Wrong for Me Page 5

  Annoyance crossed Gideon’s face. “What plans?”

  Levi shifted on his feet. He didn’t want to disappoint Gideon, but Levi had waited a long time for this, and he wasn’t going to wait anymore. And he certainly wasn’t going to give the other guy an in-depth explanation as to what exactly those plans involved.

  Still, if Levi was going to blow off a party his friends had organized in his honor, he needed at least a plausible excuse.

  “Been a long time since I got laid,” he said. “You know what I’m saying?”

  Something Levi couldn’t read flickered through the other man’s gaze, then Gideon’s expression relaxed. “Yeah, that I can understand. What about we make the party earlier then? It was Zoe’s idea, and she’ll be really disappointed if it doesn’t happen, plus Zee and Tamara were looking forward to catching up with you.”

  Well, Levi hated to disappoint Zoe. And it would be good to talk to the others, to socialize like a normal person for a change. If he could still remember how.

  “In that case, sure,” Levi said. “Sounds great.” He could delay his reckoning with Rachel for a party. Especially if it made his friends happy.

  “Damn straight.” Gideon bent to pick up the wrench. “Don’t forget we look out for one another, man. Always have; always will. We’re family.”

  Once Levi had found that reassuring, especially as a boy whose only family had been a broken-down, alcoholic father, a man who, after he’d been made redundant from his job, had discovered he loved a whisky bottle more than his own son.

  But things were different now.

  Levi had learned a few things while he’d been in jail. Mainly that family was all very well, but when it all turned to shit, the only person you could count on was you.

  He didn’t need anyone to look out for him. He was better off on his own.

  Always had been. Always would be.

  Chapter 4

  Rachel was sitting on the couch in Sugar Ink’s waiting area, leafing angrily through a magazine, when Xavier dumped the espresso he’d gotten from Mike’s, the café next door, onto the low table in front of her.

  “Here,” he said. “Now, are you going to tell me what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  Reaching for the coffee, she held it in her hands, letting the heat seep into her palms. Not that she needed any more heat because God knew she felt like she was burning up with anger already.

  “Nothing I want to talk about,” she said curtly.

  “Rachel.” Xavier sounded irritated. “You’ve been snapping at clients all day, and I bought you a fucking coffee. Come on, out with it.”

  Xavier was the other tattoo artist she worked with, and he was a great guy—except when it came to asking her what the matter was when she didn’t want to tell him. He could be a persistent bastard too when he wanted to be.

  She sighed and leaned back on the couch, taking a sip of the coffee.

  Xavier, pierced and tattooed, and wearing a tight black tank, low-slung jeans, and a pair of dirty red Chucks, was standing on the other side of the table opposite her, his arms folded. He had red, orange, and yellow flames licking up each of his forearms, the colors standing out beautifully against his dark skin.

  Not as simple or as clean as Levi’s rings.

  The thought irritated her, and she found herself scowling.

  What the hell was she going to tell Xavier? Because if Levi ended up kicking her out of the building, then that was going to affect her friend too. And it would be a damn disaster since neither of them could afford new premises. It would pretty much mean the end of Sugar Ink.

  Her stomach lurched.

  She’d worked hard for her studio in the years since Levi had been gone, and she couldn’t let it go just like that. Then again, keeping it meant she was going to have to give Levi what he wanted—unless she could think of an alternative to offer him. An alternative to herself.

  Rachel took another sip of her espresso, caffeine buzzing in her veins, the hot liquid burning her mouth.

  “Levi’s back,” she said, keeping her gaze on her magazine. “I saw him this morning.” Xavier hadn’t met Levi, and he didn’t know how difficult things were between them now, but Xavier did know that they’d once been friends.

  “Holy shit,” Xavier muttered.

  “Yeah, you could say that.” Rachel hesitated, then looked over at him. “He told me he owns this building.”

  “Okay.” Xavier lifted an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

  It wouldn’t be if Levi weren’t using the building in question as leverage for a twisted kind of payback. Or punishment. Or whatever it was he was trying to get from her.

