Back To The Start Box Set: Five Full-Length Novels by Aly Martinez
“I’m sorry I stormed out the way I did, but I really can’t apologize for telling Devon. Levee, I have a really fucked-up past, and it terrifies me to start something with someone like you.”
Someone like you.
I swallowed hard, trying not to flinch from the sting of his words. “Oh.” I scooted to the edge of couch and slid my shoes back on.
He caught my elbow before I had the chance to push to my feet. “Hear me out. Please.”
“Yeah, of course. I was just gonna grab another beer.” I smiled tightly, but he didn’t release my arm.
With one hand, he grabbed the neck of my empty beer between two fingers and replaced it with his half-full one. “Stop and listen. That’s all I’m asking.”
A nod was my only response.
“My fondest memories from when I was a kid are when I was with my dad. I remember him spending hours running around with Anne and me in the backyard. He was so fucking funny and energetic. I swear we were always laughing with him. The problem was that my mom would sit at the kitchen window crying because she knew what would follow. My dad had been diagnosed as bipolar long before he met my mom. But he had meds, and even though they weren’t a fix-all, they helped. Just like basically everyone else who struggles with the disorder, he had a hard time sticking to the medication regimen.” He scrubbed his palms over the thighs of his jeans then dragged his cigarettes from his pocket. He glanced over at me then sighed, tossing them on the wagon-wheel coffee table—his creation, no doubt.
All of my hurt disappeared as I watched something far worse appear on Sam’s face. I didn’t necessarily want to encourage his habit, but I’d have done anything to erase that pained expression.
“You want to take this to the porch swing so you can smoke?” I asked, folding my hand over his.
“Yes. But I need to stop compromising your breakup with lung cancer. So no.” His lips twitched as he intertwined our fingers. Groaning, he continued. “There were times when my dad would disappear to his workshop in our backyard for a week or more. It was a way of life, and Anne and I learned to stop asking questions. Despite all of his shit, he was a great dad.” He squeezed my hand and pointedly held my gaze as he said, “I miss him a lot.”
That does not sound good.
I’d figured the whole walk down memory lane was to set up Anne’s story. But I was quickly realizing that, unfortunately, she might not be the only stop on the ride through Sam’s self-proclaimed fucked-up past.
He ran a hand through his hair. “When I was fifteen, Dad lost his job and went into one of his typical lows. No one really paid it any attention. We were overly used to it by then. Mom used to have us deliver his dinner out to the shop. He wasn’t always as patient with her as he was with Anne and me. When he was up, Mom was the center of his universe. When he was down…he was a fucking dick.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth as I waited on pins and needles for what I prayed wouldn’t be the ending I feared he was about to give me.
“Anne was twelve and thankfully spending the night at the neighbor’s house the night I found him hanging from the rafters. I knew he was dead as soon as I opened that door. But I still frantically tried to save him.” He sucked in a deep, agonizing breath then dragged me onto his lap. Holding me as if I were the only thing anchoring him to the present. “Levee, that’s why I told Devon. I’ll never forget those seconds when I was the only one in that room, begging the universe for help to save him—help that was never going to arrive. I just couldn’t risk that I’d be alone in that room with you too. Someone else needed to know. I couldn’t be solely responsible for losing someone else. Not like that.”
Ice chilled my veins as a reality sliced through me.
Oh God.
I couldn’t let that happen either.
Sam really can’t be with someone like me.
Chapter Fourteen
Sam
“I HAVE TO go,” Levee said, scrambling off my lap.
I had just dredged up memories I’d spent my entire life trying to forget in order to explain my past. I had close friends who didn’t know about the skeletons I’d pulled from the closet and all but put on display for her. And now she was darting?
“Where the hell are you going?” I bit out entirely too roughly while pushing to my feet after her.
She began messing with her phone until it powered on with a chime. “I have a busy day tomorrow. They rescheduled my concert in LA for tomorrow night. I should probably head home. I’m taking off on vacation for a few weeks. You know, rest and relaxation and all that jazz. I’ll just call Devon for a ride.” She lifted the phone to her ear.
Fuck.
That.
“Put the phone down, Levee,” I growled.
She squeezed the phone between her shoulder and ear and lifted the empty beer bottles off the table. “I’ll just put these in the trash.” Then she flittered to the kitchen, grabbing a rag off the side of the sink and wiping away imaginary dirt from my spotless counters.
What hell is she doing?
“Levee?” I called, but apparently, Devon had just picked up.
“Hey. Can you come get me?” she asked quietly, but not quietly enough, because I’d heard the quiver in her voice loud and clear.
And that was all it took to get my legs moving in her direction.
Her back was to me, but I reached over her shoulder and snatched the phone away from her ear.
“Hey!” she shouted, spinning to face me.
My nerves were still raw and exposed from the little journey back in time, but I was mainly frustrated beyond belief.
With my gaze locked on hers, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey, Devon. I’ll bring her home in a little while.”
“No, the fuck you won’t,” he barked, but I pressed the end button.
