Between Never and Forever by Brit Benson

11

“How areyou going to eat all of that?”

Levi eyes my gigantic stack of chocolate chip pancakes curiously. His head is cocked to the side, his mouth quirked up in a cute little bemused smile. I shove another forkful into my mouth and talk to him while I chew just to watch his nose scrunch in disgust.

“I jus’ am,” I mumble, then have to stifle a giggle because he looks absolutely appalled. I swallow, then take a drink from my water glass. “I’m hungry and these are delicious. It’s better than that.”

I flick my eyes to his plate—an egg white veggie omelet and dry wheat toast—then match his look of disgust. He laughs, and I roll my eyes, shoving another huge forkful of pancake into my mouth.

“So, how’s school? You like it?”

He finishes chewing, swallows, then takes a sip of his orange juice and wipes his mouth with his napkin before responding. I narrow my eyes at him, and he smirks. What a proper little weenie.

“Yeah, I guess.” Levi shrugs with a genuine smile. “I mean, it’s school, but it’s been great living on campus and meeting people and stuff.”

I want to ask what kind of people. Girl people?

I want to ask if he has a girlfriend, but I don’t actually want to know the answer, so I don’t let the question leave my mouth. I think we kissed last night. Or, at least, I think I kissed him. Call me a selfish bitch, but I don’t want anything to ruin that, even if it was just another figment of my drunken imagination. So instead of saying what I want, I do what I do best: I tease.

“You sure you’re okay being away from Father Cooper? Has your momma moved into your dorm yet?”

“My dad’s not a priest, Sav.”

His tone is exasperated, but it’s fake. He’s amused. It makes me sit a little taller.

“Whatever.” I take another bite of pancake and chew through a cheeky grin. “Same difference.”

Levi chuckles and shakes his head.

“My mom has adjusted, but it doesn’t matter anyway. I like where I’m at, and it’s not up to them.”

My eyes widen with surprise, and my lips part slightly. Not to be dramatic, but I have to swallow back a gasp. Levi was never one to disobey his parents. At least not so openly.

Actually, now that I think of it, I’m pretty sure I was the only rule he ever broke. And broke it repeatedly, despite the consequences.

I take another sip of my water before prodding.

“I’m surprised you’re at UNC, and not some fancy private Jesus college learnin’ how to follow in Father Cooper’s footsteps.”

“They tried. I said no. UNC has the better engineering program, and I got a scholarship, so I didn’t need their money.”

I stare openly, blinking. When he looks up from his plate and sees my face, he barks out a laugh.

“What? Stop looking at me like I’ve been body snatched.”

“I’m just surprised, is all. Openly defying the parents? Turning down a life for Jesus so you can go party it up with co-eds? Who even are you, Levi Cooper?”

He rolls his eyes, an amused smile on his lips and a pink blush dusting his ears.

“A lot has changed since you left, Sav.”

I watch as he cuts another perfectly bite-sized piece of boring vegetable omelet with his knife and fork. He puts the fork in his mouth, chews approximately twenty-four times before swallowing, then wipes his mouth gently with his napkin and places it back on his lap.

I snort. So polite. So dainty. Such a proper, well-mannered weenie.

A lot might have changed, but not everything, and that makes my cheeks warm and my heart twist up in my chest. I make sure my next forkful of chocolate chip pancake is extra big before I speak to him again, and from the way his lips twitch, fighting a smile, I’m pretty sure he’s thinking the same thing I am.

“Architectural engineering sounds cool,” I say. “You wanna do what? Build houses?”

“Yeah, maybe.” He shrugs with a grin, then his eyes grow wide with excitement. “But big houses. Mansions in Hollywood for celebrities, or giant beachfront summer houses in the Hamptons for those rich bankers and politicians and whoever else lives up there. Grand, sprawling art you can live in.”

My smile matches his, his energy and excitement fueling mine. I can see him practically buzzing with it. These plans, these dreams. He’s talking about building houses the way I talk about writing songs. It’s not just a future career. It’s a future life. One he can’t wait to begin.

“When I get famous—when I can actually afford your grand, sprawling art—you gonna build me a house?” I nudge his shoe, then shove another bite of pancake into my mouth.

