“No one is peeing in front of me.” I throw up my arms. “I was just saying that I like Erika but that you can’t stalk her. That only applies to me.”
“No stalking other women. Got it.” Levi pulls me into his side and places a kiss on top of my head. I lean into him. I missed him while he was at practice.
“We’re going to get shirts with my name on them for you to wear,” I inform him. I’m not sure If Zeke told him of our plans. “Pink is my favorite color.” I fight a smile.
“I don’t give a shit. I’ll wear pink if that’s what you’re into,” Levi says with a shrug, and I know he’s not joking. I snuggle in close to him and try to ignore all the people who keep looking at us.
9
Levi
“What do you think?” Livvie says. Her hands are clasped to her chest and her eyes are twinkling with mischief.
I hold up the T-shirt that the mall worker just pulled off his stitching machine. “I didn’t know they made pinks this bright.”
“It is loud,” the roommate murmurs.
“Are you not going to wear it? Zeke pledged we’d get the same shirt, but if you want to back out…” Livvie trails off. The brat thinks I’d balk at this? Shit, if she asked, I’d parade around campus in a garter and a bra. I’ve got no shame when it comes to her.
I stuff the collar into my pocket, and I reach behind me to grab the center of my shirt. I start to pull but stop when Livvie yelps.
“Will you stop stripping in public? It’s like you want other girls to stare at you.” She jerks the hem of my shirt down.
My brows crash together. “I thought we were all supposed to wear these?”
“Not right now. Later. When we’re back on campus. That way everyone knows we belong together.”
“I’ve got a tank on under this,” I point out, pulling up the gray fabric to reveal the thin white dry-wick tank underneath.
“Oh.”
I wink at my flustered girl. “I learned my lesson from earlier.”
Livvie holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. “Fine. Give it to me.”
I wish. Of course, she’s talking about the shirt and not my dick that is in this perpetual half-mast state. I can suppress some of my lust for Livvie, but not all of it. I guess I’ll be walking around with a half-chub until I get inside of her. I whip my workout shirt off and pull on the hot-pink T-shirt in one smooth movement.
“There are neon signs that are less obvious,” Zeke notes. “Not that I’m complaining,” he adds quickly. He dons the pink shirt over his own black Brockhampton concert one.
We all wait for the third one to get finished. It won’t take long because it’s tiny compared to Zeke’s and mine. When it’s done and I’ve paid, we wait for Livvie to complete the set.
“Um, guys, maybe I should get something else?” Her eyes dart toward the roommate. She’s trying to tell us something, but I’m not quite getting it. I glance to Zeke to see if he has a better translation.
She doesn’t want her roommate to know something.
Him: It can’t be about us. The roommate already knows.
Me: She doesn’t want it to be public then.
Him: Then what’s with the T-shirts?
Zeke plucks the pink fabric away from his chest.
Me: She liked the idea in theory but decided against it when she was faced with putting the shirt on?
“Stop that.” Livvie snaps her fingers in between Zeke and me, breaking our eye contact. “Those two were having a whole conversation without us.” She links her arm through the roommate’s. “Let’s go to Soma’s. I’ve got some panty shopping to do.” Livvie looks over her shoulder. “You two coming, or you going to watch the embroidery machine all day?”
A tiny part of me wants to say that I’m going to watch the embroidery machine all day, because that shit’s kind of cool, but also because I’m a little worried about how strong my self-control will be in a store where Livvie’s handling stuff that covers her tits and cups her ass.
“Ah, maybe this isn’t such a good—”
“You told me if she comes home with a stitch of lace, you were murdering me.” Zeke punches me in the shoulder and shoves me forward.
“Right. That plan is still on,” I tell him but follow Livvie down the mall corridor.
“You’re here. Make her stop.”
I stare at Livvie’s swaying ass and my mouth starts watering. We both know that I can’t tell Livvie to stop doing anything. My whole existence centers around making sure she gets everything and anything she wants. I shove a hand through my hair, not caring that it’s going to stick up in a thousand directions. “Fine. Let her buy the lace. It’ll make it easier to rip it off her when the time comes.”