  I want you, Rachel Hamilton. . . .

  Rachel looked away again, her stomach lurching even more. Which was crazy and weird. It was only sex, after all.

  And it’s not the first time you’ve used it to save yourself.

  Unease twisted in her gut, a long and deliberately forgotten fear. She pushed it aside. God, what had happened with Evan had been years ago, and she’d long gotten over it. So maybe her odd feelings about Levi’s demand now were due to the fact that he’d once been her friend, and so it was strange to think of him as a lover. Plus the fact that she hadn’t had sex in a while. Years even.

  But that was only because she wasn’t into casual hookups, and, as for relationships, well, she was happy being on her own, relying on no one but herself. She didn’t want some other person to have power over her, to own her.

  Maybe one day, when her business was doing well and things were more stable, she’d be ready, but not until then.

  And certainly not with Levi.

  “It’s not a problem, no,” she finally said.

  But she couldn’t have sounded very convincing because Xavier frowned at her. “Fucking liar, Hamilton. I’m not going to get you coffee again if you’re not going to be straight up with me.”

  Rachel cursed silently. Xavier was a good guy, loyal and generous, not to mention a great artist. He had a dedicated client list, people who couldn’t get enough of his designs, plus contacts throughout the rest of Detroit who brought yet more clients from all over the city and beyond. He was a vital part of her business, which meant she probably needed to tell him the truth.

  Bracing herself, Rachel drained the rest of her espresso and put the cup back on the table with a click. “Okay,” she said, glancing up into Xavier’s deep brown eyes. “Here’s the deal. Levi wants me to do something for him, and he basically told me that if I don’t do it, he’ll kick us out of the building.”

  Xavier’s frown deepened into a scowl. “What the actual fuck? Where is he? I’ll get a friend of mine to—”

  “It’s not like that,” Rachel interrupted. “I . . . fucked up.” She let out a short breath. “I’m kind of the reason he’s been in jail all this time, and he’s really pissed about it.”

  Usually Xavier was pretty chill, calming clients’ nerves with a laugh or a wicked grin. But now his strong features were set in grim lines, his expression forbidding. “What is this ‘thing’ he wants you to do?”

  Oh, great, she definitely didn’t want to tell him that. “You don’t need to know.”

  “I fuckin’ do.”

  “He won’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” At least he wouldn’t hurt her physically, that much she knew for certain.

  Xavier’s expression darkened even further. “That’s not the issue. He’s blackmailing you.”

  Well, it was blackmail, no point prettying it up. “Doesn’t matter what it is,” she said tautly. “If I don’t do it, Sugar Ink won’t have a home.”

  Xavier moved, the chains on his belt jingling. “Fuck that. I know some people. I can get him to change his mind.”

  She knew what Xavier meant. The “people” he knew were linked to various underground crime organizations for whom intimidation was a specialty. They came to Xavier for his designs, and sometimes they didn’t pay, promising certain “favors” instead. Rachel
never knew if Xavier ever took them up on those favors, but the fact that he trotted his connections out now made her wonder.

  But Rachel wouldn’t use Xavier’s shadowy contacts against Levi. Sure, her ex-friend was being the world’s biggest asshole, but there was no way she was going to screw up a second time and get him hurt.

  “No.” She said the word with as much certainty as she could muster. “That’s not the answer.”

  “Seriously? If he’s blackmailing you, then—”

  “He’s got a right to it, Xavier.”

  “A right?” The other artist scowled. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  Rachel sighed, trying to find the right words to explain and failing. Mainly because it wasn’t something she could even explain to herself. “I only meant that he’s got a right to be angry with me. I wasn’t much of a friend to him when he needed me to be, so . . .” She lifted a shoulder. “I know why he’s angry, and, if I were him, I’d probably do the same thing.”

  Except she wouldn’t make it about sex the way he had.

  Are you sure about that?

  The stud in Xavier’s eyebrow glittered in the summer sun coming through the windows, reminding her uncomfortably of Levi’s own eyebrow ring. A reminder of what happens when people fuck with me. Then his mouth on hers, burning hot . . .