“I’ll build you one anyway,” he says, and his eyes lock with mine. His smile softens. “Something special, with a recording studio for you to make music, and a closet for your skateboards, and a pool so you never have to go to the beach. A chef’s kitchen for making gourmet chocolate chip pancakes. Big windows so you get all the natural light. Maybe even a room with a pole so you can practice if you want.”

The last sentence is said playfully, and I roll my eyes with a shaky laugh.

“I’ll design every inch of it just for you, Sav,” he says, voice low and serious. “Only for you.”

My cheeks heat as he looks me over, and I pull my lower lip between my teeth. His eyes caress my face, his soft smile is so inviting that I can almost imagine his lips on mine again. My heart is racing, my fingers trembling. I don’t even know why I’m so emotional, except maybe the idea of a house built just for me, a real-life actual home of my own, means more than I let myself realize. And maybe the fact that he still knows me that well shocks me in the best way.

I swallow, lick my lips and force myself to speak. It’s a rasped, shaky whisper.

“And you’re going to be my neighbor?”

He waits, brown eyes boring into mine, lips twitching ever-so slightly. I can see his pulse thrumming in his neck. He taps his finger slowly on the table.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll live there with you.”

My heart squeezes in my chest, so tight that my lips part on a small gasp. God. I didn’t know I wanted that until right now.

A waitress startles us, and we break eye contact as she drops the check on the table and refills our waters.

“Can I get you guys anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Levi says, giving her a smile.

I return my attention to my food, but watch her walk away in my periphery, before taking a deep breath and changing the subject.

“So, I guess you have to get back to your friends soon.”

I say the words into my plate, forcing a lightness into them I don’t feel. I make work of using my fork to cut some pancake and I wait for his answer, but then his shoe nudges mine under the table. I look up and meet his eyes. He’s smiling at me. A stupid and lopsided smile that has my lips turning up to match.

“I don’t have to get back to them.”

That’s all he says, but it fills me back up with a giddy excitement I haven’t felt in a while. In three years, probably. Not since the night outside his bedroom window when he asked if he could kiss me. I swallow back my desire to dance in my seat, to giggle like an idiot, and instead, I tame my smile and nod.

“Cool.”

After we finish our breakfast, I call Jonah.

I have a few missed calls from him, and I texted him this morning that I was fine, and I’d call him later. When he answers, he sounds rough, like I just woke him up.

“What?”

“Ooof. D’you go hard last night?” I say with a laugh, but he doesn’t answer me.

Instead, he perks up and starts talking a mile a minute. The exhaustion in his tone is gone, and it’s replaced with panicked concern.

“Are you okay, Savvy? I’m so fucking sorry. Torren says Sean feels like shit, but I still kicked his ass. How are you feeling? Shit, Sav. We can find someone else to play keyboard tonight. I swear, we c—”

“Whoa, slow it down, Jonah,” I say, cutting off his breathless tirade. “I’m okay. I’m fine. Levi brought me home and filled me in.”

“Sean’s banned. He’s not allowed around again. I called around to some friends. I got someone who can fill in for the show toni—”

“Dude, chill. We can’t get a new keyboard player before tonight’s show. That’s crazy. It’ll fuck everything up.”

I flick my eyes to Levi. He’s watching me intently, obviously eavesdropping. I pull an annoyed face at him and gesture for him to give me some privacy. He scowls but does as I ask. I lower my voice when I continue my phone call.

“Look Jo, you know Torren and Sean are the ones with the connection. If we want to play those shows up the coast, they have to be with us. We’ll never keep Tor if we kick out Sean.”

“That’s bullshit, Savvy. We can find someone else. We’ll make it work.”

I sigh and close my eyes. Jonah is right, but he’s also wrong.

Sure, we can find someone else, but only if we’re okay giving up our chance at a tour. We can get rid of Sean as long as we’re also okay getting rid of Torren. Torren won’t stay if we kick out his brother. We’d have to replace half the band, and if we do that, there’s no way we’ll catch this break.

Fuck, this sucks.

More scenes have been clearing up in my memory. The way his hands felt, the forceful way he touched me. I think it hurt. I think I cried. I know I was scared.

I breathe through my nose and my shoulders fall.

Why does it always come to this bullshit? My plans and life always being upended by a man who can’t keep his fucking hands to himself.

