The History in Us Read online

  My eyes shot to Levi’s.

  “I’m thirteen,” I whispered to brown eyes, hazy and ringed in red.

  “Shit,” he hissed in my face, his breath washing over me like a dirty cloth. I shivered in humiliation, not strong enough in my own voice to defend myself. His eyelids suddenly heavy, he swayed before me, reminding me he’d been drinking. Too much apparently. When his eyes opened again, they’d shuttered to a dull black. His cheeks softened in apology.

  “She’s just a kid, man.” I wanted whoever was speaking to shut up. Just shut up, like my mama said. Anger filled me and my body trembled. Heat rushed to my face, and I blinked away the liquid clouding my eyes. I saw the moment Levi realized what he’d done.

  “I…” His mouth twisted. He released my shoulders, raising his hands in surrender, and stepped back. One hand ran over his shaved head.

  “Wait, just wait…” The grief on my face apparent, or maybe it was the humiliation that he didn’t realize who I was. Either way, my heart plummeted to my stomach. I hadn’t made it fully out of the bathroom door before our interlude, so I pushed at his chest with all my might, watching him stumble from the force. The thud against the wall opposite the bathroom was exaggerated, the power in my thin arms startling him, like his kiss took me by surprise. My small, hurt voice snapped at him.

  “That wasn’t a kiss. Only when you’re a hero can you have a real kiss from me.”

  * * *

  Heat rose in my cheeks with the remembrance of that night. There was something more to that kiss and deep inside me I compared most other kisses to that memory. Only one other kiss competed to replace the first. Oh, how I hoped Levi Walker had a bad memory.

  Later that week, I took my seat toward the back of the classroom. Thankfully, I didn’t see Levi.

  “One of the first assignments in this class is to pick a partner for field study. That means you’ll share field trips throughout Chicago and collectively report on something specific about the city. It should be historical in nature and involve a journey.”

  I stared at the wire rims of Professor Erickson’s glasses.

  “A journey?” Nate asked, snorting in disbelief. “Like what, the Cubs run for the pennant?”

  “If that’s what you wish to report on, then so be it.”

  Levi entered the classroom, shifting his eyes to the professor and offering a brief nod of apology. I noticed he walked hastily but with a limp, his right hand pressing against his right thigh as he shuffled down the short aisle and took a seat next to me. There were other choices in the room, but I dismissed his selection as a decision like mine—he was a back-of-the-room kind of student.

  “How am I supposed to report on that?” Nate barked and sat up straighter.

  “That is up to you,” Professor Erickson replied, lowering his glasses to the bridge of his nose to glare at Nate. I sensed Nate’s too-perfect hair and sharp eyes had no effect on the older professor, unless he swung that way. “You’re in a graduate-level course, Mr. Reynolds. I expect you to figure out your own solution.” I guess he isn’t fazed, I was thinking when Levi whispered from my left.

  “What are we talking about?”

  “A project. A tour of the city that somehow traces a journey of something historical.”

  Levi nodded and sat back in his seat.

  “In the interest of saving time, I’ve decided to assign partners.” My head swung to the professor as everyone groaned. “People, real world involves working with others, and we don’t always get to pick our partners.”

  “Eek,” Nate interjected. “I sure hope so.” His head swung to face me and he winked at me. My mouth fell open at the directness of his comment and the sexual implication. My face heated and a shaky hand came to my cheek, willing myself to calm the tell-tale sign of my embarrassment. His eyes roamed down my neck and my staring continued. He certainly was good looking. If only he didn’t have an attitude from knowing that fact about himself.

  “By that look, I’m assuming you wish for Katie Carter to be your partner on this journey in your life, Mr. Reynolds.” Professor Erickson peered over his glasses, a witness to Nate’s ogling gaze. Our sneaky professor’s comments were equally as suggestive of something more than casual classroom coupling.

  “Katie’s already mine.” The rough voice from my left startled me, and instead of turning pink, I blanched white in disbelief at Levi’s implication. His eyes widened when he saw me staring at him and he cleared his throat. “I mean, with all due respect to your decision, sir, I’d like to request Katie Carter as my partner.”

