My Kinda Song Read online

  “Oh, that’s gorgeous. You should get that too. The color is light enough that you won’t see it through the shirt,” she says holding up my purple top.

  “You think?” I ask, running my fingers along the coarse lace. “I’m not a fan of thongs, though.”

  “So, there are other styles,” she reminds me. One-handed, she starts digging through the different varieties and styles. “You’re not getting these,” she adds, tossing the ones similar to my normal style aside. “You’re gonna live a little. Oh, what about these? Payton says boy-cut shorts are the most comfortable panties out there. I’m partial to my thongs, but I have to admit, they do look comfy. Plus, they cover all of your bits and pieces.”

  “True,” I say, glancing at the delicate pair of panties. They’re lace in front and satin in back. There’s just enough material to cover my butt cheeks, which is important to me when it comes to panty purchases. Grabbing the pair she’s holding, because I know she already found my size, I head for the dressing room.

  Fifteen minutes later, we’re both heading out with a bag of our purchases (her bag bigger than mine). Across the way is the local body and bath store, so I follow behind until I’m inundated with a wild mixture of fruits and flowers. Part of me wants to get my standard flavor–it’s comfortable, you know–but the other part is daring me to be bold and try something new. AJ gets this sweet Asian scent that smells exotic and rich. I usually go for the vanilla or apple scents, but bypass those and head down to where she’s standing. The one that draws my attention has flowers on the front, but with a hint of something musky. It reminds me of Levi. No, not that he wears anything resembling flowers, but because of the deep, heady musk. A shiver runs through my body when I think about how good he smells. God, he could just finish with a run and I’d still want to slide my nose along his entire body, drinking in his scent.

  See what this stupid crush is doing to me? It makes me want to smell his sweaty body.

  But I can’t help feel that way, especially after our night together watching The Brady Bunch and eating crepes (which I finished off two days later). He was, I don’t know, attentive in a way he’s never really been. When our eyes locked, I swear the earth shifted or something. And when he touched my lip and licked off the goo with his own mouth? I almost orgasmed right there.

  We’ve texted or seen each other every day since and I still get this crazy feeling when he’s around. His eyes never leave mine, and I swear he’s all but drinking me in. The other night when he went to leave, I walked him to the door (like I usually do). When we got there, he did that thing again with my hair where he holds a strand of it in his big hands and sort of just feels it. His eyes were intense and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t even breathing. His forehead kisses linger longer, or at least they do in my mind, and I got the biggest panty-wetting smile when he finally headed across the hall.

  See? Confusing.

  “What’s got you all tied up in knots in your own mind?” AJ asks beside me.

  I contemplate on how much to say to her, but she’s my sister, and I tell them almost anything. “Levi.”

  She glances over at me, her eyebrow raised. “Go on.”

  Setting a bottle of lotion and body wash of my new scent in the basket with her stuff, I turn to give her my full attention. “None of this leaves us.” She takes her finger and makes an X over her heart.

  “Things are weird between us.”

  “Weird how?”

  “Well, not really in a bad way, but I might be reading the situation wrong. It’s not like I have a lot of experience with this kinda thing, you know? Anyway, it makes me wonder if our feelings for each other might be going deeper than friendship.”

  “You mean you both want to screw each other’s brains out?”

  “God, AJ, it’s more than sex,” I whisper. “And we’re not even…there. It’s more of this feeling I get around him. At first I thought it was a stupid crush, but then he started to look at me…differently. Like he wants to eat me for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

  “Oh, he wants to eat you, all right.”

  “Would you stop with the sex? I can’t even think about going there with him,” I tell her, even though I’ve thought about it a lot lately.

  “Okay, okay. So what’s the big deal? You’re friends who flirt? Maybe you should go out and see if anything more sparks.”

  “I can’t just walk up to him and say, ‘Hey, Levi. I know we’re friends and all, but would you like to take me to dinner so we can see if this crazy feeling I have when you’re around is mutual?’”

  “Why not? Girls ask out guys all the time. Hell, I ask out guys all the time.”

  “Yes, but you’re a vixen. I’m boring.”

  “You are not boring,” she says, as we walk to the counter and set our purchases down.

  “I’ve got this. We’ll call it the birthday present I haven’t bought you yet,” I tell her as I give the sales lady my credit card. “Anyway, I can’t do that. It would be weird.”

  “It would only be weird if you let it. Besides, how do you know that he’s not going to ask you out?” she asks as she takes our bags from the lady.

  And that’s when the panic starts to set in. What if Levi asks me out? Am I supposed to say yes? What happens if we go out and realize we’re only supposed to be friends? Do you know how hard it is to find real friends in this day and age? What happens if we ruin our friendship with one single date?

  “Whoa, cowgirl, slow your horses. I can practically see your brain hemorrhaging with worry. Don’t go there. Just relax and see what happens. I’ll be honest, I and all of our sisters think there’s something more than friendship brewing between you two.” I raise my eyebrow. “Oh, don’t act so shocked. You two were practically dry-humping in the mud a few weeks ago. Anyway, don’t let fear rule you, okay? You owe this to yourself and to him to give this a shot, if the opportunity arises. And I really do think it will. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride. Don’t get all tied up in your own head.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re all carefree and easy.”

