15. Greedy

I made it back from campus just as the sun was starting to set. I was anxious to get home—to check on Levi and to make sure Hunter was okay, too. The need to be with them—to keep an eye on them—had nothing to do with the pang of jealousy that twists in my core every time I recall Hunter bending down and kissing Levi this afternoon. That would be ridiculous.

All three of our rooms open to a shared second-floor balcony, and that's where I find the pair after dinner.

"Nice night." I shut the door leading from my bedroom, then amble toward the sectional couch where they're set up. A set of crutches is propped up near the French doors to Levi's room, explaining how he got out here without my help.

It appears that Hunter hasn't left his side since we got home.

Except now she's getting twitchy. She clearly doesn't want to be out here. Every few seconds, she adjusts her textbook in her lap and squints at the pages because of the soft lighting of the balcony.

She's restless, and she can't focus. She needs a break, and I'd bet she doesn't even know it.

Levi isn't helping.

He's scrolling on his phone, lounging with his leg up. He's too distracted to realize she's also distracted, desperately trying to get reading done or study for an upcoming exam.

"Tem," I call out, plopping onto an overstuffed chair and arranging the pillows.

She snaps up straight and hits me with an agitated look.

For once, I'm not the cause of her frustration. Or at least not the only cause.

"I'm in for the night. If you want to head inside to study, I've got this," I tell her, tipping my chin toward Levi.

He looks up, finally aware of my presence.

"Hey, man," he greets. Then he turns to Hunter. "Daisy, you've got to see this," he insists, holding his phone out to her.

She slams her textbook shut and quickly hops to her feet.

"I've got to study," she tells Levi, wearing an apologetic frown. Then she fixes her attention on me. "Text me if you need help getting him back inside or ready for bed."

"I'm right here," Levi huffs.

Hunter's expression softens. "I know. And I'm glad you are." She bends down and wraps him in a hug, squeezing him tight.

"Okay, okay," he insists with a laugh as Hunter finally releases him. "Why do you always smell so good?"

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "A lady never tells," she teases. "Although now that we're dating, maybe I'll have to share some of my secrets." She bends down once more and smacks a kiss to Levi's cheek, then turns to leave.

"Good night, boys." With that, she saunters to her room, hips swaying, and closes the door behind her, punctuating her exit with a soft click of the lock.

"Fucking hell," Levi says on a sigh. He slumps back, resting his head against the back of the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the balcony. "What a day."

Elbows on my knees, I grunt my agreement. "It's good to have you back, Leev. I missed you, man."

We lost touch, and not from lack of trying on my end. Once he took off for California, Levi sort of slow faded from my life.

It hurt, but mourning our friendship took a back seat to my efforts to piece together the details of Hunter's disappearance and her refusal to return my calls and texts.

"Look, G, I'm sorry we lost touch. And I'm sorry I haven't been home much—"

"Don't," I insist, dropping my head and letting out a breath. "You were my best friend. Still are, if I'm being honest. I know you're here under less-than-ideal circumstances, but I'm grateful we get a fresh start."

Levi presses his lips together like he wants to say more, but eventually, he nods.

"A fresh start," he murmurs, cracking the knuckles of each finger on his left hand, then the two that still crack on his right. It's a habit as familiar to me as any of my own.

His daddy smashed his right hand under the heel of his work boot when we were in tenth grade, and that hand never did heal properly. He played through the last few games of that season with his hand broken in multiple places.

Figures he didn't heed any sort of caution or rest when he got injured in California. Levi's been playing through pain his whole life.

"Are you going to graduate this year?" he asks, bringing my thoughts back to the present.

We have so much catching up to do. Now seems like as good a time as any to start.

"I could," I answer honestly, sitting back in my chair. "But I don't think I will."

He tilts his head and watches me, brows pulled low in consideration.

Levi is a great listener. Talking to him is as easy as breathing, and the connection between us has always been effortless. Even now, after years of silence and physical distance, I feel it as strongly as I did back then. I could tell him anything. I want to tell him everything.

"I have another year of eligibility, and I'd like to keep playing." I say it softly, because it's a truth I'm just starting to come to terms with myself.

I love football. I'm nowhere near ready to be done. And with the team we've been building, and so much of the depth chart consisting of sophomores and juniors, I'm jonesing to see what it'll look like next year. How far we could take it.

"Plus, I'm not ready to move on. Leave here and head to med school."

Understatement of the fucking year.

"Hunter showed up without warning a few months ago." I swallow past the lump in my throat that's been lodged there since the moment she returned. "Moved back in. Started taking classes."

"At South Chapel?"

"LCU," I amend with a scoff.

She could have received a full ride to South Chapel University. My dad sits on the board of the science and medicine college.

But Hunter does what she wants. Always has. Much as I hate to admit it, she probably always will.

"And she's doing okay?"

His question catches me off guard.

I sit up straighter, regarding the man before me.

I lost him the same week I lost Hunter. I always wondered if the two of them stayed in touch.

It wouldn't have surprised me. But his question confirms he doesn't really know the new Hunter either.

The three of us were inseparable that summer after high school.

I didn't know who I was when they both up and disappeared.

I always wondered if the loss was hard for them, too.

Or if I was the only one left feeling like my heart had been torn out, since I was the one who was left behind.

"I don't really know," I finally reply.

Some days—most days—Hunter is bubbly and vivacious, full of attitude and that sass I used to love.

But then there are the dark days. The silent moments. The nights when she slips into my bed unannounced and pleads for me to hold her. Or even moments like the one I walked into today, while she sat out here tied up in knots, so anxious she could barely sit still.

It breaks my fucking heart to see her like that. But I can't say I'm not grateful for the moments when she lets me in.

If that's the only way I can have her, I'll take it.

"She seems good. And she looks great," Levi muses, glancing at the double doors that lead to her bedroom.

Hackles raised, I lean forward. "About that." I clear my throat and wait for him to look at me. "I understand why she did what she did today. But you two pretending to date? That could cause issues. Be careful, Leev."

He bristles. "Careful how?"

"Don't catch real feelings for Hunter," I warn him. Then, before he can interject, I add, "She's mine."

His deep blue irises widen in surprise, then quickly narrow in what I assume to be challenge.

"Does she know that?" he asks, lifting his chin in defiance.

I don't blame the guy.

If Hunter grabbed my face and kissed me like she did to him earlier, I'd be smitten, too. That may be jumping to conclusions. I have no reason to suspect there's anything brewing between my best friend and my girl. But while we're here, while he's in my house, I'm laying down some ground rules.

"She's mine," I repeat, my voice thick and solemn this time. "And she knows it. She might not be ready to admit it, but she fucking knows it."

His glare holds more of a challenge than I expected.

Softer, I add, "It was only ever her, Leev."

He searches my face, like he doesn't get it. Like he's looking for the deeper meaning. But I'm not being purposely evasive. I have no shame. If he doesn't understand, then I'll come right out and fucking say it.

"She's the only woman I've ever been with. The only woman I ever intend to be with," I add, my damn heart clenching like it does every time I think about her. "It was only ever her."