  Something in the appeal of another gorgeous looking man in my classroom did affect old Wayne Erickson, and with a twist of his lip, he nodded his ascent.

  “Fine. As history is full of mutiny, and I seem to be having one in my classroom at the moment, you may select your own partner. But let me firmly remind you, there are no givebacks. Once you’ve chosen, you’re stuck.”

  “I’ll stick,” Levi said, and my head swung back in his direction. His eyes pinned me too briefly before he twisted to open his iPad. “Thanks,” he muttered without looking at me, before I ever agreed to anything.

  When class ended, and I was gathering my things, Levi finally spoke to me.

  “Can I speak with you?” His low voice sent a sudden thrill through me, and in that moment, I believed he deserved the label Tuck shared with Penelope and me: Sexy Walker.

  “I was wondering if I could ask you something.” He hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder, but his eyes avoided mine. It was the tell-tale sign of someone asking an uncomfortable question and my brain rapid-fired crazy thoughts. Oh my gosh, is he…

  “I know it’s Friday, and it’s kind of short notice…”

  Holy wow, could this really be happening?

  “And you probably already have plans for tonight…”

  It’s really going to happen.

  “But if you aren’t busy…”

  “Yes,” I blurted, my tone eager, breathless. My body swayed forward and my arms clutched my bag to my chest. Suddenly, the room grew too silent and his dark eyes weighed down on mine.

  “I…uh…wondered if you could babysit?” His face held the most puzzled expression at my outburst, his dark brows pinching together enough to form a crease between them.

  Babysit? In shock, it took me several seconds to process and recover.

  “Babysit,” I muttered. “Of course.” I closed my eyes in complete embarrassment. He must be married. What was I thinking? When I opened my lids, his eyes softened, but the look on his face shifted inquisitively.

  “What did you think I was going to ask?” He tilted his head and scratched at the scruff under his jaw. I stared at a large metal band around his wrist. My body shook in mortification. I couldn’t possibly answer that question.

  “Nothing,” I mumbled, anxious that I’d need to explain myself. Thankfully, he started speaking immediately.

  “I don’t know how this works. Do I pick you up?” His eyes caressed down my body, but I shook any wayward thoughts from nesting in my head. Ridiculous fantasies.

  “I’ve never done this sort of thing,” he amended.

  “Picked up a girl?” My voice squeaked, and I could feel the heat rushing my cheeks. It wasn’t like he was picking me up, not really, just offering to ride me. I meant, giving a ride to the babysitter. Jesus, Katie, I cursed internally. Just stop. Stop thinking. A smirk forced those damn dimples to parenthesis his lips as he shook his head and my eyes dropped from his face.

  “Could you drive to my home?” he questioned.

  “I don’t have a car, but I can get to you.” Public transportation excelled in the city. I cleared my throat at the raspy desperation in my tone. I took a deep breath to calm myself and clenched my hands around the edges of my bag. Levi noticed the motion and his face fell. He held out his hand, and I stared at his thick palm.

  “Phone?” he asked. “Or maybe I should just write down my address.” He returned his hand to his leathe
r bag and began rummaging within it. Assuming he looked for a scrap of paper, I pulled my phone from my own bag, and I asked him his address, typing it into my contacts.

  “I might need your number, too. Just in case.”

  “In case of what?” he inquired, sounding slightly defensive, and I was taken aback. Continuing to glare at him, I fought myself for a second before I could think of a response.

  “In case I get lost?” I hesitated.

  “Of course. Right.” He gave me the number and the time he would need me to babysit. Sigh, babysit.

  * * *

  I arrived at the walk-up, pressed the bell, and waited while a soft buzz filled the small lobby. Like many Chicago-style duplexes, this looked like a house from the outside, but inside the main entrance was a narrow foyer with two doors leading to separate apartments. Levi’s was on the second floor. A return beep unlocked the door, and I took the steep stairs upward.

  The door was propped open at the top, and the small cry of a baby filled the stairwell. I hesitantly pushed forward on the door to find Levi running through the living space with his shirt unbuttoned to his waist, a tie dangling around his neck, and a roly-poly infant laying on the floor under a baby-mobile toy. His arms and legs flailed in multiple directions as his cries grew to a screech.