  “I’m not that easy, despite what Lexi says,” she quips with a smile.

  And just like that, the conversation turns away from the seriousness of Levi and back into the familiar, laid-back feeling I always have with my sisters. There’s no stress, no worry, no deep thoughts; at least none that usually center around me.

  Just the way I like it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Levi

  My plan has been in place for a week now, and I’m really just getting into the execution phase. I’ve been spending time off and on with Abby, while still maintaining my work schedule and my band practice schedule. It’s Friday night and I’ve been thinking about what I want to do for the last several days. Time to put the plan into motion.

  Grabbing my phone, I shoot off a text.

  Me: Plans tonight?

  She responds right away, even though I know she has spent the day with one of her sisters.

  Abby: Big date with The Brady Bunch.

  Me: Not anymore. Be at my place at seven.

  Abby: Why?

  Me: It’s a surprise. No questions, no excuses. Be here. Wear something comfy.

  Abby: You’re so weird. Not even a hint?

  Me: You like my weirdness. Not even a hint.

  Abby: Fine, I’ll be there. How comfy? Yoga pants and a no bra kinda comfy? *winky face*

  Me: Whatever floats your boat, angel. Just be here.

  Abby: Seriously, how comfy is comfy?

  Me: Comfy.

  Abby: You’re completely impossible sometimes.

  Me: Another of my endearing qualities you love so much.

  She doesn’t reply for a while, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t watching for those little bubbles on my phone to appear. Just when I start to get a little sweaty, I finally see them.

  Abby: It’s more of a high tolerance because I’ve known you so long.

  I laugh, almost picturing
the way she’d smile at the phone while she typed that response.

  Me: I appreciate your high level of tolerance. Seven.

  Abby: I’ll be there. In my comfy clothes.

  Smiling, I set my phone down and throw on some running shorts. If I’m going to spend a few hours with my gorgeous best friend without touching her, I might as well burn off some of this excess energy and sexual frustration with a run. If I had my way, there’d be a lot more of the sexual part and less tension. But that’s not gonna happen. I’m bound and determined to do this right and not jumping into bed with her is key.

  Even if it kills me.

  After running, I end up calling Tucker and having lunch. We’re on the rig together this weekend, so I’m sure he’s fucking around today like me. Though, I doubt he has the same plans as I do tonight. Tuck’s more of a love ‘em once and leave ‘em kinda guy. You know, like I used to be.

  I meet him at the hotdog stand by the Bay, one of our favorite joints in town. It’s popular amongst residents and visitors alike. He’s already there, waiting in line to order when I arrive.

  “Hey, man. Watcha want? I’ll buy today and you can get tomorrow night,” he says as I step up beside him.

  “Three Chicago dogs and a bottle of water.”

  When our order is placed and we’re given a number, we head over to find an open picnic table. There’s someone at every one, so we pick a table with a couple on one end and take the other end for ourselves.

  “Big plans tonight?”

  “Abby’s coming over,” I tell him, kicking back and extending my legs beneath the table.

  “When are you gonna quit pussy-footing around it and just take her out on a real date?”

  “What makes you think I’m not leading up to that tonight?” I taunt him, my eyebrows raised.

  “No shit?”

  “Well, it’s not an official date, but it’s a start.”

  “So you just snapped your fingers and she fell in line?”

  “Fuck no. When has Abby ever just fallen into line?” I ask, really trying to think of an instance and coming up empty.

  “True. She’s always had you by the balls, man,” he says with a laugh.

  “We’ll just see how tonight goes, all right?”

  “I hear ya. Just be careful.” He gives me a straight, serious look. “I know she means a lot to you, and you’re afraid of fucking that up.”

  “Tell me how you really feel, Dr. Phil.”

  “Shut up. All I’m saying is go all in or not at all. That chick has always meant more to you than any other. Treat her right or you’ll lose her.”

  He isn’t telling me something I don’t already know. It’s weird to hear it come from another friend, though. I thought I had been doing a better job of hiding the foreign feelings I’ve had for her recently. Apparently, I’m a piss-poor actor.

  “I know. I can’t wait for something like this to happen to you one day,” I tell him, scarfing down my second dog.

  “Not gonna happen. Why settle down with one piece of ass when you can have as many as you want?” His smirk reaches from ear to ear.

  “Oh yeah, it’s definitely gonna happen. I can’t wait.”

  “Fuck you,” he retorts, throwing his empty wrapper at me.

  “Fifty bucks says you’ll be proposing by this time next year.”

  “You are off your rocker, dumbass. Ain’t no way in Hell.”

  “We’ll see,” I reply, giving my third hotdog my full attention.

  If only Tucker knew I’ve been watching how he interacts with Heidi, an ER nurse at the hospital. He tries to play it off as casual, but he’s not fooling me. His eyes are always seeking her out or they’re following her ass around the emergency department. The fact that he hasn’t slept with her is enough to prove my point. Tucker lives his life by his balls, and if he’s not sleeping with someone and the interest is there, that’s telling.

