Page 33 of Needed You

I don’t even hear the whole sentence because I’m hung up on him saying I am going to be a pain in his ass. I am going to be a pain in his ass. Like he’s going to see me more. Like he’s going to be involved in my life. A chill rushes through me, but I don’t say anything back.

I open my eyes as he takes a turn, and it’s then that I notice we’re not headed toward my house but to Lev’s place again. Quietly, I say, “You can take me home if you want to. I’m not drunk tonight.”

He turns to me, and I catch the shimmer in his eyes from the reflection of the streetlights. He looks back at the road. “You’re coming home with me. You’re a mess, and I want to make sure you aren’t hurt more than I can see.” His voice is calm and steady, like he’s talking to a wild animal, trying to get it to calm down and not launch into attack mode again. There doesn’t seem to be much of an argument with him about it, either. His mind is made up.

I swallow hard and look at him again. My vision’s a little blurry, probably because my cheek is starting to swell under my eye, and I have the fleeting thought that I’ll have a black eye in the morning, for sure. But I’m distracted by him enough that the thought leaves my mind almost as soon as I have it. My eyes trace down the side of his face, taking in his profile. He has a strong jaw, which is clamped tightly right now. Ticking, even. His face has a little bit of stubble, leading to beautiful, pillowy lips. His nose is in proportion to his face, and his eyelashes press out and up. I realize for the first time how long they are. And how beautiful they are. His Adam’s apple is there but not huge. It’s just enough to be able to see it, and it’s sexy as hell. He’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, which makes me think he was just hanging out.

I wonder what was interrupted to have him come get me tonight.

He must know I’m staring at him, because he licks his lips and smiles, still not looking at me. I turn my head back to face forward and close my eyes, willing away the tingling sensation that runs up my spine.

A few minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of his apartment complex. “Déjà vu, huh?” he says with a chuckle as we get out of the car. “Maybe tonight you won’t be puking your guts out everywhere, though.”

“Funny,” I retort.

He opens the front door and lets me go in ahead of him. He follows as I walk into the dark room. I’m moving slowly, and I feel his body close to mine as he comes in the doorway and presses forward to shut the door. I purposely don’t move to see if he’ll get any closer. God, I want him to get closer. The light flips on, and I hear his keys drop onto the table by the door. He scoots around me and makes his way into the kitchen, turning that light on also. I immediately feel the warmth of his body disappear and want to figure out a way to get it back.

Lev is silent as he takes two bottles of water out of the refrigerator and puts them on the counter. He grabs a small, white bottle with a red lid out of the cabinet over the microwave and shakes two pills out into his palm, then sets them down beside the water. He also grabs an ice pack from the freezer, gets a fresh towel out of the drawer by the oven, and wraps the ice pack in the towel. Every step seems to be so measured, like he’s trying to think of everything and not forget a single thing.

He approaches me and hands me the water and ice. Pointing to his cheekbone where I know mine is swollen, he says, “You’re gonna want to get this ice on that, like, now.”

I walk to the sofa and sit down with a heavy sigh, putting the ice to my cheek. The pressure hurts, so I lighten my touch and lean forward.

“Drink the water and take the medicine, and I’ll go get some stuff to help you get cleaned up,” Lev says. Then he leaves the room.

So bossy. I smile.

But then my adrenaline rush starts to crash, and I lean back onto the sofa and rest my head on one of the cushions, closing my eyes. I bring the towel with the ice in it up to my cheek again and gently set it there, like Lev told me to. A moment later, Lev’s footsteps come closer and then move away again, toward the kitchen this time. He’s doing something in there, but I’m too tired to try to figure out what it is. I hear one of the chairs scraping across the kitchen floor.

“Dare,” he says softly. “Come in here please. I want to get you cleaned up.”

Chapter 19

Levon

My heart is racing, and I can’t believe Dare is back in my apartment, after another issue at the Exchange—and he’s a mess again. Dare in my apartment is definitely something I would like to have happen more often, but really if it’s by his choice and not for any other reason, like being beaten up. I want him to be here because he wants to be here. At least he’s not puking everywhere this time, although maybe this alternative isn’t much better.

I was just chilling out earlier when I got the call from Garrett. Before I even answered it I knew it had to do with Dare. I figured he was going to tell me that Dare was drunk again and that I needed to come and get him. I didn’t expect him to tell me that Dare was outside in the parking lot after getting into a fight.

I’m moving quickly through the apartment, gathering what I needed to clean him up. “I’m just getting a few things,” I tell him, my voice a little louder than necessary. He’s in the other room, and I want to be sure he hears me. “Then we’ll see what the damage is.” I don’t know how badly he’s hurt, if he hit his head, and how sober he is right now. He seems to be more sober than he was the last time he was here, but he’s definitely banged up and bleeding, and I want to help him get all of that checked out and tended to.

“I don’t need your help, Lev,” he mumbles, just loud enough for me to hear.

I know he’s trying to be strong, but he doesn’t need to be. Not tonight. I like to think that I can be someone who helps to make him feel safe and secure, whether that’s in a friend capacity or . . . something else. I put the first aid kit, washcloths, a bath towel, and a few other things on the counter.

“I’m well aware that you can clean yourself up,” I say and swallow hard. “Everything is out here for you to do that. But sometimes you don’t have to be the strong one. I want to do this for you.” I turn and make my way to the doorway between the kitchen and living room. “Let me help.” I feel my cheeks warm.

If I can calm him down, make him feel like he’s not walking this world alone, I want to do that for him. Lindsey’s voice is in my ear as I think about what she said the other day—that if I’m going to get to know Dare, it should be for the right reasons and because I want to, not because I feel like I have to help him or save him. I move a chair away from the table. Everything is ready.

There are a few tense moments as I wonder what he’s going to do and how he’s going to react, but Dare finally rises to his feet and shuffles into the kitchen. He plops into the chair but seems to immediately regret that decision, sucking in some air and gripping his side. He quickly draws his hand away and stills his face. But I notice, even though he acts like nothing just happened.

With him sitting here so open and vulnerable, I can’t help but be transfixed. Our eyes lock, and I realize that this may not have been the best idea. Even with his face all bloodied and tattered, he’s absolutely beautiful. His emerald-green eyes hold wonder and tenderness and something else. Loneliness? Defeat? His plush and now split lips are perfectly pink, and my god that lip ring. I feel my dick stir behind my sweatpants and quickly will it to stop. This is not the time to get aroused.

I clear my throat and move to the sink to wash my hands. Then I go back to the table, take one of the washcloths, and dunk it into the bowl of cool water. I squeeze it out and look at him.

“I put some mild soap in the water and didn’t make it very hot. This is going to hurt while I clean you up. I’ll be as gentle as I can, okay?” My voice is soft and quiet.

He nods. Worried that I have limited time before he up and leaves again, I touch the washcloth to the skin between his nose and lip. I’m at an awkward angle, so reach out to tilt his chin. I pull my hand back immediately, realizing that as much as I want to, I can’t just touch him.