  “Alicia,” Levi yelled. “I can’t talk now. The babysitter arrived.” He stood up straighter as I stepped farther inside the living room. A sense of relief crossed his face and his eyes scanned my body. A strange sensation prickled my skin, like he was familiar with me, like he recognized every inch, but the feeling passed quickly. It couldn’t even be true. We’d never been that close to one another and Levi didn’t appear to remember me. He tugged the Bluetooth at his ear and then tossed the contraption onto the coffee table. His eyes remained on me while my own slid down the skin exposed through his open shirt. Taut chest and sculpted abs teased me, and I travelled the hills and valleys in need of further exploration. His eyes closed briefly when my gaze dropped to the hair peeking out the waist of his pants.

  “AJ, please,” he groaned softly, fumbling with his shirt. He squatted to the baby and lifted him gently. Holding him upward, the baby drooled toward his father while he continued to cry. Levi turned toward me.

  “Meet Atticus John, officially and irritably. He’s been a bit cranky lately.” Levi jiggled the baby, who wasn’t appearing to settle.

  “Atticus John?” I giggled. “Such a formal name for a sweet baby.” Without thought, I reached forward and rubbed over AJ’s fuzz-covered head. I was curious about the hearing aids but didn’t ask.

  “Atticus is the lawyer-father in To Kill a Mockingbird. He only wants justice and for what’s right to be done in the world. He’s my hero.” I nodded, surprised at the literary reference, and at the hero worship of someone judicially intellectual versus military intelligence.

  “May I?” I dropped my bag on the floor just inside the door and reached out to hold AJ. Briefly too close to one another, the back of Levi’s hand brushed my breast as he passed the baby to me.

  “Shit,” he muttered. My nipples instantly tightened. He turned away again, and his arms moved in a manner confirming he was trying to finish buttoning his shirt and straighten his tie. The first thing that caught my eye was a series of black and white images of AJ that hung over the couch. His feet. His hands. His eyes. The top of his head over what definitely appeared to be a female shoulder.

  Spinning away, I swayed with a fussy baby who slowly quieted at my mumbles. I found that when I told my little sister or brother a story as a baby, they would settle, even when they had no idea what I was saying. I began to slowly pace the room, walking away from Levi. Turning my back on him, my hips rocked as I sashayed with AJ until I was facing the large picture window.

  Still bright outside in the early evening hours of fall, the street below was lined on each side with parked cars. The trees stood tall but sporadic between properties mere feet from one another on narrow strips of land. This wasn’t small town charm. This was big city cluster.

  “Once upon a time…” I began and started to tell the story of Peter Pan. Magical, mythical, and completely my own retelling, the soothing tone worked to calm AJ. I hadn’t gotten too far into the tale when Levi’s voice spoke softly near my ear.

  “You’re really good at this.” My skin tingled and I shivered. Looking over my shoulder, I found Levi peering down at his child. He was even closer than I thought. Standing so close, I could smell him—clean with a touch of musk. My mouth dried at the scruffy jaw mere inches from my lips. I could have kissed him if I were as bold as I once had been. If he wasn’t married. I shook my head and looked away.

  “I’m not certain he can hear you,” he muttered, his breath warm against my neck. “But he has quieted with your voice, so maybe.” A pinched expression graced his face as he stared at his child briefly before stepping back. He reached out his hands, and I returned AJ to his father. “I’ll remove his hearing aids. Then you won’t have to mess with it later,” he offered, sadness filling his eyes. I watched him walk away from me, wondering about the new Levi.

  If he ever became that hero I wanted as a teenager, it was lost to me. Our kisses had been a lifetime ago for both him and me. He had definitely lived—war, marriage, a child—while I kept wallowing in the shallow end of life, uncertain how deep I could swim, and fearing I would never arrive where I intended to go. My future was like a slow, rolling wave, and I seemed to be paddling against the current. But I learned the only person who could save me was myself. The only person who could fulfill my dreams was me, and yet I felt I deserved a hero to rescue me before I drowned. Or at least that hero figure as a life preserver of sorts, keeping me afloat, and supporting the journey. Heroes only existed in fairy tales, I cursed my imagination. Life was not a fantasy.