  Ol’ Tucker’s gonna go down hard.

  Soon.

  * * *

  Five ‘til seven, there’s a short knock on my door before it opens. Even if I hadn’t heard her enter, I’d know she was here by the way the room shifts and my body reacts. I’m already carrying a club in my pants and she hasn’t even entered the kitchen yet.

  “Hey,” she says as she steps around the corner from the front entry.

  “Hey. I hope you’re hungry,” I tell her, setting the rest of the silverware down on my kitchen table.

  “Starving,” she responds, setting her keys and phone on the counter. “Ever since I got your text this morning, my stomach has been growling.”

  “Well, I hope your stomach is impressed with dinner tonight. I’ve got salmon and vegetables on the grill and rolls in the oven.”

  “What’s this?” she asks, pointing to the tall cake pan on the counter.

  “Dessert.”

  “Yeah, but what is it?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “What is up with you and all this secrecy?”

  “It’s not secrecy, it’s a surprise. There’s a difference.”

  “If you say so.”

  “There is. One implies defiance or willingly withholding information. The other is only intended to temporarily withhold a detail with the intent of sharing. A proposal? Surprise. An affair? Secret.”

  “Nice examples, Mr. Morgan. So which are you doing tonight? The proposal or the affair?” she asks with a smile, but I don’t miss the way something flitters across her face.

  “Neither tonight, angel. Just dessert. And I promise you’ll find out soon. That’s why it’s a surprise. I have every intention of telling you.”

  “So what else is going on? This is an awfully fancy set up tonight,” she states while taking in the use of all of the utensils in the place setting.

  “I just wanted to treat my girl to a delicious meal to congratulate her on finishing another manuscript.”

  “I’m not actually finished, though. That was just the first draft,” she says, helping herself to the wine I keep in the fridge just for her.

  Reaching into the cabinet for the glass, I hand it to her. There’s no missing the way our fingers touch and sparks practically fly through the air. My entire body flares to life with that one little touch. It makes me crave her that much more.

  “Doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you,” I tell her, holding the glass while she pours.

  She takes a seat at the table, slowly sipping her white wine. Casual small talk is easy with her and tonight is no different. She asks about emergency calls I was on this week and tells me about the books she’s working on. Even when dinner is ready, we communicate and move side by side in the kitchen as if we’re an old couple who’s been married for twenty years.

  “So, I have to ask,” I say, stabbing my mushroom with my fork. “Are you wearing a bra under that shirt?”

  “What?” she asks, choking on her small bite of fish.

  “I’m just trying to determine what stage of comfort you’re in for dinner tonight.”

  “I’m not answering that,” she quips, trying to fight a smile.

  “What if I told you I’m not wearing underwear?” I fire back.

  Her laughter fills the room and my soul. It’s healing, a balm for all that ails me, just to hear her laugh. “I bet you never wear underwear,” she says, her face flushing a beautiful shade of fuchsia.

  Leaning forward, I whisper, “Would you like to find out?”

  Those green eyes darken with desire. There’s no denying it. This is why I know that taking the next step with her is appropriate. Even though she may not have said the words, it’s written all over her face and in her eyes. She wants me. That’s not being conceited or anything; it’s the truth. Her eyes don’t lie.

  Abby brings her wine glass to her lips and guzzles the cold liquid. “What if I said yes?” Ahhhh, playful Abby has come out to play tonight.

  “Did you say yes?” I ask, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

  We stare at
each other for several moments before she smiles. “Maybe some other time, big boy. I wouldn’t want that thing to fall out and land in your food,” she says, nodding towards the table, just above where my rock-hard dick is throbbing in my pants.

  “Maybe some other time,” I say, stabbing my fish with my fork and taking my time chewing.

  “Maybe.” When she takes another long drink of wine, I can tell she’s fighting a smile.

  After dessert of frosted chocolate brownies, I take her into the living room, where I already have one of her all-time favorite movies queued up. The Breakfast Club begins as I sit back and get comfortable on the couch. This time, when I glance over at her, her entire face is lit up like a Christmas tree.

  “You hate this movie.”

  “But I like you, so I’m willing to suffer through the mid-80’s detention drama for you.”

  Leaning back against the couch, she glances my way once more. “Thank you.” I just give her a return smile.

  “Here, turn and face me and put your feet in my lap,” I instruct, patting my leg.

  She laughs as she moves, placing her bare feet on my thigh. You thought my dick was hard before, you should see it now! Even her laughing at me can’t squash this massive boner.

  “What are you laughing at?”

  “This just reminds me of something AJ said earlier today. She went on a few dates with this guy who ended up with a foot fetish.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, he wanted to suck on them,” she tells me.

  Grabbing a hold of one small foot, I give it a gentle squeeze, using my thumbs to dig into the arch of her foot. Her loud moan fills the entire room as the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard. And I’m not even fucking her. Could you imagine if I was? Jesus, the noises I could evoke from this petite, sexy woman is enough to give me wet dreams for life.

  “Feel good?” I ask, my voice sounding deep and husky.

  “That’s amazing.”