Loved By Levi

Thirteen

Mylee

"Good morning, sunshine," Camille smirked as I stumbled into the kitchen the morning after the party. "Where the hell did you go last night? You were supposed to drive us home, remember?"

I downed three Advil with a swig of yesterday's black coffee and ignored her. God, my head hurt. Puking six times in three hours could do that to a person.

She scowled slightly at me. "Lucky for me it didn't take much to get Matt in bed so I drove myself home. I'm pretty sure I got back before you did. Anything you wanna tell me, miss Mylee?"

The floor swayed a little and I fought back a wave of nausea. One, because I didn't want to picture her in bed with Levi's friend, and two, because my head was swimming and my stomach was getting ready to throw a fit again. Why was her voice so loud? I grabbed the counter stiffly and refused to open my eyes.

Unprompted, she continued to interrogate me. "What, was the dick that bad? I'll can take you to get checked if that's what you're worried about."

"No," I snapped, finally steadying myself enough to get a sip of water down.

"Woah, no need to yell at me. I'm not the one who went totally MIA last night." She sounded hurt but I knew good and well that it was all an act. Camille could always manage to make herself into the victim even when the situation had nothing to do with her. "Who was the guy? Couldn't have been that bad if you came in so late." Out of the corner of my eye I watched her grin slyly as she twisted her long dark hair and draped it over a tanned shoulder.

I'd always been somewhat jealous of her hair, not to mention her flawless native American skin. She looked tanned even in the middle of winter while I was just one huge freckle on my best days. Not only did her heritage make her absolutely stunning, but as a registered member of the local Tribe she had access to some of the best horses in the state at little to no cost to her. Plus, all her schooling was covered by the government and she literally got a paycheck just for existing.

It wasn't her fault, and if she didn't run around flaunting it I wouldn't have a problem with the fact. But being Camille, that wasn't an option. The girl was hot shit and she had no intention of hiding it. Remembering the way he'd stiffened when I told him my dad covered half of my tuition, I wondered if Levi would resent her for that, too.

Levi.

Shit.

I felt another strong wave of nausea hit me and darted to the bathroom. Camille followed to hold my hair in a gesture that would have felt comforting if I didn't know what she was up to.

I puked my guts up. Of course, she spent the intervals between spasms asking questions.

"Jesus, Myles, how much did you drink last night?"

"Enough."

"Man, if you were that drunk he's probably pretty ugly in the daylight."

I dry-heaved again and ignored her. Ugly and Levi were two words that should never be used in the same sentence but I wasn't about to let on to that with her. I'd learned long ago that the less my nosy roommate knew the better off I'd be.

She sat down on the floor and played with my hair while I laid with my cheek plastered to the cool tile. "Seriously, Myles, who was he?"

Even though nothing had really happened I was too hungover to explain or argue with her about it. "Nobody you'd know." I thanked God for that. If I'd gone out with one of her men I'd be carrying a plethora of STDs with me.

No, nothing had happened. Except we went out to eat and exchanged numbers. And I'd texted him something that made absolutely zero sense, which he had yet to reply to.

I was never drinking again. Like literally ever.