Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle #12)(36)

“I told you to leave!”

“I had to stay in case you fell.” He hooks a piece of hair behind my ear. “You’re so cute when you’re sore.”

“Eff that.” I push past him to the kitchen. “My ass hurts, Levi. Muscles I didn’t know I had are sore.”

“Okay, let’s do this.” He lifts me easily and carries me up the stairs, through the bedroom to the bathroom.

“I don’t have to use the bathroom anymore.”

Without a word, he fills the tub with hot water, and after he digs around under the sink, he finds some Epsom salts and pours a generous amount into the water.

He turns to help me take off my clothes, but I shake my head.

“I can do this.”

When I’m naked, and the tub is full, Levi helps me down into the water, and I let out a long, grateful sigh.

“Oh, this feels nice.”

“Soak for about twenty minutes,” he says. “Do you want some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

He nods and hurries out of the room, and I sit back and let the water and salts do their job. I feel better already.

My live shows are incredibly physical. I fly on wires and do aerial work. I dance my ass off. But none of that has ever made me feel this sore.

I move my legs up and down, stretching my calves in the hot water. Before long, Levi returns with a steaming mug.

“How’s it going?”

“It’s nice,” I admit and take the tea. “My legs feel better already.”

“Good. We’ll put you in another bath like this before bed. You should be much better by tomorrow.”

“I hope so. I want to go to the studio tomorrow.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to go with me to the gym again in the morning?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Hell, no. No way. You hurt me there.”

“It’s good for you.”

“Nope. I’d rather let Jax throw me on my ass.”

“That doesn’t sound fun to me either.”

“At least I can sit on the toilet unassisted the next day,” I say with a laugh. “But I will admit, I’m not as in shape as I thought I was.”

“You’re in excellent shape. It’s a different kind of shape. It’s okay that you’re not a muscle head.”

“Hey, you didn’t send me our picture.”

“Oh, right.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and taps the screen. “Sent.”

“Can I see it?”

He turns the screen to me, and I smile. “You’re so handsome. And buff. Look at those arms holding me up.”

“You’re just with me for my strong arms.”

“All the better for you to hold me with.”

“So I should continue working out?”

“Yes, please.”

“So noted.” He laughs and stands to leave the bathroom.

“Wait. How am I going to get out of here?”

“That sore, huh?”

“It hurts my pride to admit it, but yes.”

“Come on.” He holds his hand out for mine, and then pulls me to my feet, his eyes pinned to my body as he watches the water sluice down my torso.

“Like what you see?”

Without answering, he lifts me over his shoulder and carries me to the bedroom, not concerned in the least about the trail of water he’s leaving behind us.

“You’re getting everything wet!”

“I’m only interested in getting you wet.” He tosses me on the bed and starts stripping out of his own clothes. “Let’s see if we can rub those muscles and make them better.”

“Wrong muscles, loverboy.”

“Let’s just try anyway.”





Levi

I stretch and reach over to pull Starla into my arms. We start every night tangled together, but ultimately end up rolling away.

But when I reach over, I’m met with cold bed sheets.

No Starla.

I crack an eye and glance around. The room is bathed in grey light, the first signs of morning just starting to peek through.

She must be downstairs working. Most nights, she sleeps fine through the night, but once in a while, insomnia hits her. When it does, she usually goes to fool around on her piano.

I pad downstairs, but there’s no sound coming from the living room. No smells from the kitchen.

“Starla?”

I prop my hands on my hips and listen.

Nothing.

“What the hell?” I hurry back upstairs, my heart starting to pound in my chest with worry. I reach for my phone and dial her number.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Where are you?”

“I’m taking a walk by the waterfront. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Are you near Lady Liberty?”

“About a hundred yards, yeah.”

“Stay where you are.”

Before she can answer, I hang up and reach for a pair of shorts and a tank, then hurry out of the house, jogging down to the waterfront.

It’s not far. I glance up and down the sidewalk and see her sitting on a bench not far from the monument.

She smiles at me as I hurry to her, then frowns when she sees my face.