Page 83 of Wicked Dares
“Yeah. Let’s go.” He walks on ahead, ignoring me.
I follow him because there’s no point arguing.
“I’m gonna be away for a few days,” he says, when we get further ahead. “If you’re out late, I want you to call one of my drivers to pick you up. I’ve told them to walk you to your door.”
I glance at him. He keeps his gaze ahead, but there’s a softness to his expression.
“Levi, you really don’t have to do that.”
“So you keep telling me. And you know what happens, right?” He turns his head and grins faintly.
“You do it anyway.”
“Hmmm-hmmm.”
Our eyes lock for a heartbeat. He looks away first.
“Going anywhere nice?” I risk asking, hoping he’s not going to tell me he’ll be off with some woman. It’s a stupid thought. I have no claim to him. He’s free to see whomever he wishes.
“Just a mindset day-trip, then I’m off to Japan for six days on business. I’ll meet you at Arthur’s beach party when I get back.”
It all sounds interesting, pieces of his world. “Have fun.”
“I’ll try.” He still keeps his gaze ahead. “Any luck with the office?”
“Yeah. There’s a building I really like. It’ll be available in a few weeks, but the owners are interviewing. I may not get it.”
“Have more faith in yourself, Butterfly.” Now he looks at me. It’s brief, but I catch a spark of that light I like lurking in his gaze.
We reach the lobby door. It’s propped open with a brick again.
Great. The doors still aren’t working, so anyone can walk in off the street.
What am I even saying? They already do.
Inside, the strip light over the mailboxes is buzzing. That must be broken, too.
It flickers in that sickly yellow way old fluorescents do, throwing the row of dented metal boxes in and out of shadow. The hum gets under my skin. I’m suddenly hyperaware of everything—the way my heels echo on the tile, the gritty crunch of something beneath my feet, and the cold trail of air that follows us.
We walk deeper into air perfumed with weed and stale beer. Levi takes it in without a word, but his jaw tightens.
There’s a group of guys by the stairwell passing something between them—drugs. I realized my suspicions were right the other day. One of them laughs at whatever the other one just said, but they go quiet as we approach.
I keep my eyes forward. Levi’s hand finds the small of my back.
We step into the elevator, and up we go.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding when we reach my floor and the elevator door opens. But the moment we step out, I sense that something’s off.
That weed and stale beer smell is here, too.
Most of the people who could be responsible for either live on the lower floors.
The smell gets stronger the closer we get to my door.
Levi notices something before I do and stops walking.
“Piper.”
