Page 161 of Never Die for a Sinner
“I know,” I whisper.
His eyes lock on mine, dark and unflinching, and for a moment I swear I see every wall he’s ever built start to crack.
There’s a softness there—raw, unguarded—that makes my breath hitch.
The tension shifts—still charged, but different now, sweeter and heavier all at once. He exhales like I’ve just knocked the wind out of him. His thumb traces the curve of my cheek, lingering before sliding down to the corner of my mouth. I kiss the pad of it, tasting the faint salt of his skin.
Levi leans in, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning over my lips. “Whatever happens, you’re not alone. You know that, right?”
My heart beats unsteadily in my chest, my mind at war with itself.
“When will you realize the same thing?”
I lean forward, pressing my body flush against his, while his hands roam. The movement draws a low, involuntary groan from his chest—one that vibrates straight through me.
He kisses me again, slower this time, deep and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second. My fingers thread into his hair, tugging just enough to pull another sound from him—half growl, half plea.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he mutters against my lips.
“And you like it,” I breathe.
He grins—sinful and tender all at once—before pulling me back into another kiss, one that feels like a promise and a warning tangled together.
AVA
My grandmother’s funeral comes on a bleak and snowy Wednesday afternoon.
The flurries from overhead do nothing but remind me that life moves on as I stand and look down at the casket in front of me.
My grandmother’s in that box. The vessel that used to hold the most important person in the world now sits empty.
She’s gone. At least that’s what they tell me. It just hasn’t sunk in yet.
When I got the call at three in the morning two nights ago, it woke Levi. I think he believes I’m losing my mind because I haven’t cried yet. I can’t.
I’m just . . . numb.
The cold on the outside doesn’t bother me. The cold on the inside doesn’t bother me.
Death has a funny way of showing us what our bodies can handle mentally. Grief is something I’ve never experienced to this magnitude, and yet, I feel nothing at all.
It’s a strange sensation. Knowing everyone is waiting for me to cry my eyes out, but not being able to shed a single tear.
I’m sure most think I’m heartless.
I’ve seen the whispers from my family. The people I haven’t spoken to in years.
Cousins, aunts, uncles, and God knows who else have gathered today, but there’s one person in particular I’ve steered clear of.
Rebecca Ryan stands across from me with a new boyfriend on her arm, as unfeeling as I am. She’s glanced at me one time, though she hasn’t said a word to me since I’ve been standing here.
We may as well be complete strangers standing in line across from one another in a grocery store.
That’s fine. She’s done nothing to deserve to be here, but who am I to play judge and jury for a woman who’s dead and doesn’t care anymore?
Still . . . I hate her.
Levi either doesn’t notice her or doesn’t care. He’s been quiet, standing beside me while they read off some pieced-together eulogy of my grandmother’s life.
