Chapter Five
Harper
I jinxed myself, and it’s all Pants Charming’s fault.
I blow my nose for the hundredth time, then toss the tissue into the small, overfilled wastebasket Teague left beside the couch. I woke up this morning with the summer cold from hell and have spent the entire day on the couch watching Netflix. I can’t remember the last time I took a sick day, but I have to be well for tomorrow. I’m even more miserable at the thought of telling Brad I’m in no shape to be on camera.
On the coffee table, next to my feet, are cold medicine, ibuprofen, cherry-flavored throat lozenges, a bottle of water, a bottle of orange juice, and my PSA scripts. I only got them this morning, but a killer headache has prevented me from concentrating on them for longer than a minute. I close my eyes and try to relax the tense muscles in my forehead. There isn’t a lot of copy to memorize, and it’s information I already know, but there’s a rhythm and timing to it that I have to practice.
Rest and fluids will make me better, Teague said in her don’t-argue-with-me voice this morning and again a little while ago. She tried to stay home with me tonight, but I insisted she go out for Elliot’s birthday and have fun. The misery I’m feeling does not need or want company.
When an incoming text sounds on my phone, I pull my arm out from under the blanket and pick it up. It’s Teague. I’m having soup delivered. Be nice and eat it. XOXO
I should have known she wouldn’t leave me alone. I am a little hungry, so I’ll be nice and do as she asks. Especially if it’s chicken soup from Nate ’n Al’s. I pick up the jar of Vaseline and put some under my raw, red nose, then settle back into the couch for a quick nap before my dinner arrives. More than anything, my worries about tomorrow have drained the energy from me.
I’ve just dozed off when there’s a loud knock on the door. I start to get up, but the door opens, and I hear, “Hey, Harper, don’t get up. It’s just me.”
Me. The “me” with the too-tempting voice that immediately causes tingles in places I don’t want them.
I’m going to kill my roommate. No, not kill her. Torture her. What in the world was she thinking sending him to deliver my soup? I slump back into the couch pillows.
The door clicks shut.
“Leave it on the table, and you can go,” I say. I hope he heard me. I can’t talk very loud, and my back is to him.
Of course he doesn’t listen. Levi rounds the couch, soup bag in hand. I feel his eyes on me, so I look up. Why, oh why, does he have to be so attractive? He smiles. I frown.
“Hi,” he says.
“Hello,” I croak, giving him his greeting in hopes he’ll put down my food and go. This is obviously what Teague meant by be nice.
“I come in peace with your favorite soup.” He steps around the coffee table and sits next to me, pulling the jar of Vaseline out from underneath him. Oh, right. I look like a hot, shiny mess. Great.
Unfortunately, he just looks unfairly hot in ripped light blue jeans and an ivory button-down with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. I tear my gaze away from the forearm eye-candy.
“How did I get so lucky?” My grumble turns into a coughing fit.
Levi hands me the bottle of water. After a few sips, I’m better. Sort of. I’m starting to think Levi might kill me with kindness. “Teague was going to leave the bar and bring it to you, but I told her I’d do it.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“The blonde at the bar would agree with you.”
He left someone interested in him to come see me? Why? And why does the thought of him with another girl bother me? I grab the bag of soup out of his hands. “Mission accomplished, so you can go back to Blondie now.”
“It’s tempting, but I came here for a reason.”
“To torture me?”
“There is that.” He takes the paper bag back and lifts the container of soup out. I watch him unwrap the plastic around the carton, remove the lid, and place the white plastic spoon inside.
“Are you going to blow on it for me, too?” I ask with sarcasm.
“I’d rather watch you do that.” He passes me the soup as his eyes dip to my mouth. My scoff immediately vanishes, and I shiver at his blatant interest. I know from experience he likes to watch. He knows from experience I like to be watched.
I drop my gaze to the soup, ignoring the sparks of attraction that always detonate when we’re near each other. “What are you doing here, Levi?”
