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“You’re not out of line, Zara. Maylene came out to LA for the funeral, but relationships were strained, and they’ve been trying to get me to move on since Iris walked out. They were likely here to cheer me up. Not that I need it,” he says, giving me a wink.
“Do you need cheering up?” I hedge.
“No, but I need to apologize for earlier,” he tells me while shaking his head. “I got a little lost in my head.”
“Why?”
Levi picks up my hand, interlocking our fingers. He holds them up so that they glow next to the fire.
“I like you, Zara. I can’t explain it, but when I think about how different our worlds are I wonder—”
“Wonder if we’d survive?”
“Something like that.” He sighs.
Changing the way I’m sitting, I turn to face him but do so in a way that we’re still holding hands. “I like you, too, Levi. None of it makes sense. You’re not my type. I’m not sure we have anything in common. Our jobs, while they are the same, are completely different. And I’m damaged. I don’t know if I can trust anyone, and yet all I could think about today was how I wanted to kiss you.”
“I’m glad that you did.” He smiles and brings the back of my hand to his mouth where he presses a kiss.
“I am too, except for what happened when we came back here. That had me thinking I’d made a mistake, that because we’re so different, maybe it’s a turn off to you.”
“There isn’t a single thing about you that is a turn-off, Zara.”
Everything in me is screaming that I hop over the arms of the chair and climb into his lap, but I did that today and didn’t like the aftermath. Not that I expected Levi to drop his pants and go to town, but I expected. . . something, anything like the tour he promised me that could’ve ended up in his bedroom for a sweet make-out session. Levi watches me, waiting for me to crack or run. I don’t want to. I may not be thinking clearly most of the time, but I do know this. I like Levi Austin and want to see where things can go between us.
Before I can make up my mind on what to do, he slowly pulls my beanie off and runs his fingers through my hair. “How about that tour I promised you earlier?”
“I’d like that,” I tell him right before his lips touch mine.
levi
Twenty
The desireI have been feeling for Zara increases each and every time she’s near. Never mind the reaction I have when we’re holding hands, or I’m lucky enough to steal a kiss or two from her. I’m torn with the idea of staying outside by the fire or finally giving the tour that I have promised her. Both have potential rewards of getting closer to her, along with the nagging fear that neither of us is in a position to pursue anything. I do not relish the thought that I’m a rebound, but I’d be a fool to think otherwise, which makes the idea of sitting by the fire more appealing because nothing can happen here. Inside, everything can happen, and that’s what I want.
I want to know Zara, to learn what turns her on, and find out what makes her happy or mad. I should know what makes her smile so that when I see her down, I know how to make her day better. Not that I plan to ever piss her off, but I’d make a conscious effort to avoid those situations.
Every kiss we share is slow building, causing me to fight the urge to pull her onto my lap and push my fingers through her hair. The only things separating us are the arms of the chairs, making everything we do awkward and clumsy. It’s safer this way, the gap between our bodies, because I don’t know what I’ll do if I have her pressed against me again. Earlier, it was pure torture riding Night back with an erection. Each trot caused the saddle to jab into my hard on, making the ride almost unbearable. In fact, I’m not convinced I didn’t do any damage and that’s another reason Zara and I can’t take this inside. What if I’m broken? Except I’m not and I know that because my buddy is rising to the occasion, ready for some action.
The fire continues to burn much like the heated sensation that moves through my body each time Zara leans over and kisses my neck, cheek, or nips at my ear. Her intentions are clear while mine are still murky even though I return each sentiment. I can’t have her thinking that I’m not interested because I am, without a doubt, ready to take her into my bedroom and show her the differences between a cowboy and a rocker. Right now, it feels like we’ve known each other for weeks, months even, and not less than a week. Even with those feelings, I am still hesitant to push her for more even though it’s what I want. I need her to be sure—to not have any doubt in her mind—that she wants to pursue something with me.
Very little words are exchanged between us as we watch the red embers glow underneath the night sky. Every so often there will be the howl of a coyote or a rustling in the woods from who knows what. I don’t bother to tell her that there are bears or snakes out there. That conversation will have to happen later before I leave to go back and get Willow, which I need to tell Zara about.
“How about that tour, Levi?” she suggests, but that’s not what I hear. Instead, I hear her soft, seductive voice asking me to take her to bed, to show her body the love it’s been lacking.
“Okay,” I say as I stand and make my way to the bonfire. I bat it down as much as I can and pour the bucket of water I have sitting nearby. It’s not nearly enough to put it out, and I find myself refilling it three times before there isn’t any sign of red. “I’ll have to check on this before we go to bed.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize my mistake. I never meant to imply that we were going together, not that I’d tell her no. I rather like the idea of having her in my bed pressed up against me. Even if we only sleep, having her there would be a welcomed reprieve from the loneliness I feel at night.
Zara stands, making the next move for both of us. She seems so sure of what she wants and yet I continue to hesitate. Even though I extend my hand toward hers and our fingers lock, I’m second-guessing what’s going to happen once we walk inside my house. Yet, those lingering feelings aren’t enough to keep me away from her. We climb the steps of my deck one by one and walk a few feet to the sliding glass door. The soft lights that I have set up throughout the house illuminate the inside, making it easy for us to see where we’re going.
“This is Willow’s room,” I say as I open the door. The style is similar to her room in California except she has a massive window that looks out over our land.
“Her view, though.” Zara walks in and heads right to the window to look out. “I can’t imagine waking up to this every morning.”
“You can switch rooms if you’d like?”
She glances at me from over her shoulder. “My room is fine.”
So is mine, but I don’t say that to her because my heart and mind aren’t even close to being on the same page right now. I motion for her to follow me to Stormy’s room, which is decorated in her pre-teen mode of life and will probably have to be cleaned out and redone when she moves back home.
