Page 11 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER TEN

When our wings arrive, Levi’s gaze lingers on his fork as everyone else dives in with their hands.

Some of my restrained laugh sneaks out, and his attention snaps to me.

I wiggle sauce-covered fingers in his direction, eyes wide like it will horrify him, and then remember Project Ignore the Obscenely Attractive Guy in Front of Me.

I lower my head before I see his reaction.

He maintains his polish, even joining us to eat wings like a caveman, and dabs the sauce off his nose when his bite errs. I mostly avoid detection when I peek across to enjoy his alienness.

On my way to the restroom, I weave between tables.

“Hey, Kit?” Levi’s voice. He brushes my arm—light, innocent, but black claws of fear spring into my chest. I yank my arm away, heart hammering. The hum of the restaurant turns to a roar as a wave of panic crashes over me. My hands shake. My throat tightens. My eyes blur.

“Oh. I’m sorry I scared you. ”

I dash to the bathroom. He didn’t mean anything by it and doesn’t need to see my tears. I tuck into a stall and lock the world out, pressing against the door, fighting for control. I thought I could escape the memories, but they’ve followed me all the way here.

I was spared. God protected me. I haven’t seen Aiden in months. What is wrong with me?

I hate this, God. I hate feeling crazy.

I fight the self-pity, the anger. I don’t deserve it. I force it down, down. I wash my hands and face. With a shaky breath, I paste on a happy face that looks almost believable in the mirror.

Levi watches me as I rejoin the table. Are you alright? he mouths.

I lower my voice so that only he can hear. “I can be jumpy.”

He nods once, apologetic.

Wow, he handled that well. I want to hug him for his kindness and understanding, which is absurd since his touch is what made me go bonkers. I settle for a little smile that he reciprocates.

“You have an impressive spice tolerance.” Two fingers gesture elegantly at my empty hot wings basket. His hushed voice draws me closer.

“I draw the line here.” I point at the sign on the table with the sauces in order of heat. Dad adds hot sauce to practically everything he eats. Compared to him, I’m a wimp.

Mia leaves me to nearly whisper with Levi as they carry on in conversation. Odd that she’s concerned about the happily bickering guy but not the quiet, charming one. I’ll have to look out for myself.

“I get teary-eyed about here.” He points three sauces down.

“I wouldn’t mind seeing that,” I say. Oops, too comfortable.

“You enjoy making guys cry?” His mouth shows barely a whisper of the emotion his eyes betray, as if life has taught him to button up, but his inner thoughts have to come out somewhere.

Right now they’re all playfulness, but no creases.

Yet. I wonder if I could make him laugh.

I beat that thought down with a mental stick.

“Seems like the only time guys let themselves cry is after some sports game. Is that you?”

“The sport I cared most about in high school was swimming. My face was already wet, so no one will ever know.” Laughter leaks out silently. Entrancing.

I’m dizzy from the dissonance in my head. He’s just a guy, right? Just a strong, funny guy with eyes that speak volumes.

“Flooders win all the intramurals, so no opportunity for tears there,” he says.

That’s more what I was expecting from him. I roll my eyes with exaggeration. Okay fine, I am impressed. I’m a big fan of his athletic endeavors, but he can’t know that.

Those creases grow pronounced at the corners of his eyes. Ah, there they are. “Want to know a secret?”

I edge forward. I’m back to a fourth grader—this time her crush is talking to her at recess. I’m such a sucker for authenticity and openness. Maybe because I know how wrong life goes without it. Maybe because I’ve gotten so bad at it recently.

“The movie E.T. still makes me cry.” He’s as sweet and cute as a gummy bear.

“You’d have to be soulless not to feel something for the little alien. In the tent with the scary scientists? I love that movie. Such a classic.”

“Do you like when movies make you cry?”

“Some of my favorites make me boo-hoo cry.”

“Tell me.”

Mia’s nearly shouting with enthusiasm next to me, but he appears to have no concern, attention trained on me alone.

His gaze is steady, but something there hints that he’s hiding something—like there’s more beneath the surface that he’s deliberately keeping locked away.

My happy meter is dangerously close to giddy, but I can’t help but wonder what I’m not seeing.

“Mm, The Fault in Our Stars , The Notebook , Five Feet Apart , A Walk to Remember . But I’m not always in the mood to be a mess.” I haven’t wanted to see those movies in months. Real life has been too emotional and confusing already.

“I haven’t seen any of those.”

“Maybe watch them from a pool.”

A laugh escapes his mouth, but not a budge from his intense gaze on mine. I try not to grin or pass out.

The server hands out our bills. As planned, it’s $4.80 plus tip. I can handle that.

“New Money,” Sophie calls to me from down the table, pointing up to the song playing.

I played this in the suite earlier. Sharing music favorites is one of many perks of living with friends.

“Doesn’t it make you feel something?” she asks Austin.

“Walker Hayes is good at that,” Austin says.

An inscrutable look from Levi. There’s a lot going on in that well-groomed head of his. In other news, his wavy hair is swept back from his forehead just right.

“That’s why I love country music,” Sophie says. “It’s all stories. They might take place somewhere foreign to me, but the feelings are universal.”

Austin sends her a cute smile. “Fair enough. I can share.”

Out of character, she falls silent.

“I’d better give you my number so I can translate when needed.” He points at her phone and pulls two fingers in, like Hand that over . “I’d hate for you to be confused about the lyrics to your favorite songs.”

She scoffs but unlocks and passes her phone without hesitation.

On the way back, I abscond to the front of the pack so I can claim a seat in the back row.

I learned my lesson about lollygagging. Sophie joins me and busts out the Ben Rector song “Range Rover.” I half-laugh, half-shush her and sing along just quietly enough that Levi can’t hear.

I’m learning Sophie’s love language is playing along with her fun nonsense.

I guess that one didn’t make it into Gary Chapman’s book.

Back at the suite, Sophie shuts down my questions, but my own mind races with unwanted dialogue.

I settle into bed, but my brain won’t follow.

The filing clerk in my mind frantically waves short- and long-term memories at me.

What kind of lunatic am I, bantering with the suave, charming guy after my experience last spring?

Especially now that it’s clear my flashbacks aren’t going anywhere.

Levi’s ability to cut past the fear and pull me in closer is terrifying.

I thought I could build walls high enough to keep out the danger, but he keeps slipping through the cracks.

I wish I could talk to Mom, to someone, to untangle this mess in my head.

I wish I could puzzle out what’s safe and what’s not.

My inability to trust my own decision-making is crippling.