  Heat prickled over her skin, and she had to look away, back down at her phone that was sitting beside her empty espresso cup on the table, checking the time blankly.

  Jesus, these feelings . . . Wherever they were coming from and why, she didn’t want them.

  “So what?” Xavier demanded. “You’re just going to let him do whatever it is he’s going to do?”

  I want you. In every way there is . . .

  A shiver went through her, bone-deep, but she didn’t want to acknowledge that either. What she wanted was for this to be over, one way or another. But the simple fact was, there were no alternatives to what Levi wanted, not when what he wanted was her.

  In that case, you know what to do, don’t you?

  She supposed she did. And hell, why not? If he wanted a couple of rounds in bed, it wasn’t a big deal. She’d get over the weirdness of banging her friend, and he’d get whatever it was out of his system, and then they could both move on with their lives, no harm, no foul.

  Certainly better than her business going down the damn toilet.

  She stared at her phone for a long moment, letting the decision settle down inside her, and, strangely, along with it came a certain kind of relief.

  Yeah, it was time to stop avoiding Levi. It was time to face him. Time to pay whatever it was she owed him. And if that meant sex, it wasn’t like she hadn’t had demands placed on her like that before. It wasn’t as if this would be different.

  Different than Evan?

  No, Jesus. She really needed to stop thinking of Evan.

  “I’ll talk to him,” she said carefully. Telling Xavier that she was going to do whatever Levi demanded was probably not the best idea. Xavier was very protective of her and Sugar Ink, and she didn’t want him getting into any confrontations with Levi, especially given how different Levi was now.

  She had a horrible feeling that it wouldn’t be Levi who’d end up getting hurt.

  At that moment the door opened, and a small, slender woman in black jeans and an oversized black T-shirt came in, her thick, curly hair neatly tied back in a ponytail at her nape.

  Xavier’s grim expression eased. “Hey, pretty,” he said.

  Zoe pushed her glasses back up her nose. “What’s up, Xavier?”

  “The sky. Clouds. And the sun. Usually.” Xavier always did like to tease her.

  Zoe frowned and wrinkled her nose. “Dick.”

  He laughed. “What? I was trying to be funny.”

  “And failing.” With a dismissive sniff, Zoe glanced at Rachel. “This party tonight. Gideon’s having it early because apparently Levi has some ‘stuff’ to do.”

  Ah, yes, the homecoming party for Levi. Gideon had texted her earlier about it.

  “Yeah, okay,” Rachel said. “I told Gideon I’d be there.” The “stuff” Levi had to do was probably going to be her.

  Zoe wandered over to the couch and sat down beside Rachel, her hands on her thighs, large golden eyes owlish behind the lenses of her glasses. “How are you doing?”

  Rachel sighed inwardly. Of course Zoe would be worried for her. Zoe worried about everyone. Conscious of Xavier’s gaze, Rachel gave the younger woman a smile. “I’m okay. Honestly, Zoe.”

  Zoe’s forehead creased. She opened her mouth to say something, and then, obviously realizing that Xavier was still there, gave him an annoyed glance. “A little privacy please?”

  He grinned. “Oh, come on, chick conversations are the best kind.”

  Their banter was familiar, usual, and Rachel was tempted to stay silent and listen to them to get her world back and revolving on its axis again. Not to mention that she wouldn’t have to answer any of Zoe’s well-meaning but likely highly irritating questions.

  But then one of Xavier’s clients turned up, and Xavier was soon deep in conversation with the guy about some design or other. And there was no away to avoid Zoe’s questioning look, at least not without being a complete bitch.

  There were plenty of people she had no trouble being a bitch to, but Zoe wasn’t one of them.

  “It’s really okay,” Rachel said after a moment. “Levi actually came after me earlier, and we talked it out.” Which was kind of the truth.

  The worry on Zoe’s face eased. “That’s good. I don’t mean to pry. I know you don’t want to talk about it. I just like to know you’re okay.”

