“I meant what I said last week. I can’t be what you want, what you deserve.”
“Why’d you bother setting me straight if you just want to shut me out?”
“Because I’m selfish, Lindsey. Because I didn’t want you to assume the worst, despite knowing, in the end, the truth doesn’t make any difference.”
“It does make a difference.” I step closer to him, but he holds me apart.
“Stop it. Jesus, I can’t think straight when you’re so close. You throw me off balance. I can’t do this with you.”
His sad eyes take me in and then, despite his earlier protests, he unexpectedly drags me into a kiss.
His hands sink into my wet hair. Unlike our fiery kisses last week, this one is slow and sensual. This kiss has soul. It weakens my knees and my weight falls against him. I hear my own whimper before he pushes me away again. I’m dazed.
“Goddamn it.” He savagely rubs his hand through his mop of hair. “I can’t do this with you, Lindsey. Please go.”
“Why? Because of Rob?”
Levi’s face registers surprise, as if he’d totally forgotten Rob.
“No. Well, hell . . . partly, yeah. Lindsey, I don’t know how to be different from how I am. And you, you keep pushing me into uncomfortable territory, taking control away from me. I don’t like being powerless. I can’t let go, not even for you.”
“You can, but you won’t. This is because of your mother. You won’t try, because you’re afraid.” I’m treading on thin ice, but I must speak my mind.
“Leave my damn mama out of this. If it makes it easier to call me a coward, fine. The result’s the same, no matter the reason.”
“That’s bull, Levi, and you know it. You’re quite the hypocrite, telling me to cut the apron strings and stop basing my decisions on other people’s opinions, yet you won’t go to Atlanta to confront your mother and lay this thing to rest so you can move on with your own life!” I bark, realizing, too late, my slip about his mother’s whereabouts.
He, however, didn’t miss it. His eyes blaze.
“How’d you know about Atlanta?”
He’s white-hot mad. I can’t breathe or move. Time freezes.
“Lindsey, how do you know where my mama lives?”
My hand moves to my stomach and it seems like my knees are melting. Panic splits my voice when I speak. “I read the letter from your dad the day you were so sick.”
Levi takes two steps back and plows both hands through his hair. He squeezes the sides of his skull like he can shut out what he heard me admit. Seconds that feel like hours pass before his booming voice cracks open the air.
“I can’t trust you!” His eyes bulge in disbelief. “You came into my house, read a highly personal letter, and questioned—no, tested—me about my family when you already knew half the truth. You’ve lied to me every day since then.”
He starts pacing around in a circle with a scowl on his face, then stops suddenly and turns on me. The expression of disgust in his eyes makes me want to throw up.
“I thought you were different, but you’re not. Pop’s right about not being able to trust anyone. Thanks for the reminder—it’ll make saying good-bye a lot easier.”
His eyes turn cold. His hands are fisted at his sides. This is the Levi from Florida—the callous, closed-off man I first met.
My entire body starts trembling, along with my voice.
“Levi, wait. Let me explain. I was looking for paper to write you a note. I happened to notice the photos of you and your dad in the desk drawer. When I picked it up to see what you looked like young, I saw the letter underneath it.”
Shame swims through my veins and pours hot tears from my eyes. “I’m sorry. I know it was so wrong, but you’d never tell me anything and I just—I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t do it to hurt you; I did it to know you. I only wanted to know you better.”
I wipe my cheeks then step toward him, reaching out to close the distance between us. He jumps back and points at the door.
“Get out, Lindsey. I don’t want to see you or talk to you. I mean it. You need to leave. Right. Now.”
“I’m sorry, Levi. Please, don’t be mad.” My lungs burn as I break into a heaving sob, but it doesn’t budge him. He covers his ears with his hands and closes his eyes to block me out. Crushed, I turn and run out of the house.
Once at home, I fling myself onto the sofa and cry. A tapestry of little moments, not all of them pleasant, blend together in my mind and make me feel connected to him despite his attempts to loosen the binds. Ironically, my own behavior severed them, probably for good.