Running into Love
Page 9

“Come on, Muffin,” I urge, giving her leash a gentle tug as my face grows hotter.
“I think Muffin wants to stay with Levi.” Mac laughs, and I glare at her. “Just sayin’.” She smiles.
“Come on,” Levi rumbles, and I watch him lead Muffin to my apartment door, where Mac steps back to let him inside. Feeling the leash in my hand pull, I know I don’t have a choice but to follow behind them.
“Oh, hey, Levi,” Libby calls from the couch as I release Muffin so she can get to Libby. “We’re getting ready to watch a movie. Do you want to join us?” she asks, and I peek up to find him already halfway out the door.
“Sorry, it’s been a long day.” He pauses to look over his shoulder. “Maybe next time,” he says, then his eyes find mine and I hold my breath. “Night, Fawn. See you soon.” The promise in those words and the look in his eyes has goose bumps breaking out across my skin.
“Night, Levi.” I watch him close the door behind him as he leaves.
Shrugging off my windbreaker, I avoid looking at either one of my sisters as I hang it in the closet along with Muffin’s leash.
“So Levi went with you to walk Muff—”
“Don’t.” I hold up my hand, cutting Mac off, because I know what’s coming. I don’t want to answer a million questions, and I don’t want to listen to her and Libby tease me about Levi, especially when I’m feeling so conflicted.
“I was just going to say that was nice of him,” she grumbles, walking to the kitchen to get a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Sorry, I’m just tired.” I sigh, rubbing my face. I’m actually not tired anymore, even though I should be, since it’s almost three in the morning. Instead I feel wired, like I’ve just drunk three cups of coffee and taken a trip on a roller coaster.
“Come watch a movie with us,” Libby pleads, and I look to the couch, where she and Muffin are curled up under one of my blankets.
“I think I’m just going to go to bed.”
“We won’t talk about Levi anymore if you watch a movie with us,” Mac pouts, taking a seat on the couch and pulling a separate blanket from the back.
“Fine,” I give in, feeling guilty for being so short with her moments ago. Kicking off my Toms, I go to the couch and take a seat next to Mac. As soon as I sit, she drapes part of her blanket over my lap, then picks up the remote. “What are we watching?”
“Nightmare on Elm Street.” Libby smiles while Muffin stands, only to lie down across Mac’s lap so she can rest her head on my thighs.
“God, I haven’t seen this in forever,” I say, absently running my fingers through Muffin’s thick fur.
“Me neither. I wonder if it will be as scary now as it was when we were kids.”
“I doubt it. Most movies I thought were scary back then aren’t as scary now,” I say as the movie starts to play. Not even thirty minutes later, I yawn for the fourth time in a row and look over at Mac and Libby, finding them both asleep. I think about waking them and helping them set up the pullout, but they honestly look comfortable enough. Flipping off the television, I climb carefully off the couch and head to my bedroom as Muffin follows me. Shutting my bedroom door, I turn out the light, take off my sweats, and climb into bed, feeling Muffin jump up a second later. She groans as she flops down next to me. Lying there in the dark, it takes forever to find sleep as my mind spins with thoughts of Levi.
Chapter 4
IT’S MY BIRTHDAY—I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO
FAWN
“Time to pack up, guys,” I call from the front of the class, seeing that it’s two minutes until the bell will ring. “Remember, your permission slips need to be turned in tomorrow, so make sure you have your parents sign them tonight if you haven’t already,” I shout over the sudden eruption of talking, books slamming, and coats being put on. “Also, don’t forget that your book reports are due tomorrow, so bring your books with you to class,” I say, watching my students look restlessly from the clock to me, ready to escape as soon as the clock strikes three fifteen. I can’t blame them—I love what I do, but after being surrounded by four walls all day long, I’m just as antsy to get outside. Hearing the bell ring, I smile. “’Bye, guys.”
“’Bye, Miss Reed,” they say one after another as they pass me on the way out of the room. Giving them all smiles or pats on the back, I wait until the last student passes, then turn around and grin when I see Tamara, one of my favorite students, with her head buried in a book.
“Honey, class is over,” I say, and her chin flies up, causing the curly ringlets covering her head to bounce. As she looks around, her mocha cheeks get pink just a bit, and she shakes her head.
“I did it again?” she grumbles, and I smile.
“Don’t worry, the bell just rang,” I reassure her as she stands and pushes her cute little blue glasses up the bridge of her nose and slips on her three-sizes-too-big jacket. “What book are you reading now?” I ask, knowing it will probably be something that will surprise me. Tamara reminds me a lot of myself at her age. I loved reading and could easily get lost in a book for hours on end if left alone.
“To Kill a Mockingbird,” she says softly as she unzips her backpack, shoving the book inside.
“That’s one of my favorites,” I say after a moment, and she nods without looking at me. “If you ever want to talk about it, I’d love to hear what you think of the story,” I say, knowing this book isn’t something an eleven-year-old girl would necessarily be reading, but her mother explained during our last parent-teacher meeting that she allows Tamara to read pretty much whatever she wants. If I’m honest, Tamara is far too smart for the books we read in class.
“Thank you, Miss Reed.”
“You’re welcome, honey. Is your mom picking you up today?”
“I don’t know, her or her boyfriend will be here.” She shrugs, looking uncomfortable, and I bite my bottom lip. I have no issue at all with the fact that Tamara’s mom is a stripper. I actually think it’s admirable that she puts food on the table, a roof over her girl’s head, and clothes on her back. The problem I have with her is she constantly has men in and out of Tamara’s life, and none of them are ever any good.
“If no one’s here by four, come back in and let me know. I’ll make sure you get home,” I say, sliding off my desk to stand.
“Okay.” She chews the inside of her cheek, twisting her backpack in her hands.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, um . . . I got you something.”
“You got me something?” I say, not able to hide the surprise in my tone. Nodding, she opens her backpack and pulls out a crushed pink gift bag with darker pink polka dots on it.
“It’s nothing big,” she says quickly, looking nervous, but she’s very wrong. I know that whatever she has gotten me she most likely paid for with her own money and got on her own time, making it huge.
“Honey, you didn’t have to get me anything at all.” I pull her in, giving her a hug before leaning back and taking the bag from her. Opening it up, I pull out a simple purple candle and hold it to my chest. “I love candles.” I smile, giving her another tight hug. “Thank you, honey.”
“Happy birthday,” she whispers, then her body stiffens against mine, and I turn to see what’s causing her distress.
“Your mom said you’d be waiting out front. Come on, I’m going to be late.” Tamara’s mom’s new boyfriend, Juan, says from the doorway. He sounds annoyed and his eyes are narrowed. My spine stiffens. Moving closer to Tamara, I rest my hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Sorry, Mr. Varges. I asked Tamara to wait after class so she could help me put away a few things,” I lie, not wanting her to be in trouble with him.
“Well, we have places to be, so if you’re done, we need to go,” he says, keeping his eyes locked on Tamara. I step slightly in front of her, and his eyes finally come to me.
“Sorry about keeping her, and thank you for being understanding.”