Page 7 of Anything (Mayberry University #1)

CHAPTER SIX

I study Levi as he takes his place at the table, drinks in hand. Somehow he manages a perfect mix of high-class polish and down-to-earth charm. I thank him for my coffee with a hand on top and bottom to avoid brushing his skin.

“What did you want to discuss?” I set my mouth in a not-flirty line. No more teasing. It clearly sent the wrong signals.

Great. He’s amused again. “You, ideally. You have me curious.” Brown paper crinkles under his fingers as he holds up a cookie. “Sweet tooth?”

I eye it with desire. “You did jump to conclusions, I see.” Once my eyes reach his, they can’t move away.

Gold inner rings radiate into green. Full of warmth and intelligence, but a tinge of unease.

My gaze manages to jerk down but gets caught again.

When will the weather cool off so he’ll cover up those incredible arms?

I squeeze my cup. This isn’t going well.

It’s just research, like in chem lab. Analyze and summarize what I see … Based on my observations, Levi is confident and attractive. Simple. No big deal. Ignorable. “You first,” I say. “Tell me about your family.”

His posture slumps. Odd. Maybe it was my tone.

“Is your question directed toward my family’s heritage or characteristics of the individuals?” he asks.

I tilt my head. What’s with the formal speech? It doesn’t match his usual laid-back body language. This guy is Shrek with all the layers. Too bad he doesn’t look like Shrek.

“Individuals,” I say.

“My brother is traveling Europe. My father …” Yikes, his jaw clenches so hard I can see the tendons stretch around his jawline. “Enjoys sailing. My mother plans a variety of social events.”

Is that all I get?

He lets out a small sigh. “Their lives revolve around … ” He purses his lips and shifts his jaw. “Status, Yale, the right connections. None of that holds appeal for me anymore.”

I uncross my arms and squint at him. He’s a mystery already.

My childhood bestie Avery had money. It caused so much strain in her family.

Unreasonable expectations, insatiable wants.

Even back then I knew that growing up with less was a gift.

For happy parents, she would have traded her bin full of L.O.L.

Surprise dolls—and then the designer shoes—in a heartbeat.

“Have I answered the question to your satisfaction?” He raises teasing brows, snapping me back to the conversation.

More questions where that came from, buddy. “Mind if I ask why you don’t want to be an Ivy League boy? Most people would kill to go to Yale.”

“I prefer to make my own choices.”

I bite my lips together lest I drool on this café table and give away how much I love that response. He sounds like a rebel with a cause. Because of his family? “Are you going home for fall break? To visit them?”

“I am going back. My granny is unwell.”

Aw .

I edge forward and wait for more. Getting info out of this guy requires the patience of a spy.

“My mother will be away, and whether I’ll see my father remains uncertain.” His jaw snaps back into a vice. As he shifts in his seat, my fingers loosen around my cup. It’s a guilty relief to see him like this. He always drips with poise and self-assurance.

“You’re nervous?” I blurt. Filter, come back, I miss you.

With a smirk, he leans back and spreads a leg across the other. “He’s not the only one who makes me nervous.”

Wait. Me? “Sorry.” I should lay off the questions. He’s even more private than I’d guessed.

“Do you have siblings?” he asks.

I’m happy to share about my brothers and their antics. Recently they wrapped a giant slinky around two light posts across our small street, waiting for cars to come. Even our fun-loving dad was aghast at what a disaster it would have been if a car had come before he had.

Levi laughs openly, in stark contrast to all of his quiet prior reactions.

Guys like him don’t laugh at a girl’s story.

They always want to the be the funny one.

A table of girls eye him like a prime cut of steak and get comfortable at the table next to ours.

He doesn’t so much as a flicker a glance.

“And your parents? Were you raised by detectives?” he teases.

“Very funny. My parents are … disgusting.” I’m not getting the message across well. “I mean, they’re great unless I have friends over.”

“Embarrassing?”

“They just love each other so much that it’s a lot. PDA, flirting, the whole enchilada.”

Levi swallows hard. Did I say something insensitive?

“Please go on,” he says.

“My mom is fiery in all the ways. She loves Jesus with everything she has. She’s bold and fearless and … regal somehow.”

“Sounds like what I’ve seen from you.”

I hide behind a sip of coffee. I’ve always wanted to be more like her. How could he know that? But compliments aren’t safe. Not when they lead to expectations.

“Do you look like her too?”

I should have expected this. “No.” I attempt a bored voice. “I take after my dad.”

His gaze roams around my face, and I squirm in my seat.

“He has the deep blue eyes? The expressive face? The dimples?” A year ago I would have been a bowl of mush if a guy like Levi talked to me like this. Now I know that how I look is a liability and not an asset.

I trace the writing on the cup. They actually spelled my name right.

“What’s he like?” he asks. “Your dad.”

“He’s a goofball, a big teddy bear. He spends Tuesday of every week in a rough neighborhood, playing pickleball with people and caulking their bathtubs.” I half laugh. That wasn’t a good way to describe all the things he does down there.

Levi leans back in his seat. “That’s amazing.” A pause. “I guarantee they’re missing you. Your house is short a character.”

Too charming. Time for a new subject. “What’s with the Tic Tacs?”

He shrugs. “A small act of rebellion.” When I edge forward, his smile tilts. “My parents wouldn’t approve. And my mother hates that I fidget.”

I’m drawn back to the few times I’ve eaten in a fancy restaurant or when I joined Avery’s family at the orchestra and those high-end art galleries in the mountains. Was his whole life like that? “Status and connections, you said? You must have had a lot of behaving to do.”

His eyes soften. “You could say that.” He moves his jaw around again, as if he’s weighing whether to say something. “Some of the Flooders are going to IHOP tonight. Would you join us? You could bring some friends along?”

My heart flip-flops. Why isn’t he getting the memo?

I’ve done my best to give not-interested vibes.

I rub my forehead. But I felt like I was supposed to agree to this coffee meetup for some reason.

And IHOP is a group thing. I should be making friends, not avoiding them because of one guy.

Plus, watching Mr. Fancy Pants dig into IHOP pancakes like a commoner could be hilarious.

I smile to myself—Yikes, he’ll misunderstand that. “Okay,” I nearly whisper.

“May I have your number? I’ll text you details.”

Before I know it, I’m cradling a brand-new iPhone in a Flooders orange case.

“I used to go on daddy-daughter dates there as a kid. I’d always get a funny face pancake.

” Great, I’m babbling. And oversharing. I eye him as I return the phone, the proximity of his hand warming me in a way I don’t appreciate. “Friends,” I say.

“Alright.” Those eyes remain on mine as he stretches his leg to pocket his phone.

“Oops. I forgot we have plans on the floor tonight. Old Disney movies. Maybe another time.” Unable to pull my gaze from his, I stand up blind, coffee in one hand and quick wave from the other.

Shoot, a chair leg trips me. I somehow keep from spilling the coffee as I right myself, arms wide, facing away to avoid Levi’s reaction. A scoff from the table over. Managing to avoid collision twice, I reach the exit. Ahh, the cookie. I beeline back to the table.

His eyes shine with awe and amusement as he holds it up. “Simone Biles wants her landing back.”

I barely contain a laugh, thank him, and rush out.