He turns his whole body so he faces me, one leg tucked under the other, which shouldn’t be unnerving, but it is. I concentrate on ignoring his easygoing position in order to take my first bite of chicken noodle yumminess.
“When Teague told me you were sick, I figured you’d be worried about the shoot tomorrow.”
“I’m not,” I lie. “I’ll be fine in the morning.” I hope. I hope. I hope.
“Whether you are or not, I wanted to tell you I’ve seen the production schedule and thought you might feel better knowing we can shoot around you tomorrow.”
I drop the spoon in my soup. “Shoot without me?”
“Brad wants a lot of footage to use later, too, and some of that is just with the kids.”
I get that. I do. But several of the kids participating are my students, and I guess I feel protective of them. I don’t want them in the water without me, even though I recruited all good swimmers. They’re still young. And accidents can happen and—
“It’s okay,” Levi says. He takes the soup from me and puts it on the coffee table.
My hands are shaking. Fuck.
“You’re still the spokesperson.” He catches my hand before I tuck it under the blanket and laces our fingers together. “No worries there.”
I should yank my hand free, I really should, but I don’t because, even though I don’t want it to, it feels nice inside his. No one has held my hand in a really long time. And the truth is, I am worried. I don’t understand why it’s okay for me to do the PSAs, but not get further commitment about the ambassador job.
“Brad is really happy to have you on board. I didn’t know he coached you.”
“For two years.”
“You won a national and world championship with him.”
I was the underdog both times, and winning made me feel invincible. This isn’t a conversation I want to have, though. I don’t reminisce. And I don’t deserve any kind of reverence. “Brad talks too much.”
“He also told me the reason he’s interested in you for this job is that you know firsthand what it’s like to lose someone to drowning.”
My world tilts off its axis. There’s always this underlying anticipation of more happening between Levi and me, but now that he knows about Joe, I’m angry, scared, and ashamed all over again. Levi’s sympathetic eyes don’t help. I can’t allow myself his comfort. If I do, I risk getting too attached.
I yank my hand free and get to my feet. The blanket falls to the floor. “It’s time for you to go.”
Instead of standing to leave, he checks me out. His gaze slides down my body, then back up, and I’m furious at myself for liking the attention. I forgot I’m wearing my tiny, gray cotton boy-short panties and a white lace cami that barely reaches my belly button, so I can’t blame Levi for his delayed response. A guy sees a girl in her underwear, and he has to pause. His eyes linger on my pierced navel, then on my chest long enough to make my nipples harden before he comes back to rest on what I hope is my angry face. My head and nose are so congested it’s hard to express myself properly.
“You done?” I ask.
“Not even close.” He says this like it’s a foregone conclusion, and his light brown eyes stay glued to mine as he stands. “But you should finish eating and get some rest.”
“I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” I walk to the door and open it, ready to usher him out as quickly as possible.
When he reaches my side, he stops. “I know what it feels like to lose someone.”
My mouth opens, but no words come out.
“Not the same way,” he clarifies, “but there’s some fucked-up shit in my past I pretend isn’t there, too. If you ever want to talk about—”
“I don’t.”
He studies me so intently my legs shake. “If you ever want to talk about it, let me know.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it where you’re concerned.” He smiles. The more prickly I am, the nicer he is, just to annoy me, I’m sure. Then he wraps his hand around the back of my head and kisses my forehead. It’s the sweetest move a guy has ever put on me. Levi’s lips are warm—soft, but firm, and when they’re close to mine, everything seems better. He pulls away much too soon. “Later, gator.”
I sag against the doorframe and watch him walk away. That was…that was…I don’t know what that was, which is a very bad thing. He’s disarming and lethal at the same time. I’m the way I am for a reason, but I wonder about his confession and whether it has anything to do with his ex-girlfriend. Months ago, before Levi and I hooked up, I happened to be at his house with Teague. He was holed up in his room with “Kayla” the entire night, but Elliot and Mateo talked about what a bitch she was and how Levi would be better off without her. At the time, I’d paid very little attention. I didn’t even register his name, or have any idea he was my childhood friend. I don’t know what happened to end the relationship for good, but I recall hearing she’d “screwed with his head” for the last time.
