Between Never and Forever by Brit Benson

36

We’ll lie low.

We’ll “lie low.”

Keep our distance, avoid each other, until she jets off to fucking Portofino at the end of the week. She doesn’t even want Brynn coming for guitar lessons anymore. And I fucking hate it, but she’s right.

I’m trying to protect you, she’d said. I’ll figure it out.

It shouldn’t be her protecting me. It should be me protecting her, or at the very fucking least, me protecting myself. Me protecting Brynn. But it’s only been two fucking days, and I’m already about ready to storm her trailer. I’m even staying at Sharon’s on her fucking couch because I don’t trust myself not to interrupt another scene.

“This is dumb,” Brynn says from where she’s sitting in the office.

She has a book on the table and her tablet on the seat next to her, but she’s staring at the floor.

“I should be learning Blackbird right now.”

“She gave you her guitar to practice,” Sharon says. “You could be learning it right now and surprise her when she comes back.”

“She’s not coming back, Ms. Sharon.”

Brynn plops down dramatically across the couch and sighs.

“After this week, she goes to Italy, and after Italy, they go to New York, and after New York, she’s going to go back to L.A.”

Sharon flicks her eyes to me, but I’ve got nothing to say.

Is Brynn right? Will Savannah be back? If not, do I want to be wasting this last bit of time I have with her?

“Boss, how about you see if Cameron can video chat.”

Brynn sighs loudly, but she picks up her tablet anyway. The moment Cameron answers the video chat and squeals their hello, Brynn hops off the couch and out the door to sit on the stairs. I turn to Sharon.

“I’m going to tell them. I’m going to just put it out there so I’m not fucking hiding anything anymore.”

She blinks at me, and her forehead creases as her eyebrows slant.

“And if they try to fight you?”

“Let ‘em. I’ve got the money from the studio now. I’ve got Clark on retainer. Let them try.”

She takes a deep breath and glances at the door, then back at me.

“A lot could go wrong,” she says, keeping her voice low, and my stomach swirls with the truth of it all.

A lot could go wrong. It could fuck up the entire life I’ve managed to piece together. But...

“I have to try, Sharon. I have to get it over with.”

She looks at me, peering into my eyes as if she’s reading my thoughts. I didn’t know her well when I was younger, but I remember seeing her from time to time. Her eyes were always distant, sunken. She always appeared lost. I remember thinking Sharon was like a ghost. I couldn’t believe Savannah was her daughter, because Sav was always bursting with life and vitality, while her mother seemed the opposite.

Now, though, with her sharp wit and keen eyes, she misses nothing, and I can finally see it. The resemblance is almost unnerving at times. I had to do a double take the day I found Sharon in that shelter after the storm. I thought my eyes were tricking me. I thought it was Savannah sitting on that cot. It was such a mindfuck, but when I realized who she actually was, I couldn’t just leave her there. I had to help. If for nothing else, for Savannah. It was a way to feel closer to her even when she was miles, sometimes even continents, away from me.

I really hope that someday Savannah and Sharon can sit down and talk. Maybe work things out. They’re cut from the same cloth. From how it sounds, they’ve had a lot of the same experiences, the same vices, and they’ve both managed to haul themselves out of that wreckage. That takes courage. That takes a strength a lot of people only wish they had. I think that could forge a bond, foster forgiveness, or at the very least, an understanding.

“Does this have to do with Savannah?” Sharon finally asks, and I answer honestly.

“It’s something I’ve thought of doing for a while now, but ultimately, Sav is why I’m making the jump. She comes with media attention that I need to be able to face. I’m tired of hiding shit, of always looking over my damn shoulder. And now that Sav is back...I can’t lose her again.”

She nods.

“If you need anything, you can always use the—”

“I don’t want your money, Sharon. Quit offering it. I don’t need it now, anyway.”

She huffs out a laugh and throws up her palms.

“Okay, forget I said it.”

She takes a deep breath then hits me with a pointed look.

“So, when will you do it?”

I drum my fingers on the desk, glaring a hole in the wood top, trying to ignore my growing anxiety.

“I’ve got an appointment with Clark on Thursday to make sure all my loose ends are tied up, and then if everything is still good to go, I’ll do it the start of next week.”

“After Savannah has left.”

I nod.

