Between Never and Forever by Brit Benson

32

The water is colderthan you’d expect, given that it’s in the upper eighties and humid as hell.

Luke and Dustin have already strung the tubes together, putting the cooler tube in the middle. I position myself on the end, right next to Sav, with her security guard on the other side of her, and we push out into the middle of the river, letting the current take us.

It’s relaxing once we get going, and conversation flows freely. Everyone’s talking about the movie and the rainstorm and their plans to jet off to Italy soon. I stay quiet and listen.

Paul Northwood’s voice rises above the others, laughing and engaging like the good American Sweetheart he is. He calls out to Savannah, and she turns her body so she can see him better. I bristle, jealousy surging through me as she laughs with him. They make plans to explore Italy on their off days. She has places to show him. He has places to show her. She’s much more well-traveled than I realized, which shouldn’t be a surprise, but it is.

For some reason, it’s hard for me to picture Savannah as a tourist in Italy. As a tourist anywhere. She’s headlined six world tours at this point. Of course, she’s been places I’ve only ever dreamed of. Of course, she’s bigger than anyone ever could have imagined. That’s Savannah, though. She’s always been one to surprise people. You can’t underestimate her. She’ll just blow right past and leave you choking on her dust.

All of this doesn’t upset me, though.

What upsets me is the idea of her doing any of it with Paul Northwood. Doing any of it at all without me.

Not for the first time, my need for her flares, my fists clenching around the handles on my tube. I’ve never been so set on having something, someone, as I am with Savannah. As I’ve always been with her. It will never go away. It’s just as strong now as it was when we were kids. Maybe stronger, because now I understand it better.

Without overthinking it, I reach over and grab her thigh, pulling her slowly until she’s facing me once more. She doesn’t stop me. In fact, she’s smiling when I finally see her face again. Without prompting, she stretches her legs, so her feet are propped on my thigh, then she wiggles her toes.

I chuckle and shake my head, but I grab her foot anyway. Pressing my thumbs into her arch and the ball of her foot, I massage gently, and she hums in approval. The sound ripples over me.

“You like that.”

It’s not a question, but she nods in response. I move my hand up her leg, using my fingers to work her calf, and I watch as her nipples harden, perfectly outlined in her swimsuit. I watch her chest as it rises and falls more rapidly and mine does the same.

“Were you getting jealous?”

Her voice is teasing, but breathy, and there’s no hiding that she’s turned on.

“Always. I’m always jealous when it comes to you, Savannah. And you know it.”

She smiles, then slowly inches her body toward me.

“Hold this,” she says, handing me her water bottle, and then I watch with amusement as she awkwardly maneuvers her body off her tube and into my lap.

My arm wraps around her waist to steady the tube in the quickly moving current, and I hear Red scold her. She ignores him, waving her hand behind her head, and I watch him sigh and turn his eyes forward.

“He’s right.”

My voice is quieter now that her face is inches from mine.

“This probably isn’t safe.”

“Too late now.”

She wiggles, her ass rubbing up against my hard dick, and her eyebrows jump behind her sunglasses.

“Don’t think you’re upset about it, though, huh, Weenie?”

I tickle her side, and she squeals out a laugh.

“Definitely not upset,” I tell her.

She reaches up and spins my baseball cap around, so it’s sitting backward on my head, then slips my sunglasses off. She tucks the sunglasses into the front of her swimsuit, right into her cleavage, and smiles.

“I’ve missed your eyes,” she whispers.

I reach up and gently pull off her sunglasses, then slide them onto her head.

“I’ve missed yours, too.”

She smiles, then I smile, and I’m seconds from kissing her, when Dustin shouts to the group.

“Got some rocks up here and then the bridge, so hold tight, and stay upright,” he yells with a laugh. “And avoid the supports. They hurt like hell if you hit ‘em.”

My stomach drops, and I glance forward just in time to see rapids. Angry, rushing rapids, dumping right into the supports under the old trestle bridge. It would be dangerous even alone in a single tube. Savannah and I are doubled.

“Fuck.”

I look from the quickly approaching rapids to Savannah, and then to her tube.

“Savannah, get back into your tube,” Red shouts, and I don’t miss that his voice has to be louder to reach us over the sound of the river crashing into the rocks up ahead.

“She can’t. It’s too dangerous,” I yell back, just as the water gets choppier. “You need to get untied.”

I look at Savannah, gripping tightly to one of the handles of our tube. I brace myself in the middle, trying to use my core to center our weight on the tube.

“Can you hold onto me? Real tight, okay?”

