Page 10

“How was your first night?” Macy asks, offering me a bottle of water from the mini-fridge.

We’re hanging out in the break room after finishing the closing shift. I take a sip of water, contemplating her question. Despite the fatigue catching up after a long night, I feel good about how things went.

“Not too bad, I think?”

“Yeah,” she says with a smile. “You did great, especially with the large crowd we had.”

As silly as it sounds, her praise makes me feel better, easing any lingering doubts about handling the pressure fade.

“I’m relieved that the first shift is over,” I admit.

It can only get easier from here, right?

“I’d say it’s the hardest shift, but you never know. We get some pretty wacky people who like to test your patience.”

Her words make me think of Sadie. She wasn’t wacky per se, but she was bitchy. I was relieved when she wasn’t seated at one of my tables.

Of course, thinking about her makes me think about him . Is it weird that he’s taken up so much space in my head, yet I still don’t know his name? There never seems to be a good opportunity to find out.

I drag a palm down my jean-clad thigh. “Oh, I’m sure. Hopefully, I won’t have to deal with anyone like that for a while.”

“Girl, you and me both. You ready to head out?” Macy stands, grabbing her keys and purse.

“Definitely,” I say, following suit. “And thanks again for dropping me off.”

Sometime during the evening, I mentioned the car debacle and having to Uber home.

Macy outright said there was no way I was doing that when she could drop me off.

At first, I refused, not wanting her to go out of her way, but she wouldn’t hear it—insisting it was no big deal and that she drops Elsie off anyway on nights they work together.

“Preston asked me to stop by before I leave,” Macy says, hiking a thumb over her shoulder toward his office. “I’ll grab the car after and meet you guys out front?”

“Sure, sounds good,” I nod.

Outside, there’s a slight chill, but it feels heavenly on my clammy skin after being trapped indoors all evening. I sit on one of the benches just outside the front entrance.

I’m about to mindlessly scroll on my phone when a pair of headlights from a lone car in the parking lot turn on. I squint, my eyes straining to make out the figure in the car. The longer I stare, the more paranoid I get. Every true crime podcast episode I’ve listened to comes back to me.

The driver’s side door opens, and I immediately jump to my feet, ready to head back inside where it’s safer. But before I can take a step, the driver comes into view, illuminated by the headlights. My unease slowly turns into confusion.

What is he still doing here? His friends left over an hour ago. And yes, I know this because I might have glanced at their table more times than I’ll admit. I saw the four of them leave together.

Yet, here he is, standing in front of me.

I swallow hard as trepidation morphs into nervous excitement at the sight of him.

“I thought you were a serial killer!” I call out, my heart rate slowly returning to normal.

He laughs, and the sound echoes around the quiet parking lot. Wow, it’s a nice sound. It’s deep and throaty and lights up his face.

Not the time or place, Bear.

“If I were a serial killer, you wouldn’t know until I’ve gotten you bound and gagged.” His voice is teasing, but my face flushes at hearing him use the words “bound” and “gagged together.

I think I liked it better when he was less friendly. This feels like dangerous territory and not something I’m fully prepared to take on right now, so I ignore how my body lights up at seeing him.

“What are you still doing here?” I ask, feigning indifference.

“Who says I didn’t just leave and get back in my car?”

“I know you didn’t.” The words slip out before I can stop them, and it's too late. I’ve shown my hand. Judging by the smirk tugging at his lips, he knows it too.

“You keeping tabs on me, Teddy Bear?” He teases.

I roll my eyes, fighting the smile threatening to appear. I can’t deny that the nickname doesn’t irritate me the way it did before. Tonight, it sounds endearing. Or maybe it’s because some level of affection accompanies the words, warming me up from the inside.

I adopt a neutral expression, hoping it hides how much I’m enjoying this back and forth. “Just answer the question.”

“I was waiting,” he says simply like that explains everything.

“You make it a habit to wait for people alone in parking lots at night?”

“Not people. Just one person. And this is fairly new to me.”

Forcing myself not to get caught up in how vulnerable and sweet he looks under the parking lot lights, I stand taller. “Who are you waiting for?”

God, if he says Sadie, and she magically appears from behind a wall or something, let the ground swallow me up right now.

“I was waiting for you.”

“Me?” I ask in surprise.

Why would he be waiting for me, of all people? And also, why is my heart doing a flip-flop at hearing that?

“Yeah, I wanted to see if you needed a ride home. And uh,” he clears his throat, “to see if we could finish our conversation from earlier.”

Oh. He means the one interrupted by red-headed Barbie, who was all up in his personal space. Of course, I don’t say that because it would make me sound jealous, and I’m not. No, not at all.

So, instead, I say lamely, “I don’t take rides from strangers.”

Was I about to order an Uber if it weren’t for Macy? Yes, but that’s neither here nor there.

He raises a brow. “Technically, we’re not strangers. I live in your building, remember?”

Of course, I remember. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Again, I don’t voice my thoughts because I don’t want him to know how much he’s been on my mind.

I rack my teeth over my lower lip. “I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Levi.”

Levi.

Finally, a name to a face. I hadn’t realized how much it had bothered me that he knew my name while I didn’t know his. Like he had some upper hand. But now, we’re finally on an even playing field.

I let his name swirl around my mind, and dammit, even his name fits him perfectly.

Why couldn’t it be something weird like Glazier? Or old like Alfred? Not that it would have taken away from his good looks, but it would at least have made me feel slightly better knowing his name isn’t as attractive as his face.

Unbeknownst to my inner turmoil, Levi continues, “So, about that ride?”

“Who says I don’t have a car?” I should just shut up and thank him for the offer, but I enjoy talking to him. A lot more than I expected.

