would love to participate in their wedding, and if I’m being super honest with myself, I wouldn’t want anyone else with Levi, because it would show me, once again, how wrong we are for each other.
Still, I can’t be selfish. I have to be rational.
“You’re my perfect match. Why would I want anyone else?”
Butterflies erupt at his softly spoken words as our eyes meet, his gaze akin to silk gliding down my skin and setting everything inside me aflame, my body still buzzing from the pleasure he gave me earlier.
We are a secret, though, a terrible and dirty secret that has to be hidden from the world, which would hurt me if it came to light.
So I glare at Levi, and he winks at me, taking another long sip, clearly enjoying my frustration. “Ah, aren’t you a sweet talker?” I play off his serious statement, noticing Aileen and Emmaline studying us as my brothers sit still. “Your wedding needs to be perfect, and people whispering behind your backs for choosing us to be paired up together creates all sorts of drama.”
They all look at me as if I’m insane for even suggesting that.
“Well, to tell you the truth, if I choose only age-appropriate couples, Pierre and Eve would have been the only ones who fit that criterion. Everyone else has decade-long age gaps.” Aileen rests her cheek on Rush’s shoulder, and he kisses her hair. “Us included.”
“In all these cases, men are older. It’s different.”
The media would be vicious to me, and I want to say I’m all brave and won’t care, but I can’t.
They would create more insecurities that my fragile psyche just can’t handle.
Since none of them seems to see my point, I decide to go for the kill and use the self-pity card that usually works well for me. “It’s not like we are a couple, but you know the press. They would still speculate why you paired us up and then probably discuss all this.” I point at my scars. “I don’t really want my scars to be the focus at your wedding.”
“Well—”
Levi interrupts whatever Aileen wants to say. “Fuck them all, then. Excuse me, ladies, for being so crude in your company, but there was just no other appropriate words for all the bullshit Lavender just said.” My brothers lift their mugs in agreement. Traitors. “We need to lead by example.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“We live by our own rules, and besides, all this is just in your head. No one cares about other people. It’s an illusion.”
“An illusion?”
“Yes. Everyone cares only about themselves. And the only time other people think about you is when they wonder what you think about them.”
The tension rises between us as we have a stare-off, and I clench my fork hard, resisting the urge to throw it at him to wipe the smug expression off his face.
Though what did I expect?
I never seem to win when it comes to this man.
“Okay. Not sure what this is—” Aileen wiggles her index finger between us. “—but I have to agree with Levi. Our family and friends won’t care, and we’ve invited only the approved press for a very limited time. If someone dares to smear us or you in any way, they’ll be dealt with.” She points at Rafael. “We have one of the best lawyers in the country here.”
“Right.” I dig my fork into the avocado, stuffing my mouth with it so I won’t shout at them all for dismissing my concerns once again. “As long as you’re okay with it.”
“I pity anyone stupid enough to bring up your scars.” Rush stares at me when he cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb over the most hideous part of me, according to me. “You’re beautiful just the way you are.”
My heart softens, and I lean into his hand, appreciating how he tries to always make me feel better about myself.
The cracking sounds echo through the space, followed by Aileen’s, “Oh no.” And I see Levi breaking his mug, hot brown liquid mixing with blood and sliding down his wrist. That must hurt and burn like hell. “Levi!” she exclaims, getting up and pressing the napkin to his wound and her cold drink. “I always tell you to control these muscles of yours.”
“Something cannot be controlled.” I sit up straight, moving back from Rush’s touch since Levi’s eyes linger on it, and panic washes over me, everything in me screaming to go inspect his wound. “Don’t worry about it. Just a scratch. It’ll heal before the wedding.”
“I don’t care about that!”
“Relax, princess. I got worse injuries while playing football.”
“It’s because you have no self-preservation.”
