Loved By Levi

Nine

Mylee

Holy shit was I drunk.

While shotgunning beers and downing whiskeys I hadn't been able to shake the fear that he would find out who I was. Even though I looked like a completely different person in the rodeo getup and ball cap than I did on the beach I still felt like I was bound to give myself away. And as stupid as it was, I didn't want that.

Levi had met the Mylee I really wanted to be and I wanted it to stay that way. Maybe it was selfish of me to think so, but I didn't feel like sharing this part of my life with him. The popular, spunky cowgirl following Camille around wasn't me; that was just a character I couldn't find a way to stop playing. Levi, with his wonder-filled eyes and curious demeanor, didn't deserve my fake smiles and forced laughs. He deserved someone genuine.

Instead of just bowing out of the whole event gracefully like I should have in the first place, I'd let myself get drunk and was most definitely about to do something idiotic.

God, I hated whiskey.

Being a cowgirl involved shooting whiskey straight and running around on half-wild horses that absolutely scared the shit out of me, or at least that was the impression I got. In the very beginning I'd wanted to tell Camille that no, I wouldn't pour whiskey down my throat with her and destroy my guts, but I never had the nerve.

Part of me had come to appreciate the burning sensation that went with taking shots of whiskey, mostly because doing so was the only possible way for me to loosen up on nights like these. If I didn't throw at least a few down I would just stand around wishing I was at home. But at the same time, whiskey was the sole reason for every single stupid thing I had ever done in my college career. At twenty years old I should have known better, only I didn't.

By the time I made my way back over to Levi, Camille had long since disappeared with Matt. He was standing alone, gazing at the trampled grass as I walked over. I noticed the way he held his beer in his left hand with one finger positioned under it to keep the sweating can from slipping out of his grasp. That was just one of the subtle things that drew me to him.

Levi seemed careful. He didn't come across as the type to carelessly let things slip through his fingers. Lighthearted was another word I'd use to describe him. Even though we'd both been soaking wet the day we met he'd had a smile on his face. He didn't let the rain get him down and stop him from doing what he wanted.

With help from the whiskey, I sauntered over and planted myself next to him, taking a long sip of beer that I definitely didn't need. "I see you got ditched, too."

"Yeah," he shrugged, still staring at the ground, "I didn't figure Matt would be around long. And at least this way I don't have to clean up his puke."

I giggled, a lot louder than I meant to. He finally looked up at me with a crooked smile that froze in place as soon as we made eye contact. His blue eyes were still stunning. His hair was still long, curly, and a little floppy.

His expression had been hollow when we showed up. Now it was one of pure disbelief.

I smiled softly back at him and took off the hat I'd been hiding under all night so he could get a better look at my face. His eyes might as well have popped out of his head.

"Mylee?"

Oh my gosh, he even remembered my name!

All I could do was smile back at him and reach up to pat my hair.

"How did you end up here? And you're a barrel racer?"

"Well, Camille has a bad habit of dragging me literally everywhere with her so I can drive home, but that's not happening tonight," I giggled.

"Wait, are you drunk?" Part of the smile returned and his blue eyes sparkled. I knew people found me a lot more entertaining when I wasn't sober and apparently he was no exception. 

I just threw my head back and laughed, hair falling everywhere as the loose ponytail I'd secured it with finally slipped off.

"Mylee, do you want to go somewhere and talk?"

He was a lot more daring than I thought.