“It’s easier that way.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, but the door swings open and Brynn stomps inside, so our conversation halts. But when I glance back at Sharon moments later, I can tell she hasn’t stopped thinking about it.

About all the risks. All the ways it could go wrong.

I look at Brynn sitting on the couch reading her book and eating a bag of chips. God, for all of our sakes, everything better go right.

* * *

Friday at noon, I find myself outside of Savannah’s trailer.

Today is the last day of filming. She leaves first thing tomorrow and the studio will have everything packed up by the end of the weekend. My meeting with Clark has me jumpy, nervous, and I just need Savannah right now.

I knock, and Red opens the door. When he sees me, he glances over my shoulder quickly, then ushers me inside. Ziggy attacks my legs, so I give her some head scratches. I look around the trailer, but Sav isn’t here.

“Where is she?”

I look at Red, and he’s typing on his phone.

“On the way,” he says without looking up from the screen. “It’s not smart for you to be here. There have been cameras all over ever since the article.”

The article. What he means is the fucking three-minute tape of me and Sav on the roof. I close my eyes and nod.

“I’ll be quick.”

Red grunts. He slides his phone in his pocket, then takes a leash off the counter and hooks it on Ziggy’s collar before hitting me with a serious stare.

“She’s been through a lot, and you’re a big risk for her right now, but she cares about you. Don’t fuck it up.”

I blink at him. I open my mouth to tell him I won’t. That she’s a risk for me too, but she’s worth it. That I’m working on fixing it. But the door opens, and in steps Savannah. Her brown wig is shorter now. It’s a bob instead of long waves because they’re filming the final scenes of the movie. She looks like how’d she’d look now, today, if she’d never left. If she’d never become famous and dyed her hair silver. If she’d never run away.

She looks how she would have looked if she could have stayed. If she could have stayed and survived.

Sav looks at Red, something unspoken passing between them, and Red nods.

“Let’s go, mutt,” he says, then takes the dog out the door.

When he’s gone, Savannah closes the distance and throws her arms around me. It’s the best hug, and the tension in my body evaporates. When she brings her lips to mine, everything else disappears, and it’s just me and her. I kiss her slowly, despite wanting to rush. It’s been a matter of days, but it feels like eight years all over again. She pulls back and peers up at me, lips swollen from my lips. I finger a strand of her brown hair, then trace my fingertips over her jaw.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you before you left.”

It’s only half the truth, but it’s still the truth. I’m terrified she won’t return. I’m terrified this is goodbye. I don’t say it, but she searches my eyes and her brow furrows. She kisses me once more, then whispers against my lips.

“I’m coming back, Levi. I promise.”

I close my eyes and rest my forehead on hers.

“Even if you don’t, even if this is goodbye, I need you to know that I love you. Do you understand?”

“I do.” I feel her smile. “I have two hours.”

She kisses me firmly, then leans back and pulls my shirt over my head. I let her. She undoes the button on my jeans, pulls down the zipper, then pushes my pants and boxer briefs to the floor before pushing me back on the couch. I’m hard as a fucking stone pillar before my ass even hits the cushions.

She smirks, then takes off her own shirt, followed by her bra and pants, until she’s standing above me wearing nothing but her wig.

“Two hours now.”

She straddles my thighs, taking my dick in her hands and rubbing it through her already wet pussy.

“Then in four weeks, I’ll be back for you.”

When she sinks down onto me, we both groan before our mouths collide. I grip her hips, moving her back and forth slowly, feeling her slide over me, grinding on top of me. Her breasts press against my chest, and when she starts to move up and down, her nipples graze my skin. We never stop kissing except to murmur our praises. There’s never more than an inch between our faces.

“You feel so good,” she whispers, her hot breath mixing with mine. “I love you inside me.”

I thrust up into her and she moans.

“Oh, fuck, Levi. Oh, fuck.”

I speed up, pulsing my cock up as she thrusts down, meeting in the middle in a way that hits deeper, tighter, than ever before. The trailer fills with the sounds of us. Our bodies moving, our skin rubbing, our breath coming in pants. Her legs start to shake, her mouth opens, and her eyes clamps shut, so I take over. Her body stills and I pound into her, hard and fast.

“Yes, yes, yes. Like that. I’m so close.”

“Good, baby. Let me have it.”