  Rachel gave the other woman a smile. Zoe was shy, but she had a fiercely protective streak—much like Gideon. It was endearing, if irritating, at times. “Well, I am, so stop worrying, okay?”

  Zoe looked down at her hands, now clasped in her lap, and Rachel got the distinct impression that it actually wasn’t all that okay. “Levi’s different,” Zoe said quietly. “He scares me.”

  Unfortunately, Rachel knew exactly what the other woman meant. “You can’t expect him to be the same guy after all that time in prison, Zoe.”

  “Yeah, I know. I don’t mean I think he’d hurt me, it’s just . . . he seems so much harder. Like he’s lost something.”

  Rachel wanted to close her eyes, because she knew what Zoe meant by that too. “He’ll get it back,” she said, trying to sound like she believed it. “We just need to give him some time to adjust.”

  “That’s what Gideon said. But I think he was lying.”

  Rachel gave Zoe a look. “What do you mean he was lying?”

  “I mean I don’t think he believed it himself.” Zoe paused. “I think Levi worries Gideon too.”

  It went without saying that if Gideon was worried, then Zoe was worried for Gideon. Mainly because the younger woman had a painful case of hero worship that didn’t seemed to have waned over the years Rachel had known her. A worship that Gideon appeared to be utterly oblivious to.

  “It’s kind of understandable,” Rachel said, trying to be soothing, which didn’t come naturally to her. “Levi went through a lot in prison; Gideon knows that. But I’m sure it’ll get better over time.” Empty words. Pity she didn’t believe them.

  Zoe’s expression was measuring. “You’re scared of him too.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Not like that. I know he won’t physically hurt me either.”

  “But that’s not why you’re afraid, is it?”

  Rachel had to look away. Zoe was a good friend, but even so, Rachel didn’t want anyone to see the truth of what Levi made her feel. Didn’t want to have to explain it, especially when she didn’t quite have the words for it herself. “No, it’s not,” she said merely. “But I’m sure that’ll get better too.”

  Another thing she didn’t believe.

  “He’s so angry.” Zoe’s voice was quiet. “Is it because you never went to see him?”

>   Rachel’s throat felt suddenly tight. None of the others had ever asked her for the reasons why, and she’d never offered them, because after all, no one liked admitting to cowardice. She didn’t particularly want to admit it now either. So all she said was, “Among other things.”

  “But you’ll sort it all out, won’t you? I mean you and Levi. You’ll get back to being friends again soon.”

  There was such hope in the words that it made Rachel’s chest ache. “I’m sure we will, Zoe.”

  But Rachel didn’t believe that either. Because whatever friendship Levi and she had once had was dead and long gone.

  And it was never coming back.

  * * *

  Levi sat on one of the battered metal chairs in Gideon’s garage, a beer in one hand, trying to relax and not keep staring at the door at the garage’s entrance, waiting for the moment when Rachel would arrive.

  She hadn’t turned up yet, which was fucking typical.

  Maybe she won’t even come. That would also be fucking typical.

  His jaw tightened, and he took a swig of beer, focusing his attention on Zee and the cool blonde sitting in his lap instead.

  It had been good to catch up with his friend and meet his lovely Tamara too. Also to talk about the past that Zee had kept hidden all these years. Levi had met a few associates of Zee’s crime-boss father in jail. Zee had been happy to hear it, knowing those assholes were going to be in prison for a long time.

  In fact, the guy seemed revoltingly satisfied all round, which wasn’t any wonder given the woman he was with. Levi had never seen Zee smile so much. Clearly Tamara was good for him, which was great and all, but that kind of shit never lasted. And Levi should know since he’d had the same hopes back when he’d been young and dumb and still pining after Rachel.

  Before reality had ground those hopes into dust.

  But no, his hopes weren’t going to be dust for too much longer. He was back, and soon Rachel would be here, and all those hopes would then become reality. He’d make sure of it.

  He lifted his beer, took a sip, smiling at something Zee had said, but the smile felt pasted on. Like Levi had lost the habit somewhere along the line. Like in jail. No one smiled much inside, because there was fuck all to smile about.