Page 63 of The History in Us

“Excuse me.”

“Just…don’t tell them about me and don’t think I’d like to go back or see anyone from there ever again. It isn’t home to me and hasn’t been for a long time. I don’t need to go back.”

I noticed he hadn’t said want—it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see them, he didn’t need to see them. I was ready to argue the point, but the expression on his face told me the argument was finished. He wasn’t going to accept my invitation.

“Fine,” I muttered, turning back to my computer screen. I saw him in the reflection of it, though, as the light crossed the panel. He was still staring at his own screen, fingers no longer typing, eyes not reading. I couldn’t imagine all that haunted him, but I wasn’t going to press. He wasn’t going to tell me anyway.

* * *

An hour later, I stood to leave, my knees cracking from sitting cross legged. It was the only sound in the room after sixty minutes of silence. We’d only spoken occasionally to mention an idea or something we found.

“Where are you going?” Levi snapped, and I realized moody Levi had remained.

“I’m going home,” I said without looking up at him. I bent at the waist to gather my things. “I mean my apartment,” I clarified, sensing the use of home was the wrong word. Instantly, my hips were encircled, and I was tugged backward. I fell onto Levi’s lap, gripping the papers in my hands. Those too were tugged and flung to the opposite side of the couch. Warm lips came to the back of my neck.

“Don’t leave like this,” he mumbled and that strange sound of fear filled his voice.

“I’m not sure you want me to stay,” I offered, lowering my head, tempted to cover his arms with my hands, but unsure about where I stood with Levi. Two days, and we’d had no repeat of the other night. A tender kiss on my cheek, a subtle chin-nod in class, but no sign that what we’d done had even happened.

“I don’t want you to go.” I noted that wasn’t an admission he wanted me to stay, but I settled into his thighs and his hands lowered to mine. He swiped up and down, over my jeans, before separating my legs at the knees. My head fell back to his shoulders at the tender touch. He knew what he was doing to me.

“Levi,” I murmured, noticing AJ in his bouncy seat. A kiss came to my shoulder.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded. Hands covered the tops of my thighs and squeezed tight. It was the only hint I had that he wanted to repeat the other night.

“Later,” his tone promised.

* * *

“Playing house with him isn’t healthy,” Penelope commented while I stood next to her cutting vegetables a week later. She demanded a girl’s night in, and I couldn’t deny her. I’d been spending tons of time with Levi, but only recently had the nights been indescribable. Levi knew his way around a bed and I had much to learn. Luckily, I’d always been a fast learner and enjoyed my studies. While he was aloof in public, in private, he was slowly growing more attentive with soft touches and open kisses before AJ. But in the privacy of his bedroom, the real Levi Walker unleashed and free reign liberty was what he took from me. I didn’t complain. Not one bit, but I needed the night for a little breather. I didn’t disagree with Penelope.

“We aren’t playing house,” I laughed, nervously sensing we were. We ate dinner together, often me cooking his groceries. We spent time with AJ collectively, and people continued to mistake us for a family.

“This isn’t one of your fairy tales, Katie. This is real life.” The words were said softly, gently, but they pinched. Penelope was right. This wasn’t Nana’s playhouse where Gee and I pretended to be a princess and a knight. I would slay the dragons if he was good to me. This was reality, and I couldn’t slay the demons within Levi’s mind if he didn’t share them with me. On more than one occasion he’d grown quiet and reserved. His attention wandered, and I sensed he was miles from Chicago, crossing oceans, and buried deep in the desert heat. Other times, I’d seen the hollowness take his eyes. He’d become still and stare, questioning his surroundings. Even a tender touch to his face didn’t rouse him.

“I think he suffers from PTSD,” I said. “His life is far from a fantasy, Penelope.” Penelope stopped chopping and looked at me.

“That’s not what I mean.” Her voice grew gruff. “The two of you together isn’t healthy. He’s on the rebound, Katie. I’m sorry, but no man goes for the next girl, especially not with a baby.” I stilled with the knife pressed to the board. The words were harsh.

“You think I don’t know that?” I didn’t, actually. I wanted to live in my own naïve fantasy and I hated myself for it. I was the rebound. The transition girl. I was never going to be anything more to Levi. Unfortunately, he meant so much more to me.

Penelope shifted her entire body to stare at me.

“Katie Kat,” she said softly, but I shook my head. I didn’t need her sympathy for my stupidity. I’d been having the best sex of my life. The only true sex of my life and it was confusing me.

“It’s fine,” I lied, cringing at my own use of the words. I didn’t want fine. I deserved better.