She swallowed hard and pasted on a sweet smile that definitely belonged to the Levee Williams.
It just didn’t belong to my Designer Shoes.
Not at all.
“Sam, you don’t have to take me back. Give me the phone. Devon can be here in a few minutes.”
Tossing her phone onto the counter, I took a menacing step forward.
Her eyes grew wide as she backed away. “Sam, I have to go.”
I sucked in a calming breath that did nothing to quell the frustration brewing inside me. “No, you don’t. You’re freaking out about something, so open your mouth and tell me what that is.” I continued to advance. “I spill my darkest secrets and suddenly you have shit to do tomorrow? Well, guess what, Levee? I have shit to do tonight. And it starts and ends with you.”
Finally, she’d exhausted the space in my kitchen, and her back hit my sliding glass door. “I don’t know what to say. I just need to go,” she said so matter-of-factly that, if it hadn’t been for the tear that rolled down her cheek, I might have believed her.
I caught the tear with the pad of my thumb and slowly lifted the moisture into her line of sight. “Liar.”
“Sam—”
“Whether it was on the bridge or in a hospital room not even two hours ago, your tears have always told me the truth.” I dropped my damp thumb to her lips. “These are not as honest. Don’t tell me you’re fine. Don’t tell me you have to go. Don’t tell me that everything is okay. Just tell me the truth your eyes are so desperate for me to hear.”
She held my gaze for only a beat longer before she broke.
Completely.
As she threw her arms around my neck, the waterworks came full force. Scooping her off her feet, I carried her to the couch, settling with her on my lap.
Her face was buried in the crook of my neck as she rambled a million miles a minute. “I have no idea what to do here. I like you, but you’re right. You can’t be with someone like me. And, more than that, you shouldn’t have to. Over the last week, I’ve been doing a lot better and finally feeling better than I have in years. But I don’t know if it will stay that way. What if I find my feet on that bridge again? ” She su
A lump formed in my throat, and an unlikely smile tilted my lips. I’d learned early on that, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t fix everything for everyone. I couldn’t make my Dad better any more than I could Anne.
But I could fix this.
With a sigh, I whispered into the top of her hair, “Then do it.”
Her head popped up, confusion painting her tear-stained face.
“Levee, I’m not the one trying to leave. You’re right. This is going to be a struggle for me, but while I have no idea what issues you do have, I do know you’re not my dad or Anne.”
Framing her face with my hands, I pulled her in for a kiss. She was still visibly upset, but I couldn’t deny that the brief contact was more for me than it was for her.
“Levee, when Anne was a teen, she started exhibiting a lot of my father’s typical behaviors. My mom immediately hauled her into the doctor, begging for them to do something…and they did. She battled with what we thought was bipolar disorder for years, but when she was twenty, everything went downhill fast. She started hallucinating and flipping out over nothing. My mom and I did the best we could, but nothing seemed to help. At twenty-one, Anne was officially diagnosed with schizophrenia. I have no idea if that’s what my dad had too. After seeing Anne, it’s not exactly a stretch that he could have been misdiagnosed also.” My pulse slowed, and the truth I was prepared to admit ebbed any residual fear from my body. “But I do know that it’s not what you struggle with.”
Her eyes filled with tears all over again. “No. I don’t think it is, either. But that doesn’t change the fact that you deserve someone different than me. Someone better.” She climbed off my lap, but I no longer worried that she was going to bolt.
If she wanted space to think, I’d give her that.
Gnawing on her thumbnail, she began to pace. Then she stopped and turned to face me, her shoulders rolled forward in defeat. “You need someone you didn’t meet on the top of a bridge.”
But I didn’t give a single fuck what Levee thought I needed.
I’d made my decision.
With all of my unease about pursuing something with her organized inside my mind, a familiar levity washed over me. Reclining back against the couch, I folded my hands behind my head and propped my feet on the table.
“You’re right,” I replied curtly, and her whole body sagged as she looked away. I smirked to myself. “The only problem, Levee, is I just want you.”
Her gaze snapped to mine, and her eyes were filled with a mixture of surprise and hope. As her chin fought to suppress a smile, it gave me hope as well.
I walked over and wrapped her in my arms. Then I repeated familiar words that were suddenly more fitting than ever. “I’m not perfect, and I’d like to pretend you aren’t, either.”
She dropped her head to my shoulder as her arms dangled at her sides.
I kissed her hair and whispered, “There isn’t a woman in the world who doesn’t have demons of some sort. No matter who I end up with, it’s always going to be a struggle.” I kissed her hair again, letting it linger as if my lips were able to transfer the truth of my words. “Levee, I’d like to struggle with you.”
That should have been my big finish, but she didn’t even acknowledge that she’d heard me. She stood impossibly still in my grasp. She wasn’t moving away, but she wasn’t returning my embrace either. I couldn’t see her face to get a read on her reaction, and after a few moments of silence, it began to unnerve me.
“I meant that in a good way,” I whispered, squeezing her tight.