I close and lock the door, and once I’m back under the blanket eating my soup, my thoughts drift to Joe. Memories of him preoccupy me the rest of the night. I wonder if we’d still be together. Engaged or married, even. Losing him messed with every part of me in ways that still hurt. Which is why I keep my no-relationship policy firmly in place, and why I have to feel better tomorrow.
…
I don’t feel better. If anything, I feel worse. But I’m here at MASF’s headquarters to do what I can. The kids are in the Olympic-size pool, laughing and splashing—exactly what Brad wants them to do. I count the number of children repeatedly, watch for signs of tiring or apprehension, and take slow, deep breaths to keep myself calm. I’m not the only one with eyes glued to the pool.
This affords me brief peeks at the cameraman. Levi is sexy when all he does is move from point A to point B. But Levi is sexy and then some when he’s behind his camera. He’s in total command, confident, and completely at ease and patient when the kids don’t follow directions. In board shorts and a well-washed blue surf tee, with light stubble on his jaw, he’s ridiculously distracting. The other women around the pool, most of them the moms of the kids, can’t keep their eyes off him, either.
“We good?” Brad asks Levi.
Levi gives a thumbs-up.
“Let’s break for lunch,” Brad calls out, then directly to the kids he says, “Fantastic job, you guys.”
One of my students, Zoe (who coincidentally is Levi’s next-door neighbor), climbs out of the pool and walks directly over to Levi. He sets his camera down and kneels to her level. She puts her small hands on his shoulders and says, “Did you get me good?”
“I sure did,” he tells her.
“Should I do anything different?”
“Zoe, you’re perfect just the way you are.”
That earns Levi a giant smile and, if I’m not mistaken, a blush. I think little Zoe might have her first crush. Can’t say I blame her.
She drops her arms and runs off to join the rest of the kids, parents, and crew.
Levi notices I’m not rising from the bleachers and strides over to sit next to me. I was half hoping to be left alone, but the traitorous other half is happy for the handsome cameraman’s company. It’s the first chance we’ve had to talk today. He slips his sunglasses from the top of his head over his eyes. I keep my attention forward, on the pale blue chlorinated water glistening under the afternoon sun.
“How’s it looking?” I ask when Levi remains uncharacteristically quiet.
He turns his head so our sunglasses meet. “Beautiful.”
Goddamn him. I don’t blush like six-year-old girls, but I’m pretty sure I just did.
I didn’t just think about Joe last night. I thought about Levi, too. They’re the only two boys I’ve been close to. Joe wrote me love notes. He brought me flowers he picked from his momma’s garden. He played his guitar and sang to me. He moved from a small town in Texas to Beverly Hills the summer before our sophomore year of high school. To say he stuck out would be an understatement. At six-foot-four with honey-blond hair, cornflower-blue eyes, and a down-to-earth attitude unlike anyone else’s in the 90210 zip code, every girl instantly wanted to date him. That he played football like a champion made every guy immediately respect him.
On the first day of school, he sat next to me in English. He wore a cowboy hat. He took it off and put it over his heart when our teacher walked into the room. Then he turned to me and introduced himself. I was toast.
We dated for the rest of the school year. I wanted to have sex with him after two months. God, how he made my heart pound, my blood burn through my body, and desire unfurl inside me everywhere. The simplest touch from him made it hard to breathe. But we were only fifteen, and his momma had told him some things shouldn’t be rushed, so we did everything we could think of but have intercourse.
We were both busy that year. Between football, then baseball, for him, swimming for me, and schoolwork for both of us, there were stretches when we were lucky to steal kisses. He loved to come watch my swim meets. Was in awe of how I moved through the water, mostly because he’d never learned to swim. He’d had a bad experience as a child and feared the water. We had plans for me to teach him over summer break. And we had plans to lose our virginity a week before school let out—on my sixteenth birthday. I loved Joe so much, I wanted forever with him.
