Page 18

This is not a date.

I repeat the sentence to myself for what feels like the hundredth time. I said it while curling my hair into beachy waves, then again as I spent an agonizing amount of time deciding what to wear, and now, as I check my appearance one last time in the mirror.

The butterflies remain, their tiny wings fluttering so much that I feel sick with nerves.

“This is a casual business meeting about the project, Bear,” I say aloud, hoping it'll be easier to believe if I speak it into the universe.

Nope. Flutter, flutter, the butterfly wings go.

Ugh.

I grab my bag and a notebook, because every business meeting needs one, and wait for Levi in the living room.

His hoodie is folded neatly on the coffee table. Tonight it’s getting returned.

It still faintly smells like him when I pick it up, a mix of sandalwood and fresh apples. Spicy and sweet. Which is ironic, considering that's exactly how I would describe him. It smells good enough to make me want to bury my nose in it one last time.

Embarrassment still lingers when I think about him seeing me in it. I have no idea why I wore it to his practice on Thursday. My only excuse is that my brain wasn’t fully awake when I threw it on.

Oh, and let’s not forget that I didn’t even know he was on the team! Or that I had somehow convinced myself I was attending an all-girls swim practice.

God, what a train wreck.

It doesn’t matter anyway. This is where we are now, and the only thing left to do is make these next three months as unproblematic as possible.

When the doorbell rings, I give myself a quick pep talk to calm my nerves.

Opening the door and seeing Levi standing there makes my traitorous stomach dip, just like it does during takeoff when I'm flying.

Why does he have to look so good?

I grip the doorknob tighter. This would go so much more smoothly if he resembled a troll.

“Wow,” Levi rasps, running a hand through his hair. “You look beautiful.”

Heat blooms in my belly at his compliment, and I fight a smile but lose the battle quickly.

“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself, Whiskey Eyes.”

His smile grows at the nickname, and I’m transported back to the night I first said it to him. Of course, now I’m thinking about what happened in my bedroom, aaand we’re officially off track.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Should we get going?”

“After you.” He steps aside and gestures for me to go ahead.

“Oh, how was your swim meet yesterday?” When the question leaves my mouth, I realize it’s not just small talk. I genuinely want to know how he did.

“It wasn’t an official meet, just a friendly, so there were no winners or losers, but between the two of us we smoked the shit out of them.” He winks.

His mood is infectious, and the nervous energy I felt earlier begins to fade. “Do you compete as a team or individual?”

“Technically, both,” he answers.

“What does that mean?”

“Well,” he explains, pushing the button for the elevator. “I won my heat yesterday, which is the technical term for a race. But there’s also the team aspect to it.”

When the elevator stops on our floor, we step in, standing side by side. As we start to descend, Levi continues.

“Individual times are added together to determine how the team did overall. But that’s more for school ranking than anything else.”

“So, being a better team makes you more competitive?” I ask, ignoring how his bicep brushes against my arm or how his cologne fills the tiny space, assaulting my senses in the best way possible.

“Exactly. You catch on quick, Teddy Bear.” He flashes me a grin, and my cheeks warm at his praise.

Levi’s hand appears on my lower back when the elevator doors open. Leaning into it is instinctive; I don’t even realize I’ve done it until my brain catches up moments later.

Instead of heading toward the parking lot, he guides me to the front entrance. I shoot him a questioning look.

“The restaurant isn’t too far,” he says, answering my silent question. “I thought we could walk if you’re fine with that?”

“Sure, I don’t mind.”

Levi falls in step beside me, and when his hand brushes mine, sparks shoot up my arm. I glance his way to see if he felt it too, but, as usual, his face gives nothing away. Chalking it up to my imagination, I let it go.

Business meeting, Bear.

Except, it happens again. This time, his pinky locks with mine, and I let it. It feels too natural and, dammit, really nice.

Levi doesn’t comment on it, and neither do I. We let it be, and I’m grateful for that.

We chat about swimming during the short walk to the restaurant, and he shares stories about his teammates. I enjoy listening to him talk.

Not only is it admirable how hardworking he is while still keeping up with his classes, but it’s obvious Levi has a strong passion for the sport. And there’s something so attractive about a man dedicated to something beyond himself.

All Hunter cared about was, well, Hunter. He had no routine or ambitions, which might explain why his attention eventually started straying to places it shouldn’t have.