She tipped her head back to look into my eyes and mumbled, “I’m going to need you to sign a release.”
“Huh?”
“I need you to sign a copyright release, because I’m using every single bit of that speech in a song. Jesus, Sam. ‘I’d like to struggle with you.’ I’m so freaking jealous that I didn’t write that.”
I smiled as she finally circled her arms around my neck. “You can have it. It’s not like I can use it again at this point.”
“I don’t know. You did a pretty nice job at recycling the ‘perfect’ thing.”
“I didn’t recycle—I repurposed,” I exaggerated with a wink.
She laughed then leaned her head back to my shoulder. “Sam, you have no idea what you’re getting into.”
“No one ever does. It’s the beauty of taking risks.”
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “I’ll need a release on that too.”
I chuckled, dropping my hands down to her ass. “Look at me,” I urged with a squeeze.
Reluctantly, her red-rimmed eyes met mine.
“I shouldn’t have stormed out on you the other night, but I swear it won’t ever happen again. You need to talk about…anything. Hell, even if you get sick of me and ditch me for some big-time bazillionaire actor tomorrow, I’m still here.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“I’m just saying, I’m here no matter when, where, or why. I don’t want you holding back because of my history. Okay?” I didn’t care if she answered or if she thought it was okay. It made me feel infinitely better to know I’d put it out there.
“Ugh.” She lolled her head back down. “You’re such a good guy.”
“Not always. I’m a real dick if you try to use my toothbrush in the morning.”
Her shoulders shook as she laughed. They stilled when her lips brushed against my neck. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.” I squeezed her ass again.
“This is going to be a train wreck for you, Sam. But I really want to see if we can make something work. I believe I can get better and get my life in order, but struggling with me is exactly what you’ll be doing while I try to find some sort of balance. Besides all my issues, my life is crazy town.” She never looked up as she continued. “There’s no such thing as dinner and movie dates with me. I can’t even leave the house without security. I work nonstop and get recognized virtually everywhere I go. I travel for six months out of every year, and my free time is usually spent at children’s hospitals.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to date anyone anymore, especially someone who isn’t in the industry. The press is going to eat you alive, so we’d have to keep this quiet.”
I could feel her heart pounding against my chest, and her breathing was labored as if she’d just finished a marathon.
“Nobody can know.” Sure, she was talking to me, but she wasn’t telling me anything new. All she’d managed to do was work herself up into a frenzy.
“Calm down.” I hugged her tight. “We don’t have to figure out all of this tonight. Hell, we don’t actually have to figure it out at all. The rest will work itself out. We’ll keep things chill for a while. I’m okay with date nights at casa de Rivers. It has a convenient private bedroom at our disposal.” I glided a hand down her back, but she didn’t laugh.
She continued to freak out. “You don’t understand how much this is going to change your life,” she whispered.
She was absolutely right. My life would never be the same again.
And it was invigorating.
I understood that dating a woman like Levee was going to be difficult, but if she was the great at the end of the day, I was more than up for the challenge.
“I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“You say that now…but—”
“Levee, stop. Take a deep breath and relax. No matter what you say, you’re not talking me out of this. I want to make something work with you, and you’ve made it clear that you want something with me. So let’s do it. End of story.”
“Sam,” she obj
But I was.
“What’s your schedule look like tomorrow? I want you to spend the night.”
“I have to leave in the morning for LA. I have a concert tomorrow night. Then I’m scheduled for a month of”—she lifted her hands in a pair of air quotes—“‘vacation.’”
“Are there going to be doctors on this vacation?”
She nodded.
“Good.”
“Yeah, fantastic,” she deadpanned.
“Oh, hush. It will be fantastic. Now, spend the night and tell me who I need to sleep with to get tickets to your show tomorrow night? I have two days until you’re gone. I’m maximizing my time whether you want it or not.”
“Are you sure?”
I reached up and pinched her lips between two fingers. “Zip it. I’m positive.”
She sighed, and her whole body relaxed.
As anxiety drained from her face, my Designer Shoes appeared before my eyes with an enticing smirk. Pushing my hand away, she pressed a kiss to my mouth. “I might know someone who can get you tickets, but I hear she’s pretty needy in bed.”
“She can’t be any needier than you.” I kissed her again, greedily opening my mouth for a taste I had been longing for.
She was leaving in two days, but for the first time since I’d met Levee, I knew for certain she’d be coming back.
To me.
Chapter Fifteen
Levee
IF SAM COULD pretend that sheer force of will was enough to overcome our issues and attempt a relationship that was obviously destined to fail, so could I.
Hell, I could probably pretend for the rest of my life if he continued to hold me the way he did.
Kiss me the way he did.
Touch me the way he did.
Save me the way he did.
With a firm squeeze around my waist, he lifted me off the ground. Never breaking the kiss, he carried me, dangling in his arms, to the couch.
He sat on the cushion and attempted to pull me on top of him, but I sank to my knees instead.
“No,” he objected as I went to work on the button of his jeans.