“Shit,” she says on an exhale, and she wraps her arms around me. “I swear to god if I quit using just for this to be how I die, I will rage,” she says against my chest, and I laugh once.

Then we hit the rapids, and things turn to shit.

Our position on the end slams us straight into the rocks, and I curse myself for not untying us, or suggesting we go in clusters instead of this long fucking line. We hit another one, our tube jerking violently and tilting us heavily to one side. Savannah shrieks. My knuckles drag against something sharp. The pain tells me it’s broken skin.

I can hear some of our group screaming. I can’t tell if it’s from fear or excitement. I hear Dustin or Luke whoop like a fucking idiot, but I focus on our tube. We slam into another rock, and I try to push us out of the way of another. We miss a few, but there’s always another, bigger one in the way. Sav is holding me so tightly I can barely breathe.

“Hold on,” I shout to Savannah, the river roaring around us. “It’s almost to the drop.”

We hit another rock, toppling us sideways, then two more. I right us just in time to hit another, then just before we drop under the bridge, the tube flips.

It happens quicker than lightning.

My grip is yanked from the handle and my body smacks hard against something before I’m spun out and pulled under. Savannah isn’t holding onto me anymore. I reach for her, all around me, but she’s gone. I try to call for her but swallow a gut full of water. I can’t die here in this river. I can’t.

Pain ricochets through my hands and legs and head as my body hits rock after rock. My chest starts to burn, the need to breathe stronger than ever, but I know if I do, it will kill me. I try to stand but can’t find a footing. The current is too fast, the water too deep. I manage to grab hold of something, rocks tear at my hands, but nothing stays. Everything is disorienting. I’m submerged and spinning. A washing machine. I can’t die here.

I open my eyes and see brown—dark, muddy brown—and my thoughts flit to Brynn and the weekend we spent in the mountains a few summers ago. She caught a lake trout, and the lake was brown and muddy like this. Like this, but calmer. I can’t die here. I can’t leave Brynn. I can’t lose her. I can’t be another person she loses.

I kick and reach, grappling for a hold, straining for the surface. My lungs are on fire. My body aches. I think of Savannah. She’s out here. She could be in pain like this. She could be scared. She could be dead.

That thought hurts worse than the need to breathe. It’s more terrifying than death.

I kick more, reach more, clench my jaw against the burning, visceral, overpowering need to take a breath. And then I’m falling, like a roller coaster on the down track. The drop.

My head breaks the surface and I gasp, gulping down air and kicking to stay above the water. Not to get submerged again. The current is strong, but the rocks are smaller here.

White flashes. Silver. Up out of the water, then gone again.

Savannah.

“Levi,” she screams as she crests the surface. “Levi!”

She disappears again. The rocks, the spinning. She’s almost to the drop.

I swim. Sideways, away from the center, but against the current. Every muscle in my body burns, but I have to get to her. My head pounds. We can’t die here. Not now. Not when I just got her back.

When she pops back up again, I put myself in the path of her body until she crashes into me, and for seconds that feel like hours, I crush her to me, holding tightly. Then we’re both crashing into the cold, hard cement of the bridge supports.

I flatten myself against it.

“Climb up there,” I command, shoving Savannah’s body up so she can grab onto one of the iron posts and haul herself up and out of the water.

Once she’s out, I follow, pulling myself out of the demon river and collapsing against the bridge support.

For a moment, we don’t say anything, we just pant, sucking in deep breaths. My throat feels raw. My bearings are still confused. I still feel like I’m spinning, even though I’m finally still. My back is scraped to hell. I feel nauseous and dizzy. My head pounds, and I reach up to find a gash and a giant bump forming.

“Savannah! Levi!”

We look toward the bank and find Red, soaking wet and bleeding from his forehead. My vision is slightly blurred, but I can still see him.

“Are you hurt? Are you okay?”

Though his voice is steady and controlled, I can still hear the relief in it mixed with fear. Red thought we were going to die. He thought Savannah was going to die. He was terrified.

“I’m okay,” Sav calls to him. “Scratched and bruised. Sore as fuck, but nothing terrible.”

“I’m going to get help. Stay there,” he yells, and Savannah gives him a limp thumbs up, then huffs out a tired laugh.

“Where does he think we’re gonna go?” she mumbles, and she’s right.

Getting back into this water is not an option, so until someone comes with a boat or a helicopter, we’re stranded here.

“We’re good,” I shout. “But hurry.”

Red turns and hustles up the riverbank, then disappears into the trees.

“Are you okay? For real?”

I look her over, my eyes surveying every inch of her body. Her suit is torn at her side. There’s a large scrape down her arm and a bruise forming on her cheek. I take my fingers and lightly run them over each of the injuries.