Our pinkies slip apart when we stop in front of a set of glass doors with Cedar Grill and Lounge printed on them.

“Sounds pretty fancy for a business meeting,” I joke.

A ghost of an emotion flickers across his face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

“Fine, confession.” He puts his hands up in the air, palms facing me, with a grin. “Steak and broccoli is my favorite meal. No one does it better than my mom, but this place is a close second, so it’s my go-to whenever I have an excuse to go out.”

“And how many excuses have you had?” I inwardly groan.

“I mean…I’m not accusing you of being a serial dater or anything, not that this is a date.

But you know—uh, never mind, forget I said anything.

” I press my lips together before my blabbing gets me into a deeper hole than I’ve already dug for myself.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me.

Clearly, I’ve dropped my brain somewhere between here and the apartment.

Levi watches me with an amused expression. “You’re the only other person I’ve brought.”

Clearing my throat, I push past the embarrassment and get this night back on track.

“I’m excited to try the food,” I say, pushing the glass door open before he can do it for me.

The hostess seats us at a table set for two at the back of the restaurant and hands us menus before she leaves. Not long after that, a server stops by to introduce himself and fill our glasses with water.

Once he’s gone, I take out my notebook and pen. “So, about this project.”

“Ah, business already?” Levi teases, and even though it’s at my expense, I’m glad the awkward slip-up from outside didn’t follow us inside.

“That’s what we’re here for, right?” I smile, clicking my pen.

“Right,” he echoes.

It’s almost too easy to get sidetracked around Levi, and I’ll have to make a conscious effort to keep that from happening.

I give him a quick overview of the project and how he fits into it, stopping only briefly when the server refills our drinks and takes our orders.

"As you can see, we'll be spending some time together over the next few months. I'd like us to at least try to be friends." I settle back in my chair, satisfied with the speech I rehearsed earlier while getting ready.

When he remains quiet, I fiddle with my pen, worried my word vomit is making him have second thoughts.

“If you’ve changed your mind about volunteering for this, I’d understand, but it would be better to say it now while there’s still time to find someone else,” I say, giving him an out if he needs it.

He stares at me from across the table, his expression far too serious for our conversation.

“No, trust me, I’m all in.”

“So, you’re fine with everything I just said?” I press.

“For the most part,” he replies, straightening the cutlery on the table.

“What does that even mean?”

“Nothing.” He glances up and smiles. “Tell me what the next steps are.”

We’re interrupted when the server arrives with our food. Levi ordered the steak and broccoli with a double heaping of mashed potatoes, and I went with the classic salmon and vegetables. Everything looks delicious, and Levi digs in immediately.

Watching him devouring his meal like he hasn’t eaten in days is amusing. Noticing my attention on him, he stops, and I swear a blush creeps up his cheeks, but with the low lighting, it’s difficult to tell.

“Sorry, swimming burns a lot of calories.”

I wave off his apology, still smiling. “You don’t have to apologize. I don’t think I’ve seen someone so happy over a piece of meat.”

I watch him cut off another piece, the knife gliding through the tender steak. But instead of bringing it to his mouth like I thought he would, he points it at me.

“Here, try this piece, and you’ll see why.”

I stare at the fork for a beat. Quickly deciding that overthink this is silly. I lean in closer, wrapping my lips around the fork. A fork that was in Levi’s mouth only moments ago. The thought sends heat blooming in my lower belly.

He watches me with hooded eyes, his gaze never wavering from my mouth. I chew slowly, savoring the taste.

His voice is a low rasp when he asks, “How is it?”

Eating a piece of meat should not feel this erotic, yet I can’t ignore the way my thighs are squeezing together under the table.

“It’s good,” I answer, hating how breathy my response is.

I take a sip of water to cool myself off and allow my brain to focus on something other than Levi or the pulsing between my thighs.

My notebook and pen rest beside my plate like a giant warning sign. Whatever weird spell we are under breaks as the yellow smiley face on the cover stares back at me.

“I have a few questions I’d like to ask,” I say, redirecting us back on track.

“Sure,” he dabs his mouth with the cloth napkin. “On one condition, though.”

“What?” I lift a brow, wondering what he might want from me.

“For every question I answer, you answer one, too.” He says, spearing the last piece of broccoli with his fork.