“I figured I’d take my chances.” A hint of a smile touches his lips, and he steps toward me.

A pair of headlights slice through the parking lot. Judging by the direction, it’s probably Macy. I have about ten seconds to decide. I look away from her car and back at Levi.

He watches me expectantly, and I want to say yes.

My heart so badly wants to keep this going, whatever this is.

But my head screams at me to run the other way, reminding me how badly things ended with Hunter.

And that’s enough for me to follow my head on this one.

Maybe if I listened to it more, I’d see people for who they are, not who I want them to be.

I take a deep breath and exhale silently through my nose, hating myself for what I’m about to say. “Look, I appreciate you waiting around, but I already have a ride.”

Under the beam of Macy’s headlights, I watch him absorb my words. His eyebrows slant inward, and he briefly lowers his gaze to his Nike-clad feet. When he looks up again, his expression is closed off, and a knot of guilt coils in my stomach.

I tell myself it shouldn’t matter. But it does. There may not have been a right or wrong decision here, but I still feel like I made the wrong one.

“All right, well, get home safely.” He sounds resigned, and there’s no trace of that earlier tease in his voice, which I already miss.

“Thanks. You too, Levi,” I say softly, but he’s already turning away.

Staring after him, the guilt coils tighter.

I walk toward Macy’s car, not bothering to wait until she’s completely stopped. I open the passenger door, sink into the seat, and rest my head back, closing my eyes. Exhaustion from a long day of classes and work crashes over me.

“Sorry that took so long,” Macy apologizes.

Forcing my eyes open, I sit up and fasten my seat belt. “It’s fine. I didn’t even notice.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Seems like you were pretty preoccupied.”

My eyes widen. “We were only talking,” I say quickly.

We really were, but it also felt like much more than that.

Her lips twitch as she studies me. The longer she stares, the pinker my cheeks grow. Thank goodness for the dim lighting inside the car.

“Looked kinda intense. Is there something going on between the two of you?”

My immediate reaction is to deny it, to tell her no. But I can’t get the words out because… maybe? I’m saved from answering when the back door opens, and Elsie slides into the car, settling in the middle seat.

“Sorry, my dad called me right after I used the bathroom, and he wouldn’t stop going on about my credit card statement this month,” she says with an exasperated breath.

“All good. I had to see Preston anyway,” Macy says, pulling out of the parking lot.

I glance at the side mirror, watching Levi's headlights fade the further we drive. I can't shake his dejected expression from my mind. I hate being responsible for putting it there, but I have my reasons, even if he doesn't know them.

“So, Bear,” Elsie says, snapping me from my thoughts. “Since this is your first official week as a Silver Wolf, it’s only fair we accompany you to your first Huska party this weekend.”

“We?” Macy lifts a brow at her in the rear-view mirror.

“Yes, we, as in you and I, Macy.”

I can’t help but laugh at the tortured look on Macy’s face.

“I’ve been trying to get this one to come with me all week,” Elsie explains, waving her hand in Macy’s direction.

“I told you, I have to work. And so do you!”

“Your dad owns the place. You can get out of it,” Elsie says at the exact moment I blurt, “He does?”

“Co-owns, " she corrects, then adds, “He and a friend own it together. But he doesn’t handle the day-to-day running of things. That’s all Preston.”

“You know you can ask Preston to swap our shifts, and he’ll do it. It’ll be fun, right, Bear?” Elsie looks at me with a broad smile and hopeful eyes.

The thought of going out and partying this weekend with my new friends sounds exciting. And it beats staying inside doing nothing, which was my original plan.

My smile widens as I reply, “I think Elsie’s right.”

Elsie whoops in delight while Macy groans good-naturedly.

“I can already tell the two of you together will not end well for me,” Macy whines, though the smile in her voice is evident.

“You’ll be thanking us after a few Jell-O shots.”

“No, please, no. I learned my lesson at the last party.” Macy shudders at the memory as if she’s reliving the effects. “Bear, promise me if I get us off the schedule, you’ll make sure to rein Elsie in.”

Elsie snorts from the back seat. “Oh please, like your brother would even let us have a repeat of the one time it got a tiny bit out of hand.”

“Brother?” I ask, glancing at Macy.

“Twin brother,” she clarifies, not taking her eyes off the road.

“And he’s the biggest party pooper ever,” Elsie chimes in.

“Hayden is not a party pooper. He’s just more responsible than Ms. Jell-O shots over here,” Macy says, giving Elsie a pointed look. “And might I remind you, he was the one who made sure we both got home safely that night.”

I peek over my shoulder at Elsie. “Okay, no shots involving Jell-O, just normal shots?” I joke.

She giggles, shimmying in her seat. “That’s the spirit, Bear; I knew I liked you.” We spend the rest of the drive in high spirits, discussing the party and hashing out the details. When Macy stops outside my building, I say goodnight to both girls and head inside.

Outside my apartment, I hesitate before entering, unable to resist glancing at Levi’s door. My feelings are one big ball of confusion where he’s concerned. It’s unsettling and a reminder of why I should stay far away from him.

The ding of the elevator doors opening pulls me from my thoughts.

Shit. What if that’s him?

I want to see him again, but also, I don’t. I’m scared of what might happen if I let myself enjoy every crumb of attention he gives me.

Unlocking my door, I slip inside and lean against it. A few seconds tick by before I twist around to peek through the peephole.

Despite the distorted view, I can tell that it’s Levi. Strong jawline, thick black hair, muscular biceps—check, check, and check.

As he gets closer, I hold my breath in anticipation.

He walks past my door without so much as a glance in its direction.

I don’t know whether to feel relieved or disappointed.