Page 53 of When The Mountains Held Us

I’m touch starved, and the wanton ministrations of my fingers in the dark have done nothing to satisfy the desire for the man in the room down the hall from me. Sometimes, I’m tempted to cry out my pleasure, hoping he’ll hear it and somehow know that it’s for him, but the worry that he doesn’t feel the same always has me clamping a palm over my mouth as I come.

I tell myself his friendship is enough. That it has to be enough. He’s done so much for me already, and it’s ridiculous for me to hope for anything more from him.

I’m not ignorant to the possibility that he has someone else. A fact I’m reminding myself of more and more as time goes on, in the hopes that my disappointment won’t hurt too much if and when I learn of her. He’s never said or done anything to indicate that he does, but I know a man like him has needs and desires that ought to be fulfilled.

I wish I was the one fulfilling them.

Clearing my head of the tangle of thoughts and getting back to the task at hand, I rinse the remaining soap from my body before turning off the shower and climbing out, wrapping myself in a fluffy towel. I have a shift in an hour and have just enough time to dress and eat a little something before I have to head in.

Saturdays are always busy, and the promise of good tips and a fun time have me excited to work. I love my job. The lively patrons are a pleasant mix of old-timers and young folks, who each bring their own unique flair to the small-town bar scene.

After running a quick brush through my hair, I apply some makeup, deciding to go a little heavier tonight in the hopes that it’ll earn me a couple extra bucks from the young guys.

Hey, I’m just a girl trying to make a living here. If that means I put on a little extra makeup one night, sue me.

Grabbing my favorite pair of dark wash blue jeans, I step into them, struggling to pull the tight fabric up over my damp legs. I wrestle with it for a minute, and when I’m nicely winded and finally have them buttoned—take that!—I pull a white ribbed tank over my head and tie a flannel around my waist. Classic country girl. It’s cliché, I know, but it works like a charm every single time.

Satisfied in my appearance, I bound down the steps, already thinking about what I want to eat, as my stomach rumbles in defiance like I’ve personally offended it by taking an extra minute to get ready. My phone buzzes when I reach the bottom of the stairs, and I glance down to see a text from Jessie saying she’ll be visiting me tonight at the bar. I smile as I type out a quick reply, rounding the corner and smacking straight into a wall of muscle. Arms reach out to steady me, and the momentary panic of who they belong to fades when I see Levi.

“Steady there. You alright?”

“Yeah. You startled me. You’re home early,” I observe.

His arms still encase me, and his intoxicating presence, mixed with the faint smell of sweat coming off his skin, threatens to consume me. A beat goes by as his gaze rolls down my body in appreciation, before he shakes his head and lets go of me. I instantly miss the warmth of his hands.

“Yeah, Isaac sent us home early since he had to call us in on a weekend. You headed to work?”

I nod and make my way into the kitchen as he follows behind me. “Just going to eat something quick and head out.”

“I think there’s still some leftover pot pie from last night.”

My mouth waters at the reminder, and I yank open the fridge door, smiling in triumph when I grab the container. I pop it in the microwave, tapping my foot as I wait for it to heat. A long sigh sounds from behind me.

“Long day?” I ask.

“Yeah, all this overtime is taking its toll.”

“Maybe take it easy tonight. Stay home, watch a movie or something.” Since everything happened, Levi’s been spending his days working, and his nights babysitting me while I work at Joe’s. It’s sweet that he wants to watch over me, but seeing what it’s doing to him has me feeling all sorts of guilty. I already know he won’t take me up on my suggestion before he answers.

“You know I can’t do that, Oakley.”

“I haven’t heard from him in weeks. I’ll be okay for one night.”

The first two weeks following the break-in had me on edge, to say the least. My nerves were so frayed every single time I left the house, especially to go somewhere I knew I’d be seeing other people, but as the days passed without incident, I began to relax. Apparently, I was the only one, though, because Levi has been anything but relaxed, always staying vigilant and protective over me.

“I’m meeting up with the boys later anyway.”

I open my mouth to argue but promptly close it when I notice the look on his face—the one that tells me not to think about arguing with him. Admitting defeat, I nod my head, my whispered, “Thank you,” earning me a small, tired smile.

Checking my phone and realizing I’m a little late, I scarf down the food and toss the empty container in the sink with the promise to take care of it when I get home later. I grab my bag and head for the door, but a hand on my arm stops me, the touch sending a fresh wave of goosebumps scattering across my skin. I look at Levi in silent question.

“I won’t be there for another few hours. Please be careful.” His worry-filled eyes are jolting, and this close, I can see how hard he’s trying to compromise by allowing me this. Normally, this overprotective nature would raise all kinds of red flags in the back of my mind, but for whatever reason, coming from him, it doesn’t. There’s something so incredibly comforting about being taken care of by him, even if my independence bristles a little at the idea.

“I will.”

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, leaning forward to place a kiss against my forehead before releasing my arm.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, traveling lower until there’s a faint, steady throb between my legs as I head out the front door. His kiss lingers on the surface of my skin. That word will be the death of me, the praise doing nothing to tamp down the desire coursing through my veins.