First Terry with his nasty comments and threats, thinking just because he could pimp my mom out for drugs, he could do the same to me. Then Mr. Oglesby, watching me shower and sleep. I woke up once with him standing over my bed in the middle of the night. I stopped sleeping after that.

Oscar was the worst. He wasn’t sneaky or secretive. He was loud, his desires obvious. He didn’t care who saw because he knew he could get away with whatever he wanted. He’d touch me—squeeze my boob or butt or put his hand high on my thigh—and if I pushed him away, he’d withhold food or allowance. When he started to mess with Mabel, though, that’s when I knew I had to get out. I couldn’t stand the thought of him punishing her just because I didn’t want to give into his advances. If he started starving her the way he was trying to do to me, I might actually have given in.

God, and now this mess with Sean.

Miami was supposed to be my escape. I’m supposed to be in control now.

I’m so sick of being vulnerable. I’m so tired of being looked at as prey. Just once, I’d like something to be good and stay good. I deserve that, right? Not everything should have to be this difficult.

“I’m going to talk to him,” I say finally. “We’ll play tonight, and I’ll talk to him after. Then we’ll decide where to go from there.”

Jonah grunts on the other end, but he doesn’t say anything, so I change the subject.

“Anyway, that’s not why I was callin’. What size shoe do you wear?”

Levi is terrible on rollerblades.

Luckily, Papa Jonah insisted he wear a helmet; otherwise, his head would look as beat up as his palms right now. Couple that with the bruise he got from Bobby, and Levi looks like he had quite the Miami spring break experience.

“C’mon,” I say with a grin, rolling slowly on my skateboard down the boardwalk. “We’ll never get there if you keep letting gravity make you its bitch.”

Levi scowls at me, sweat dotting his forehead and making his arms glisten. He’s wearing a black tank top I borrowed from my roommate’s boyfriend, and the way his sculpted shoulders and biceps have tanned makes my throat tighten.

Definitely not fifteen anymore.

“Didn’t Jonah have a bicycle I could borrow?”

“Yeah.”

His eyes widen and he wobbles again on the rollerblades. “You did this on purpose.”

I smirk. “Wanted to see if your balance had gotten any better.”

He growls and makes a lunge for me, and I laugh before pushing off on my board. When I’m a distance away, I pop a kickflip and flash him a grin.

“Show off,” he calls as he slowly and unsteadily closes the distance between us. I shrug.

“If you got it, flaunt it.”

He tries so hard to fight his smile. He wants to act irritated, but it’s the fact that he’s not that makes me take mercy on him.

“Ohhhhkaaaay. Take ‘em off. You can walk the rest of the way.”

“Bless you,” he breathes out, then falls to the ground.

As Levi takes off the rollerblades, I swing the backpack I’m wearing off and dig through it for his pretentious ass boat shoes. I toss them on the ground next to him and he slips them on. When he stands, I step off my board, stomp on the end and pop it up into my hand before slinging it under my arm. When I look at him, he’s staring at me with one eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“You just can’t help it, can you?”

I narrow my eyes.

“Help what?”

“Never mind.” He shakes his head, a small secret smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

We talk as we stroll down the boardwalk, and I find myself wondering if we’d be holding hands if ours weren’t otherwise occupied. Him holding the rollerblades and helmet, me toting my skateboard. I’ve never really had a boyfriend, but this feels like something you’d do with one. Exploring the boardwalk together on a pretty afternoon.

I sneak glances at him from my periphery as we walk and a few times I catch him glancing back. My cheeks hurt from the number of smiles I’m trying to tame.

“We’ve got another show tonight,” I tell him after we get ice cream and settle at a table outside the shop under a big blue sun umbrella. “If you want to come, I mean. It’s at the same place.”

He takes a bite of his strawberry ice cream, and I watch as his lips close over the white plastic spoon. I lick my mint chip off the cone and wait.

“I’d love to come, but I don’t think I’m up for another after show beach trip.”

He locks his eyes with mine and I see the anger there. He’s still mad about last night. I think he might hate Torren and Sean. Honestly, I don’t blame him. I’d probably feel the same. But Levi is supposed to go back to North Carolina tomorrow night, and I’m not ready for him to go.

I’m trying to keep him with me as long as I can.

“No post-show rager, I promise.”

“Okay, Rockstar. I’ll be there.”