I dig my fingers into the soft skin at her hips. Kiss her again savagely, then growl into her mouth.

“Let go. Give it to me. Give me your cum.”

She explodes with a cry, squeezing me tightly, digging her fingers into my shoulders. I don’t stop until she’s clamping her legs around my thighs, then I flip us so she’s on her back beneath me.

“Inside me,” she groans out, as I move in and out of her once more. “I want it inside me.”

That does it. I don’t question it. I give her exactly what she wants, how she wants it. I pump into her, her pussy clenching around me, until I lose it. I kiss her, groaning into her mouth as I spill into her pussy. I thrust into her until I’m spent, until there’s nothing left, and then I collapse onto my forearms.

Our bodies, sweaty and exhausted, stay pressed together as we both try to come back down to earth, then Savannah laughs lightly. She reaches up and pats my ass twice before smirking against my lips.

“Good boy.”

I grin and shake my head.

“You’re such a brat.”

She shrugs.

“Guess you’ll just have to spank me harder next time.”

I bark out a laugh this time, then bend down and bite her breast. She gasps and swats my ass again, so I push off her and move into the small bathroom. I grab a hand towel from the cabinet below the sink, wet it with warm water, then go back to Savannah.

Without a word, I kneel beside the couch and press the washcloth gently between her legs. She’s red and swollen, and I can’t help but stare as I clean her up.

“Tighten your muscles,” I say, and she does.

I groan as I watch my cum leak from her, store the image in my memory for when she’s gone, then wipe her clean.

When we’re dressed, she disappears into the small bedroom and comes back seconds later with my old bike lock on her chain necklace. Then she reaches into the pocket of my jeans and pulls out my keys. I watch silently as she takes the bike lock key off my keychain and unlocks the bike lock, then she slides the key onto her necklace and secures the bike lock on my key ring.

“Now I have to come back,” she says with a grin. “Sav Loveless can’t perform without her lock necklace.”

She walks me to the door and kisses me once more before I open it and step onto the stairs. Red is waiting patiently, arms crossed, right outside the trailer with Ziggy lying on the ground beside him. He has aviators on, but I can feel his eyes on me. I give him a single nod as I step onto the street. I get a few yards away before Savannah’s voice calls out to me.

“Hey, Weenie!”

I turn back to the trailer to find her leaning on the frame of the door with that mischievous grin that used to own me. That still does, if I’m being honest with myself. I cock my head to the side and wait, and her grin stretches wider.

“Don’t forget about me.”

My smile is immediate, and I laugh to myself as I take her in. Beautiful and fascinating and wild. When I respond, I feel the truth in my words all the way to my toes.

“I could never.”

She laughs, nods at me, then goes back into her trailer and shuts the door. I’m on a high when I turn back to my truck, but with each step, my smile fades and my anxiety invades. The obstacles I have to face are closing in on me. There are so many things in the way before I can have Savannah freely. Entirely. I know how I feel about her. I know I have to trust the universe on this one, but the universe has been a fickle bitch in the past. It’s never been on our side.

And it’s not lost on me that Savannah didn’t say she loved me back.

That don’t forget about me could just as easily have been a goodbye. Just like last time.

I get into my truck and drive back to the office. I take Brynn around to do some site checks. We’re finishing up the final house in the River View neighborhood. Another connection to Savannah severed. I feel like she’s slipping through my fingers.

By Sunday, my house is back in the same condition it was two weeks ago. It’s like the film crew was never here. I got her back for a matter of days, and now she’s been all but erased. Sunday night, I’m scouring the internet for any mention of my name when I find an article about The Hometown Heartless, and a slew of photos allegedly from Saturday night.

From what I thought, Sav would have been on an international flight to Italy, but according to these photos, she was in L.A. She’s walking into her record label’s offices with the rest of the band. Mabel in front, Jonah in back, and Sav and Torren in the middle. His arm is around her, and on her finger is that fucking emerald engagement ring. The next set of photos is of the band leaving the offices hours later. It’s dark and there’s no clear shots of Sav’s hands, but Torren is still right beside her.

I don’t read the article. I close out of it and pour myself a whiskey on the rocks.

This is for the best right now. Until my meeting on Wednesday with the lawyers and the Larks, my name needs to stay out of the tabloids. Keeping the attention on Sav and Torren is a good thing.

Even if I fucking hate it.