Page 15 of Hero: Claimed

“Hero, please… you don’t want to be seen with me any more than I want to try to choke down breakfast with someone who can’t stand the sight of me.”

His gaze hardens and lightning quick, he moves, holding my chin, forcing me to look at him. “It’sLevi, Brin. Not kidding. Not backing down from this one. You call me ‘Levi,’ understand?”

“Yeah, got it.Levi.”

“Good. Now get dressed,” he outright orders me.

“I’m not going. I’m lying back down and sleeping until people forget I’m here.”

The covers begin moving down my body because he’s pulling them down. Then, despite my resistance, he tugs me from the bed. Dude is strong. “Get dressed or I’llget youdressed.”

“Please, God—leave me alone.”

“I’m not God, just Levi. And Brinley, not gonna happen. We’re hanging out.”

I step out from around him, well aware of my booty jiggling as I stomp over to the dresser to pull a pair of leggings and a deep jewel-toned sweater out of the drawer. I think the color is amethyst. It’s gorgeous with a cowlneck that drapes off one shoulder. I walk into the bathroom to change. He doesn’t want to see any of this naked.

When I come out, I’ve braided my hair in a cute fishtail and painted my face. He stares at me for a beat—just stares before he startles himself out of it and holds his hand out to me.

“Let’s go,” he says.

6.

Levi

I lead her out to the parking lot and hesitate for a moment, unsure if I’ll ever take her on the back of my bike, if I’ll have the courage to let people see her there. It doesn’t matter now. Perfect excuse to not even have to think about it —we’re heading into winter. Today the truck is the only option. She doesn’t wait for me to open the door once she sees which vehicle we’re heading toward, hopping in the passenger seat with the seatbelt buckled before I get in.

Dutchy’s on the gate this morning, rolling it open for us to pass through. Brinley switches on the radio, moving the dial until she hits a pop station. Instead of talking, she starts singing along with the song. Christ, I could listen to her all day. The woman has pipes.

Two songs she sings through as we make our way down the mountain, but I turn to head out of town at the bottom.We spend the next forty-five minutes driving frosty, back-country highways until we reach the place I want to take her to, which is two counties over.

At the end of that forty-five minutes we turn into the lot in front of Happy Pancake. The sign boasts fifty different pancakes and twenty-five different syrups. She hops out before I get to her. Though, I do manage to get the door to the restaurant before she does.The woman makes it difficult to be a gentleman.

It’s a seat-yourself kind of place. I direct us over to the back wall, far enough away from the doors so we don’t get blasted with cold every time someone comes through them.

Brinley orders a coffee with cream and stevia, whatever that is. Then she peruses the menu. Basically, doing whatever she can to avoid talking to me and it’s bullshit. If she’s not going to start a conversation, I will. “Whatcha getting?” I ask.

“Pancakes,” she answers flatly.

“Duh—which kind sounds good?”

“Don’t know, there’re like fifty to choose from and like twenty-five syrup choices.”

I bust out laughing. “Smartass,” I tease.

“I think I’m getting the sweet potato with the salted pecan maple syrup.”

Since she doesn’t ask what I’m getting in return, I offer it up anyway. “I’m going with the oatmeal raisin pancakes and the vanilla-cinnamon syrup.”

Looking up, she nods and sort of smiles. “Good choice. And healthy. Probably why you look like you do…”

“Nah, I pretty much eat what I want. Just lucky, I guess. Tell me, what do you like to do?”

The incredulous look she shoots pisses me off, but that’s not nearly as bad as her words. “Eat. Obviously.”

“Don’t do that. I’m sick of hearing you cut yourself down. This isn’t going to work if you keep that up.”

“Ha!” Brin raises her eyebrow at me. “That’s rich. You really think this is going to work?”

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