Page 107 of Between Never and Forever
“Oh. Um, yeah, I think so.” She looks at Red. “Have they given you the schedule for the day?”
Red nods. “Lunch should work. You film kind of late tonight.”
When Savannah looks back at me, I don’t miss the hint of excitement in her eyes.
“I don’t know the exact time for lunch, but if you’re going to be here, then you can just have her meet me at my trailer?” She points across the street. “They brought mine.”
I turn in the direction she pointed, then look back at her.
“Remember what I said. Don’t venture off set. Stay within the barricades. I don’t wa—”
“I know, Levi. No paps. No photos. No association with big, bad Sav Loveless. I got it.”
We stare at each other for a few breaths. Her eyes are hard, giving nothing away, and I’m working to make sure mine match. When I feel my skin start to heat under the pull of her attention, I break eye contact. I take my hat off, run my hand through my hair, then put my hat back on. I give the dog one last head scratch, give Red one last nod, then address Savannah one last time.
“She’ll see you at lunch, Ms. Loveless.”
I turn to leave, but she’s always liked to fight for the last word.
“How’d a straightlaced Pastor’s kid end up such a grumpy dick, Cooper?”
I turn and look Savannah over one more time.
What do I tell her? That she broke my fucking heart, and my pile of shit just keeps getting deeper? Do I tell her I’m jaded and guarded and she’s part of the reason why?
No.
“Loss will do that to you,” I say flatly.
Then I turn and leave.
26
“This house is fucking insane,”I say to Red as I step into my trailer for lunch.
“The kitchen looks exactly like the one at the studio, first of all, and the view from the deck is just yard, then beach, then water. I guess it’s not technically the ocean. It’s the mouth of the river before it connects with the Atlantic, but the guy who owns it must be some sort of millionaire.”
I throw myself down on the barstool and pull one of the lunch containers toward me, flipping it open to find some sort of green salad that smells of pepper and vinegar. I grab a fork, spear a piece of lettuce for a test bite, and shove it in my mouth. It tastes good, so I eat as I chat.
“I wanted to snoop around but we’ve been busy as hell, and then I didn’t want to miss the kid, so I hustled back here when they called break.”
I shove another forkful of salad into my mouth as Red steps up next to my stool and sets a white box in front of me. It’s got Ziggy’s name on it.
“This was at craft services,” he says. “Dakota told me to bring it back here.”
I set my fork down, then pop open the box to find six of the most delicious-looking blueberry muffins with streusel topping. They smell divine, and immediately my interest in the leafy green salad disappears.
“Oh my god,” I say, pulling out a muffin and taking a bite.
I hum and tilt my head back while I chew. It’s so damn good. Ziggy whines, so I reluctantly break a piece off for her. The box did say her name, after all.
“Did I ever tell you about the blueberry streusel cake?” I ask Red as I take another bite.
He shakes his head no, so I plow forward.
“The town where I grew up—well, the town that I lived in until I was fifteen and ran away, I mean—there was this horrible old lady, right? Just awful. She hated me with a passion, but most people in that town hated me, so whatever. But anyway, she made this amazing blueberry streusel cake. She’d bring it to all the town functions. Bake sales and fish fries and town hall meetings. Anytime there was some sort of event, I’d sneak in just to get some of her blueberry streusel cake.”
I pop another piece in my mouth, then take a sip of water before continuing.