  Levi

  The scent of her caught me off guard. A subtle hint of something refreshing lingered at her neck. A neck exposed by her high ponytail. AJ’s crying settled at her mutterings and I watched her throat move while she mumbled something about a lost boy and a stolen kiss. My mouth watered and I licked my lips. I could relate to being lost and I’d stolen a kiss from this girl, once upon a time. I closed my eyes and inhaled slowly, savoring the fragrance of her, letting the memory of her lips on mine haunt me, as it often had.

  “You’re good with him.” The thought struck me. She seemed like a natural. In a mere five minutes, she had been more mothering toward my son than his own mother. When those eyes of hers met mine over her shoulder, the bulge in my pants sprang. I had to stop thinking about her creamy skin or the curl of her hair around her ear. Another jolt to the zipper region, and I felt like a predator. I coughed and slipped a hand in my pants’ pocket, hoping to adjust myself before stepping back. I was running so late, but suddenly I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to spend time with this woman who nurtured my child. The thought unnerving and vulnerable feeling.

  After settling AJ, I rambled instructions about bottles and diapers and then threw out my number and Alicia’s.

  “Oh, is Alicia your wife?”

  Dammit. How could I explain who she was? Then it hit me—what a waste of time it would be to give out Alicia’s number. While the initial shock of Alicia leaving was still present, it became clear after desperate phone calls to each of her family members that they had known her departure was coming. Her parents were sympathetic but supportive of Alicia’s decision. Her sister gave me a lecture on how the separation was my fault. Her actually picking up when I called again tonight surprised me.

  “I’m going out tonight and I thought I’d try one more time to see if you wanted to see your son.”

  After weeks of leaving messages, her voice in response surprised me.

  “No. And stop calling me. I’m cancelling this number so you’ll leave me alone. And don’t call my family,” she huffed. “You know they never approved of our arrangement.”

  “Arrangement,” I scoffed. “We got pregnant.”
>
  “No. I got pregnant and you wanted a baby.”

  I couldn’t say I actually wanted AJ, as in wished for him at first, but once I knew he was coming, I couldn’t deny him life. I’d already taken too many and witnessed the loss of too much to make that kind of decision about my own offspring. Besides, somewhere deep inside, I wanted this little being I could call my own in hopes that I might do something right for once. What a lie. I’d done everything wrong from the moment he was born. Just ask Alicia.

  “Levi?” Katie broke into my thoughts, and I blinked as if I had forgotten she was present.

  “No,” I sighed. “I’m not married.” I didn’t miss the twist of her mouth, or the way her teeth nipped at her bottom lip, but I didn’t give it a second thought.

  * * *

  When I finally got to the pub, I was relieved to find Anne was running late as well. I decided to sit at the bar, feeling disembodied from the noise of those who cheered on the baseball game. I slowly sipped a whiskey, loosening up for the first time in months. It made me realize just how uptight I’d been. Alicia’s departure was something I hadn’t seen coming despite the warnings. I just didn’t want to believe she would follow through with her threats. She was a dramatic woman. A one-night stand after too many drinks at a bar in Wrigleyville, to my surprise, I spotted her crossing campus the next day. She was a graduate student where I was only an undergrad at the time. Her dark hair and black eyes attracted me, the combination bringing me disturbing comfort. Her tempting smile pierced my reckless heart.

  No commitment, she’d offered. Just a good time. She slipped me her number.

  We had coffee later that day. It wasn’t romantic. It was a lukewarm gesture before another night of scorching but emotionless sex. We weren’t exclusively dating, but the time of our carnal knowledge seemed to hardly leave room for others. Still, I questioned AJ’s paternity when she told me she was pregnant. The instant AJ arrived, I had no doubt he was mine. Originally, she didn’t want the baby, but some consoling convinced her to live with me. I promised to do the right thing and offered to marry her. She refused.