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I want Levi. Because in his own strange, blunt, emotionally stunted way, he makes me feel safe.
As I pull into the driveway, I spot Levi in my yard.
He’s is trimming the hedge he butchered, clearly trying to fix the damage. Branches are scattered at his feet, garden gloves shoved into his back pocket, and a pair of clippers gripped in his good hand. The hedge still looks uneven, but less violently so. He’s obviously been working at it for a while.
When he hears my car, he straightens quickly and wipes his forearm across his brow. For one brief second his shoulders tense, and his gaze flicks to the hedge with something almost like embarrassment.
As if he knows it still isn’t quite right.
I get out of the car but don’t move toward the house. I just stand there, keys still in my hand, looking at him.
He shifts his weight. “I was just…” He glances back at the hedge and scowls. “This fucking thing. Keeps growing wrong.”
A laugh almost escapes me, but it catches somewhere in my throat.
“You not at school today?”
“No,” I say.
It comes out too quiet.
Levi’s brow furrows. He drops the clippers at once. “Something happen?”
I think of Vince. Of Grace’s voice on the phone. Of about a dozen other things that suddenly feel overwhelming.
Then I look at Levi standing in my yard, sweaty and awkward and worried, trying to fix a hedge because it belongs to me.
“Come inside.”
His eyes search mine. “Why?”
Because I don’t know what else to do with everything I’m feeling. Because everything else feels too big, too uncertain, too far out of my control. Because I need him right now.
I don’t answer. I walk inside and leave the door open behind me.
Levi follows.
The house is too quiet. Fifi doesn’t even wake. I go straight down the hallway without looking back. If I stop moving, the thoughts will catch up.
Levi’s boots sound heavy behind me.
I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Steam starts to fill the room as I undo my buttons.
Levi stops in the doorway. “Carmen.”
“You’re filthy,” is all I can say.
My blouse slips from my shoulders and falls to the floor. I step out of the rest of my clothes.
He watches me, color rising along his cheekbones. For a man who has seen me naked before, he suddenly looks almost shy. I like knowing I can do that to him.
I step under the spray and look back at him. “Come here.”
He hesitates for only a second, then strips out of his clothes.
A moment later, he steps into the shower with me.
The water soaks him instantly, plastering his hair to his forehead and tracing the hard lines of his chest. I reach for him first. He meets me halfway, his mouth claiming mine in a deep kiss as the spray cascades over us.