“Do they hurt?”

Savannah’s eyes flutter shut, but she smiles softly.

“I’ve had worse.”

I can’t laugh the comment off. She has had worse. I remember. The bruises on her arms and legs. The boot print on her side. The split lips and bruised cheeks. The emotional trauma. And possibly even more that I don’t know about because she’d been lost to me for so long. When the urge to wrap my hand around the side of her neck comes, I don’t fight it. I do it, and I feel her. She’s cold, shivering, but her heartbeat is strong under my palm. Her breathing is steady. It’s a load of bricks off my chest.

A water droplet slips from Savannah’s eyelashes and trails slowly down her wet cheeks. I follow it until it’s joined by another, then another. When more escape, flowing faster, I realize they’re not droplets of lake water. They’re tears.

“Hey,” I say quietly, bringing my other hand to her neck and cradling her face.

I rub my thumbs over her jaw, caress her cheeks.

“Hey, you’re okay. You’re okay, Savannah. You’re not hurt. You’re okay.”

She whimpers and closes her eyes tighter, shaking her head slightly.

“No,” she forces out on a sob. “No.”

“Yes. You’re okay. You’re—”

“No, Levi. Not me. Not me.”

Her hands grip onto the band of my trunks and she presses her head into my chest.

“I thought you were dead. I thought you were gone, and I’d lost you. You were there—my arms were around you and you were right there and then—"

She hiccups into my chest, then pulls back and paralyzes me with gray eyes shimmering with tears. Liquid metal. Mercury. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t look away.

“Then you were gone. You were just ripped from me, and I reached, and I reached, and you were just gone. God, I just...I just...You were gone, and I couldn’t get to you. There was literally nothing I could do. I thought you were dead. I didn’t care about me. I wasn’t scared for me. I was scared for you. I can’t lose you like that. I can’t. Not like that.”

I wipe the tears off her cheeks and crush her to me in a hug. I bury my face in her hair, and somehow, it still smells faintly of peaches.

“I know. Me too, Sav.” I love her. I know I do. I always have. I never stopped. “Not in any way.”

She pulls back and looks at me, brows furrowed and eyes questioning.

“What?”

“I can’t lose you in any way, Savannah. Not like that. Not like anything. Do you get it? Do you understand?”

Her eyes shift between mine. She scans my face. My heart is in my throat. And then she nods.

“I understand.”

I bring my mouth down on hers, and she meets me without hesitation. She opens immediately, letting me in to explore. Her tongue massages mine, and I squeeze her. I run my hands up and down her body, squeezing just to remind myself that she’s real and safe and here with me.

The sound of a helicopter breaks us apart, then firemen appear above us on the bridge and on the bank of the river.

“They really aren’t messing around with this rescue.”

Savannah laughs, hugging herself tighter into my chest.

“Didn’t you know? I’m a super famous rockstar. If I die, the tabloid industry will go bankrupt.”

I don’t laugh. I just hug her back and rest my chin on her head. If she’d died...

The tabloids would have recovered. But me? I definitely would not.

Savannah is sitting in the back of an ambulance wrapped in one of those silver blankets that first responders carry around for shock.

Red is with her, and they’re talking quietly. He has a bandage on his forehead where the cut was. I heard someone talk about stitching it up, but I don’t know if he let them do it.

Red says something to Savannah, and she shakes her head. He says something else, and she shakes her head again. He sighs and nods. I watch it all go down from my own spot in the back of a second ambulance, where I’m wrapped in a similar silver blanket and fighting dizziness, nausea, and a massive headache. When Red turns to talk to a paramedic, Savannah looks at me and stands. Keeping the silver blanket draped around her shoulders, she climbs out of her ambulance and walks to mine.

“I’m cleared,” she says when she reaches the bumper.

“Are you cleared, or are you just refusing to let them take you in?”

She smirks. That’s what I thought.

“What about you?”

“Possible concussion. They’re worried about the bump and gash.” I gesture to the back of my head. The scrapes on my back burn with the motion. “They want to take me in for some scans.”

The concern that takes over her face about knocks me on my ass. She scans my body frantically, then climbs into the ambulance and gently turns my head so she can see the back of it. It’s bandaged, but I’m sure there’s still visible blood in my hair. She tugs down my silver blanket and looks at my back, then gasps.

“Jesus, Levi,” she whispers.

I feel her hand hovering just above my skin, so I turn to face her and take her hand in mine.

“I’m fine, Sav. It’s just precautions. I can’t drive, though. I’ll have to get one of the guys to drive my truck back.”

“Do you have a ride home? From the hospital, I mean?”

