The Fall Up (The Fall Up, #1)(43)

“Levee—”

“Devon, I’m good. I swear. I know you’re worried, but there’s no talking me out of this. Now, please, just take Henry and go. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He stared down at me blankly for several beats before rolling his eyes and calling out, “Henry, we’re pulling out.”

Henry set the beer down and headed toward the door, pausing to give me a hug. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he shouted over his shoulder, “Night, Sam! Call me if you change your mind.”

I groaned.

Sam walked over, draping his arm around my waist, and called back, “Will do! Goodnight.”

As soon as the door clicked behind them, my whole body sagged. “God, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. That was…interesting.”

I laughed. Interesting didn’t even come close to it. But as I nervously peeked up through my lashes to get a read on Sam, he was sporting a huge smile.

“It was fun, Levee. Don’t look so worried. It’s going to take more than Henry Alexander trying to get in my pants to run me off.”

“I’ll make him quit. I swear. I’m not sure I can promise the same about Devon though.”

“Stop.” He folded me into his chest and kissed the top of my head. “You’re stuck with me.”

I breathed in deeply, praying that that was true.

“Let’s shower. You stink.” I tugged at his hoodie.

“Yeah, this thing is filthy.” He pushed me back a step and dragged it over his head. “Sorry, but there was no way I was coming back in half naked.”

“I can’t blame you there.” I giggled into his chest.

He glided a hand over my ass. “Hey, next time people show up at my door, clothing is not optional for you.”

“Oh, please. It’s just Henry and Devon.”

His other hand snaked into the front of my panties and through my wet folds. “Maybe. But this is mine now. No more peep shows.”

A moan escaped my throat, and it was only partially because the tip of his finger had dipped inside me.

“This is mine now.”

“Yes,” I breathed before his mouth landed over mine.





LEVEE AND I ended up taking a shower. Then she rode me until p.m. slipped to a.m. Neither of us was in any hurry to go to sleep, especially knowing that the next day was going to be our last for a while. But I reminded her as many times as possible that it was only temporary. She tried to argue that this kind of separation would be frequent in her line of work. I kissed her indecently every time she so much as started trying to talk me out of being with her.

There was nothing she could have said to change my mind.

Eventually, she gave up, and as the sun started to peek in my bedroom window, she nodded off in my arms.

Sleep never found me. Like a true stalker, I stayed awake watching her sleeping safely tucked into my side. Her legs were tangled with mine, and her arm was slung over my hips.

I hadn’t felt that kind of peace in as long as I could remember.

And it was going to f*cking suck to lose it.

But, when the alarm on her phone started going off, I released her, knowing she’d be back. I’d make sure of that.

With only a combined three hours of sleep between us, Levee and I slept wrapped in each other’s arms the entire five-hour drive to LA. When we arrived at the arena, Levee had Devon drop me off first. She was adamant that we not be photographed together, and while it stung, I understood. With an all-too-quick kiss, I was dropped off by the tour buses parked out back, where I met Levee’s band and backup dancers.

Simon, her guitarist, greeted me with open arms and stuck by my side. Apparently, Levee had called and put him in charge of babysitting me. He was a nice guy—they all were, actually. It wasn’t at all the rock-star feel I’d expected. For hours, I chilled on a bus, bullshitting with the members of her band and a few of their wives, and I was surprised to discover that one even had his three-year-old daughter with them. They were curious as hell about me, and I couldn’t even begin to count how many times I dodged the question of how Levee and I had met.

I’d checked my phone incessantly, waiting for a message from her, but nothing ever came. I assumed she was busy, but the fact that she was in the proximity made me edgy to be with her. I wasn’t going to be that guy though. She’d left me out back for a reason. I’d give her whatever space she needed to prepare for her show.

Finally, four hours later, the door to the bus opened and Devon informed me that Levee was asking for me. He handed me a small amp to carry, dropped a staff lanyard around my neck, and then led me to a roped-off side door. Fans huddled around the area, only glancing up long enough to deem me as unimportant.

We made our way through a maze of backstage hallways before finally stopping at an unmarked door.

Devon knocked and then took the amp from my hands.

“Come in,” Levee singsonged.

Disgruntled, he shoved the door open and silently motioned for me to enter.

My breath was stolen from my chest the moment our gazes locked. With her hair teased in the process of being done and heavy makeup covering her smooth skin, it was the first time I’d ever laid eyes on Levee Williams, the superstar. I recognized the brown eyes that stared back at me, but everything else was that of the woman who graced the pages of magazines.