Page 63 of Levi

CHAPTER14

Levi

My hand keeps stirringthe liquid in my cup, but I’m miles away.

A hand waves in front of me.

I jerk my head back in surprise.

“Earth to Levi,” a man’s voice startles me, snapping me back to reality.

My eyes bounce up at a familiar face, staring at me, puzzled.

“Rod,” I blink, scouring around the coffee shop from where I’m standing at the prep station. It’s as if I forgot where I was for a brief moment.

My buddy’s brown eyes shift from mine to the large latte.

“Is everything okay?” he asks carefully.

“Yeah, everything is fine,” I lie.

“Fine?” he scoffs. “You’ve been stirring that thing for ages,” he points out. “Not to mention, you’re lost in space. I had to call out your name three times before you heard me.”Shit.“So spare me the bullshit lie. Clearly, something is up, Levi.”

Rod is not one to mince words.

“I had a rough night,” I tell him truthfully.

He frowns. “Want to talk about it?”

I consider him.

“Sure,” I nod.

He points to my cup. “I’m pretty sure that coffee isn’t hot anymore.”

I close both hands around the cup. “You’re right. It’s lukewarm now.”

“I’ll get you another extra tall, extra hot latte. I’ll get myself one as well.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Grab that table over there and we’ll talk,” Rod tells me.

Rod Wolfe wants to talk?

I must be in worse shape than I think.

“Okay,” I nod.

Linc and I have our offices and warehouses in Culver City. After stepping out of the limelight—and rehab—Rod stepped into a successful new career. He and his business partner are behind the production of music videos of countless chart-topping singers and bands. Their studio is also in Culver City. There are other great coffee shops in the area, but for some reason, I always end up at But First, Coffee. It’s the same for Rod.

In no time, he struts back with more than just coffee.

I catch a woman staring at Rod, biting against her lower lip as if she’s having a moment. He’s what women call, tall, dark and handsome. Rod Wolfe never enters a room unnoticed.

“I figured you might be hungry,” he says, dropping the tray containing our coffees and an assortment of breakfast pastries on the table before slipping into the seat across from me.

“Actually, I’m starved,” I say. “Thanks for this.”