I’m dizzy from the dissonance in my head. He’s just a guy, right? Just a strong, funny guy with eyes that speak volumes.
“Flooders win all the intramurals, so no opportunity for tears there,” he says.
That’s more what I was expecting from him. I roll my eyes with exaggeration. Okay fine, I am impressed. I’m a big fan of his athletic endeavors, but he can’t know that.
Those creases grow pronounced at the corners of his eyes. Ah, there they are. “Want to know a secret?”
I edge forward. I’m back to a fourth grader—this time her crush is talking to her at recess. I’m such a sucker for authenticity and openness. Maybe because I know how wrong life goes without it. Maybe because I’ve gotten so bad at it recently.
“The movieE.T.still makes me cry.” He’s as sweet and cute as a gummy bear.
“You’d have to be soulless not to feel something for the little alien. In the tent with the scary scientists? I love that movie. Such a classic.”
“Do you like when movies make you cry?”
“Some of my favorites make me boo-hoo cry.”
“Tell me.”
Mia’s nearly shouting with enthusiasm next to me, but he appears to have no concern, attention trained on me alone. His gaze is steady, but something there hints that he’s hiding something—like there’s more beneath the surface that he’s deliberately keeping locked away. My happy meter is dangerously close to giddy, but I can’t help but wonder what I’m not seeing.
“Mm,The Fault in Our Stars,The Notebook,Five Feet Apart,A Walk to Remember. But I’m not always in the mood to be a mess.” I haven’t wanted to see those movies in months. Real life has been too emotional and confusing already.
“I haven’t seen any of those.”
“Maybe watch them from a pool.”
A laugh escapes his mouth, but not a budge from his intense gaze on mine. I try not to grin or pass out.
The server hands out our bills. As planned, it’s $4.80 plus tip. I can handle that.
“New Money,” Sophie calls to me from down the table, pointing up to the song playing.
I played this in the suite earlier. Sharing music favorites is one of many perks of living with friends.
“Doesn’t it make you feel something?” she asks Austin.
“Walker Hayes is good at that,” Austin says.
An inscrutable look from Levi. There’s a lot going on in that well-groomed head of his. In other news, his wavy hair is swept back from his forehead just right.
“That’s why I love country music,” Sophie says. “It’s all stories. They might take place somewhere foreign to me, but the feelings are universal.”
Austin sends her a cute smile. “Fair enough. I can share.”
Out of character, she falls silent.
“I’d better give you my number so I can translate when needed.” He points at her phone and pulls two fingers in, likeHand that over. “I’d hate for you to be confused about the lyrics to your favorite songs.”
She scoffs but unlocks and passes her phone without hesitation.
On the way back, I abscond to the front of the pack so I can claim a seat in the back row. I learned my lesson about lollygagging. Sophie joins me and busts out the Ben Rector song “Range Rover.” I half-laugh, half-shush her and sing along just quietly enough that Levi can’t hear. I’m learning Sophie’s love language isplaying along with her fun nonsense. I guess that one didn’t make it into Gary Chapman’s book.
Back at the suite, Sophie shuts down my questions, but my own mind races with unwanted dialogue. I settle into bed, but my brain won’t follow. The filing clerk in my mind frantically waves short- and long-term memories at me. What kind of lunatic am I, bantering with the suave, charming guy after my experience last spring? Especially now that it’s clear my flashbacks aren’t going anywhere.
Levi’s ability to cut past the fear and pull me in closer is terrifying. I thought I could build walls high enough to keep out the danger, but he keeps slipping through the cracks. I wish I could talk to Mom, to someone, to untangle this mess in my head. I wish I could puzzle out what’s safe and what’s not. My inability to trust my own decision-making is crippling.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