Levi drew me pictures of dogs. He once brought me a worm he dug out of the dirt in his mother’s garden. He didn’t sing or play an instrument, but he told me I smelled like bubble gum. That was thanks to the bubble bath I insisted my mom use. We were young, and I remember hating him for swimming faster than me. But I also remember loving him, like little girls do. He was the one person I always wanted to play with.
Which is why I dislike being around him so much now. I made up my mind a long time ago never to let a boy inside my heart again. It’s not Levi’s fault I feel this way, but he is the biggest threat to my vow, and that’s why I’ll push him away until he gets the hint I’m no good for him.
“The footage, too?” I say, ridding my head of memories best left in the past. For the next few weeks while we’re working together, I’ll try to be cordial and accept his compliments.
“Absolutely. I’m very good at what I do.” The cocky tone of his voice tells me he’s talking about more than filming.
I most definitely know the other things he’s good at. Do not let his flirting get to you.
I’m grateful when I have to sneeze. By the third one, I’ve shaken Levi’s other talents out of my head. When I open my eyes, Brad is looking in my direction from across the pool. I’m not sure if it’s my cold or the fact that I’m sitting with his cameraman, but he doesn’t appear happy. Shit.
“I think I’ll grab something to eat and let Brad know I’m good to go,” I say, sliding off the aluminum seating. I didn’t eat breakfast, and while I’m not really hungry, I realize belatedly that keeping my distance from everyone isn’t smart.
“You sure you feel okay?” Levi is at my side, damn it, his shadow eating up the space next to mine on the concrete.
“Honestly, I feel worse not being in the water, so…”
“Let me check with Brad and see if we can grab some underwater footage.”
“My raspy voice won’t cut it?”
“Not today.”
“Okay.” I peek at Levi out of the corner of my eye. He’s all business as we head toward the group. It’s a total turn-on.
I grab a sandwich and bottle of water and join the kids while Levi talks to Brad. The two of them sit with other crewmembers out of earshot. It’s a hot summer day, and even though we’re under a large pop-up tent, a few of the kids complain about being tired. Brad notices and announces that the kids are done for the day. He shakes hands with all the parents and fist bumps every child as they say their good-byes. I stand and give hugs.
“It’s you and me,” Levi says in my ear, his hand on my waist. “Meet me in the shallow end in twenty.”
There is no reason why those words and innocent touch should affect me, but they do. I’m winded and I haven’t done a thing.
I’ve already got my suit on underneath my loose, cotton dress, so I sit down facing the pool with my legs outstretched. Brad takes the spot next to me.
“You sure you feel okay to get in the water?”
“Positive.”
“I understand you and Levi have more than mutual friends in common,” he says out of the blue, and I press my lips together. What did Levi say to him? “My wife remembers you. She said you and Levi were inseparable when you were young. Around Axl’s age?”
My panic evaporates. Not Levi. But my head is down, eyes on my knees when I say, “Yes, that’s right.” If I remember correctly, Levi has four sisters several years older. They were sweet to me, treated me like I was special. I’ve only seen Brad’s wife from afar, but her name is Amelia, which makes her the oldest, I believe.
“Levi’s fond of you.”
“Okay.” I’m not sure how else to respond to that. I have a working relationship with Brad now, not a personal one, so this is a weird topic of conversation. Is he trying to play matchmaker or something? I glance up and notice Levi is looking at me, not the camera equipment, from across the pool.
“I’m telling you that because, as his brother-in-law, I feel I need to step in.”
I gape at Brad. Uh, what? “There’s nothing going on between us.” Okay, there’s a little something, but I can ignore it.
“He looks fine and acts fine, but he’s not in the right frame of mind for another relationship. Not yet.”
My head spins a little, wondering what happened between Levi and his ex to cause Brad concern months later. It must have been bad. “There’s nothing—”
“I’m not blind, Harper. I see the way you two look at each other. But please do me a favor and don’t encourage him.”
