Page 50 of Hopeless Romantic
“When was the last time you saw mefeel? In case you haven’t noticed, me and the feels aren’t close. In fact, every mistake in my life came from the freaking feels.”
Annie laughed. “Maybe tonight, start with one of the easier emotions.”
“Emotions come in levels?” When had that happened? As far as Beckett knew, they were all equal-opportunity home-wreckers. Sure, she knew there were the big ones: love, hate, heartache. But misplaced happiness could create as much havoc in someone’s life as sorrow or anger.
“All I’m saying is try to go into tonight with the goal of having fun.” Annie’s voice was soft with understanding. “Can you do that?”
Beckett thought about leaving Thomas and Gregory in the ill-equipped hands of Jeffery and groaned. Jeffery said he’d handle things, that there would be no calls from home—and no calls to the cops. Then again, he’d said that before.
She hadn’t believed him then, and she didn’t believe him now, yet she was still willing to risk coming home to a disaster so that she could go bowling.
Why? She could have used her busy day as an excuse to wiggle out of playing. Annie was pushy, but she was also a good enough friend to know when to back off. Beckett could blame her earlier acquiescence on temporary chocolate drunkenness. But when it came down to it, she didn’t use any of those excuses, because she wanted to go.
She wanted to see Levi again.
Over the past several days, Beckett had worked hard to maintain perspective, limit her communication with Levi, and keep things professional. All she’d accomplished was adding to the anticipation of their next meet. Which, had she been given a choice, would have happened at a more convenient time, when she was dressed like an adult. Not last minute, while looking like a pizza delivery coed in an inside-out work shirt and day-old jeans.
Beckett swung her legs off the bed to look down at herself and smiled.
She’d already found matching socks—the hard part was over.
“I’ll try.” Those two words kickstarted her stomach into a spin cycle of nerves—the good kind. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so excited about going out. Usually, the stress of leaving overpowered the giddiness. Not tonight.
Tonight was all about fun.
Her doorbell rang. “Someone’s at the door. I’ll see you there,” she said. “Oh, and Annie, thanks for being such a great friend.”
“Back at ya.” Annie blew her a kiss and hung up.
“Dad, someone’s at the door,” Beckett called down the hallway, then slipped on her REALCOCKST-shirt. Annie had agreed it made her boobs look great, and when paired with her black skinny jeans and leather jacket, she looked old enough not to be carded.
Confidence bubbling, she added a little makeup—not so much as to appear that she thought this was a date, but enough that he would wish it was. Giving herself a once-over in the mirror and deciding Annie would approve, she puckered her lips, swiped on her tinted lip gloss, then decided it was too light and mixed it with another lip gloss.
She was about to wipe it off and start over when the doorbell rang again.
“Dad? Can you answer the door?”
Met with silence, she grabbed her purse and rushed to the front door. A little winded, she glanced through the peephole, and her breath stuck in her lungs.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” she whispered, going up even farther on her tiptoes to take in the hunk on her front-porch step.
Mouth dry, breathing a little heavily, she took in the sight of Levi, resting a hip against her porch rail, arms crossed to further define his already defined biceps and chest, and exuding enough testosterone to seep under the door and make her woozy. There were also the dark jeans that clung to his thighs, a crisp blue button-up that he hadn’t bothered to finish buttoning, and a really warm-looking coat that had her second-guessing her fashion-over-function leather jacket.
And if that wasn’t enough to have her wondering if she should open the door or hide in a closet and pretend she wasn’t home, there was that bad-boy grin, which always managed to make her stomach do silly little flips.
The man looked so at home in his own skin, it made her wonder what that kind of confidence even felt like.
Good lord, he must think she was a certifiable nut. First, she rewarded his sweet offer to help defuse The Cocky-Inquisition by screaming at him to leave—which had more to do with Pete being at her house than Levi. Then, too embarrassed to explain the situation, she’d ignored a good portion of his texts. And now she was spying on him through the peephole in an outfit that promised things she could never deliver on.
What was she even supposed to say when she opened the door? “Sorry I kept you waiting for ten minutes in the freezing cold while I applied lip gloss. I asked my dad to let you in, but he didn’t hear me. Oh, and by the way, in case you ever want me to play skipper to your captain, we’ll have to go to your place, because I live at home with my dad and sleep in my childhood bedroom.”
“If you’re angling for a better look, just say the word, and I can turn around,” he said.
Beckett leaped back, her hand over her mouth. How was it that despite being left to wait in the freezing cold, he was still flirting? And how was it possible that he could see her through a closed door?
She glanced at the mess behind her, then at herself in the mirror, before silently going up on her toes to peek through the hole again. Only a few seconds had passed, but he’d managed to look even better. In fact, the longer she stared, the hotter he became, and the more convinced she was that agreeing to go bowling had been a mistake.
“Your breath is steaming up the peephole, Girl Wonder.” His deep, sexy chuckle came through the wood door. “Are you going to keep me waiting out here in the cold all night?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “I’ve got a camping chair, a subzero-rated sleeping bag, and a box of granola bars. I’m good for the long haul.”
