Page 5 of Level With Me

“Wow. Thanks, man.”

“It’s in both of your best interests that you took this job, bro,” Ford reminds me. “So just do your best.”

“Ya. I guess I’m trying to find out what that looks like.” Because I’m currently not willing to settle. Part of me thinks I took this job just to be close to her. I’ve seen how she’s avoided me over the years—which is quite the feat in a small town—and I wish things were different. “For now I need to know if she can get over her hatred toward me.”

“She doesn’t—”

“She does.” I cut Ford off before we loop around into the same argument.

“Have you tried asking her?” Colter finally speaks up for the first time.

We’re all silent. Them because they’re waiting on my response. Me because I’m trying to think of a good one.

I clear my throat for lack of an answer.

“Yup. I’ll get right on that.” And then I can’t hang up fast enough to go and execute this novel plan.

Running up the basement steps ramps up my energy, and I call her name when I reach the main floor.

“Dakota?”

“I’m up here,” she shouts back, so I follow her voice all the way up to the second level.

I fly through the open door and tread across the carpet until I’m just a few feet away from her lush curves. I see she’s in sweats and a t-shirt with a messy bun on top of her head. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her dress this casually before, and damn, she looks good. Just so…touchable…unlike her usual surly self. “Hey. Can we talk?”

As to be expected, she gives me a weird look and scrunches up her face.

“Now?”

“Ya? Why not?” And that’s when my eyes assess the space we’re in. Her bedroom. Probably not the best place to talk, but hey, she basically called me up here.

“Okaaay—”

“I may as well just jump in.” She sideeyes the bed beside us, and my stomach knots. But I ignore it all. Now is not the time to be thinking about throwing her on there and eating her out. “No reason to beat around the bush” —damn, did I just say bush? Keep it moving— “since we uh…live together now. So here’s the thing. I’m just curious. Why are you so spicy with me?”

“Ex-squeeze me?” She props her hands on her hips and juts out one foot a few inches ahead of the other. I can see she’s still in some pain, though she’s trying to hide it. “I’m spicy? With you?”

“Ya. Like now.”

“Like now?” She mimics back incredulously while keeping her weight on the right side. I know what I did to her, but it’s been years. She can’t still be mad about it…can she? She should be thanking me.

“Ya. Like I took a bite out of you and now I’m sweating.”

“What?”

Ya. What? What did I just say to her? Her mouth is gaping and I swear her cheeks are blushing. For that matter, the tips of my own ears feel hot.

“I said I’m already sweating so much I need a shower.”

“Well,” she throws one arm out toward her shower, “since you’re so keen on showering in every space I own. You should just go for it.”

What I should do is let this go. Really, I came up here to talk nicely, but now that things veered off course so drastically, I may as well just let it go for now. But I don’t.

“Great.” I whip my shirt off and toss it to the floor. I can feel her eyes scanning my abs. I do not flex for that reason. I flex for a completely different reason. “That sounds great. That hose did not do the full job.”

I reach for the button on my jeans and she gasps.

Right. I’m not a total neanderthal. I unbutton them but don’t yank them off. And I’m pretty sure I feel her eyes on my backside for each of the ten steps that it takes me to get to the shower.