I shake my head once, slowly, and the movement makes me feel like vomiting.

“No. Was going to ask Luke or Dustin to just wait it out with me.”

“No. Don’t. Red and I will come to the hospital. I’ll take you home.”

“That’s not ne—”

“Shut it, Levi. I’m doing it, so you might as well just accept it.”

I sigh, and she grins, then reaches down and presses her finger into the cleft in my chin. I bat her away, and she laughs quietly.

“Where are your keys? I’ll drive the truck and Red can follow in the car.”

I don’t answer for a moment. I just look at her. She’s a mess. We both are. But even after all this chaos, the fear and pain and everything with it, she’s still fucking beautiful. Hair a tangled disaster. Cheek scratched and bruised. Red-rimmed eyes with shadows forming under them. She’s pale and exhausted, but she’s still the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.

“I think Luke has them,” I say finally, and she nods.

“I’ll grab them from him and meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“Okay.”

Savannah smiles softly, then slowly she bends down and kisses me. Her soft lips are warm and gentle, and despite everything, it all finally feels right. Nothing around us matters. Not the paramedics. Not her security guard’s watchful eye. Not our friends milling about in the parking lot, awaiting instructions. It’s just Savannah and me and this sweet, soft kiss.

Whatever is happening between us, it feels fragile. Fragile and valuable, but just as insistent. It won’t be ignored any longer, and I want to protect it at all costs.

Sav pulls back and rests her forehead on mine. When she speaks, her lips brush over my lips in a ghost of a kiss. Her breath tickles my skin. Her nose grazes mine.

“See you in a bit,” she whispers.

“See you in a bit.”

She climbs out of the ambulance and disappears around the corner. I close my eyes and drop my head to my chest. I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck. Or like I got sucked into some rapids and hit every fucking rock on the way. I roll my shoulders slowly, noting the way each muscle aches and the cuts on my back burn. This is going to make sleeping miserable. Working even worse.

I just want to shower and sleep for a week.

I open my eyes when I hear someone climb into the front of the ambulance, then another paramedic shows up at the open doors on the back.

“We’re going to get you strapped in,” she says pointedly. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive. Not bad.”

I nod and maneuver my body on the stretcher cot. The paramedic comes over and checks my vitals again, then starts to hook up the straps across my body. She’s doing one across my chest when Savannah appears at the back of the ambulance again.

She’s looking at me like she’s in pain, tears welling in her eyes, and my fear ratchets up. The heart rate monitor starts to beep, and the paramedic pushes a button to silence it.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” I look to the paramedic. “Get someone for her. Get someone to—”

“What is this?”

Savannah’s question is asked almost angrily, her voice is shaking with restrained emotion. I shake my head and open my mouth to tell her I don’t know what she’s talking about, when my eyes fall on my keys clutched in her hand. My breath is sucked from my lungs, and the heartrate monitor starts to beep again.

“Savannah...”

“Did you keep this? Is this what I think it is?”

She waves the key in front of her, the rest jangling with the motion. She brandishes it like a weapon, making sure I get a good look at it. It’s tarnished and beat up, but it still sits on the key ring where it’s been for the last eight years. I thought it blended in well. I don’t know why I didn’t think she’d see it. I nod.

“It is.”

“Why? Why would you keep it?”

I stare at her. She knows the answer already. I know she does. She has to. I take a deep breath before I respond.

“The same reason you wear the lock on that chain around your neck when you perform.”

She sucks in a breath, and she narrows her eyes. I watch her jaw clench as she swipes at the tears streaming down her face.

The lock Sav Loveless wears around her neck, at every concert and in every photoshoot, is the same lock I used to chain up my bike when we were kids. It’s a small, cheap one that I’d bought from the hardware store with allowance money. It was a terrible defense against theft, which is why Savannah was able to steal my bike and hide it so easily.

That lock that adorns her collarbone, that she uses as an accessory to every outfit, that is considered an iconic staple of her image, is the only thing tying Sav Loveless to Savannah Shaw. It’s the only tangible thing linking her to me.

“I’ve kept the key for the same reason you’ve kept the lock,” I say pointedly. “Because the universe was never done with us. You know it, and I know it.”

Silence stretches and we stare at each other, unblinking, until a second paramedic appears. He tells her to step back, that we need to get on the road, so she does, but she doesn’t break her eye contact with me. There’s a storm brewing in her gray eyes, and I’m ready for it. I’m welcoming it. I’ve craved it for too long.

When the paramedic shuts the ambulance doors, I can still feel her eyes on me.

The feeling doesn’t leave until we’ve reached the hospital, and I’m forced into a CT scan.