Brad says this nicely, not like I’m out to snag a boyfriend, and my initial annoyance softens. I could even look at it as a compliment. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not. I won’t.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m going to jump in the water now.” I thumb toward the pool. Brad nods with a big-brother smile. I’m not sure how to process our conversation, and don’t want to dwell on it, so I quickly pull off my dress, slip off my flip-flops, and dive into the water. I swim a few laps to loosen my muscles before I take a seat on the concrete steps to wait for Levi.
He and a PA are fitting the camera into a waterproof box. Once that’s done, Levi tosses off his shirt and puts on scuba gear. I swim away from the steps to get out of his way, and with help from the PA, Levi and the camera are in the pool.
“I’m going to stand at the bottom in the middle,” Levi tells me, “and I want you to just do your thing underneath the water. I would like some long shots of you gliding with your arms above your head, legs together, and a shot where you’re fanning out your arms and legs. Other than that, whatever style you want is fine. Questions?”
“Should I look at you?”
“Not during this run-through. After I get what I need, we’ll take a short break and then do some takes where you can look directly at the camera. Give some smiles and thumbs-up.”
“Got it.”
Levi puts his regulator in his mouth and walks down to deeper water. Once I see he’s ready, I push off the side with my feet to give me some speed. I’m a little nervous at first, but before I’ve even made it halfway across the pool, I’ve relaxed. This is my element. And it’s exhilarating. I don’t pay any attention to Levi as I do my thing as instructed. In my modest, one-piece USA bathing suit, I cut through the water with barely a ripple. I love the peaceful quiet—the feeling that nothing can touch me down here. It took me a long time to get back to this place after Joe died, so I relish it now.
I have no idea how many laps I’ve swum back and forth in between catching my breath before I notice Levi give me a hand signal that he’s headed to the surface. I follow.
He gets out of the water to check the footage. I’m tempted to ask if I can take a peek, but I don’t. It doesn’t matter whether I like it or not, so I’d rather be surprised.
We do a second series of shots after that, and I can’t help but make some silly faces at the camera. This is fun, and I’m enjoying being in the water with Levi. He hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
I don’t count this as encouraging him. I can’t help that I’m entertaining. When we’re finished, we towel off side-by-side and make small talk. We’re the only two left at the pool.
“See you next Saturday,” I say as I slide my feet into my shoes. With Brad’s request in the back of my mind, I need to fly out of here.
“Hang”—Levi’s phone rings—“on a second?” He notes the caller ID. “It’s Brad.”
Just in case it has something to do with the shoot, I wait.
“Hey.” Levi holds the cell to his ear. “What? The hospital? Okay, yeah…sure, that’s no problem… I’ll lock up and be right over… Bye.”
“What happened?”
“Axl fell out of a tree.”
“Oh no. Is he okay?”
Levi runs his fingers through his wet hair. “He will be, but he may have broken his arm and collarbone. Brad is freaking out. He’d just gotten home when my sister was rushing out the door. Axl was at a friend’s house. Anyway, Brad asked if I could come over and stay with Lily. He doesn’t want to take her to the hospital with him.”
I put my hand on his wrist. “Little boys are tough. I’m sure he’ll bounce back in no time.”
“Come with me?”
“What?” I take the camera bag he hands me and put it over my shoulder.
“My niece is hell on two tiny legs. I could use some backup.”
“Backup?” I can’t keep the amusement out of my voice. Lily is two and he’s basically saying he’s afraid of her.
“Yes. She’s like the Tasmanian Devil in a tutu.” He hangs a second black bag over my other shoulder, effectively keeping me with him.
Looks like I’m not running off anywhere yet. “And you want to outnumber her?”
Levi flashes me the most sexy, adorable grin I have ever seen, and there’s no way I can stay immune to that. I need to get my ass in my car and drive home, do not pass go, do not be swayed by Mr. Hottie McFarley.
“Two is always better than one,” Levi says. “You in?”