“You don’t have to be here, you know,” I wheeze. I’m on a high with him here, but he has to know I’m not going to keep him prisoner. He has to feel free to leave whenever he needs to. I’d expect this from a doting husband, maybe, but this was supposed to be our first date and—
“I know that, Betty.” His fingers dig a little harder, turning what was a light caress into an incredible massage that sends tingles all the way down to my toes.
“You’re good at that,” I say, and blush for absolutely no reason other than that he’s touching me with kind, loving fingers while sitting on my bed. (Take that, romance novels.)
“It comes from spending one too many nights with a stressed out, cookie baking mom.”
He’s so good, this pretty boy I’ve caught and captured inside my heart. I think about all the things we have to learn about each other. All the secrets we have yet to tell. (Sex, I think, and girls and past relationships and sex. Ugh.) I tuck these topics into an ask-when-necessary file in my brain. All the while I’m gazing at him dreamily, which I don’t realize until he looks down at me.
“What?” he asks.
I shake my head, biting the inside of my mouth to keep the stupid words inside.
Levi takes a deep breath, and I think he’s going to argue, but instead he says, “Is your name Benedetta?”
He asks this with such conviction that I almost take him seriously. But then I snap out of it. “BENEDETTA?” I gasp.
He cringes. “I take it that’s worse?”
I laugh at him. “You’re so far off.”
“Well I don’t think it’s fair that you know my full name, and I only know one-third of yours.”
“Too bad.”
“Come on, Belladonna. Just tell me your middle name, for starters.”
I squint up at him, hesitating.
“You can’t deny me this. You’re sick on our first date—you owe me!”
I can tell he’s joking (his eyes sparkle and his mouth quirks and then he’s laughing at me), but I feel bad. I do owe him. So I reach up and run my hand through his frazzled hair and pull him down so his ear is by my mouth.
“My middle name is Aurora,” I whisper.
“I like that name,” he whispers back, and I feel his breath on my neck.
It makes me warm. “Thank you.”
He catches my hand that’s woven into his hair, pulls it down to his chest, and holds it there. My other hand drifts around to the back of his neck, making sure he doesn’t move. Not quite yet. I’m not ready.
With a sigh so quiet it’s like a breath catching in his throat, Levi closes the gap between us and kisses my temple. My pulse thuds so wildly I’m pretty sure he can feel it, beating right against his soft mouth. And this is how we stay, him curled over me, our faces touching, our hearts like a broad river running between us.
Chapter 25
“Gretchen, I know what you did,” I say, very seriously. I flop onto my back on my bed, one hand holding the phone to my ear, the other tucked under the pillow at my head.
Gretchen squeals. “I sure as hell hope that means he finally asked you out.”
“Your smart mouth is going to get you in so much trouble!” I shout. “How could you do that?!”
“HE ASKED YOU OUT, DIDN’T HE?” she yells back.
“YES, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF.” I groan. It’s been a few days, but the fears have already begun to settle. (What if I’m a terrible girlfriend? How does one average human rise to the occasion of dating the world’s prettiest boy?) “Just accept this gift I’ve given you,” Gretchen argues.
“It’s too much, too awesome.”
She snorts. “Get over yourself.” A pause, and a very suspicious hmmm. Then, “Has he kissed you yet?”
I groan again. “Dude, we’ve been on one date and spent the Fourth of July together. This hardly calls for kissing. Besides, I’m not ready for it yet.”
I can just feel Gretchen’s eye-roll. “You. Are. A. Liar.”
“I am not.”
“You so want him to kiss you.”
“Yeah, but not now.”
Gretchen makes another humming noise, this time disbelieving. “And how is he going to feel about your, um, unusual but honorable conviction? You know, your most important decision ever?”
“Shhh!” I blush. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Gretchen snorts. “Whatever. I’m just happy you’re finally together. Guess what? I’m sending you a letter in the mail.”
“What?!” (Thing You Should Know About Me #12433: I like to write and read handwritten letters. I even hang the most special ones on my wall because I’m a sentimental old goat.) “Yeah, I found this old stationery in a recently unpacked box from the garage, and thought I’d make your day.”
I’m about to answer when my bed dips. I whip around, shouting incoherent nonsense in a brief moment of terror before realizing Levi is lying down beside me. He almost falls off from my jostling.
“Shit! Bee!” he exclaims, but he’s laughing.
I scramble, realizing I’ve lost my phone in the fray. I find it—right as it slips into the crack between my bed and the wall.
Thump.
“Leviiiiii,” I groan, smacking him on the arm as he clumsily gets off the bed. “You made me drop Gretchen.”
“Sorry, sorry.” He leans over the crack where the phone fell. “Sorry, Gretchen!” he shouts.
I yank the bed away from the wall, he pulls the phone out, and before I can take it, he puts it to his ear. “Sorry, Gretchen,” he repeats. “Totally my fault.”
I sit on the bed, heaving a breath. When I look up, I find my sisters standing in my doorway, their mouths and eyes open wide.
Astrid’s lips shape into a wry smile. “We’ll be watching you two.”
I run a hand over my face. “Goodbye, Astrid.”
She and Millie turn on their heels and run, down the hall. Levi puts my phone back in my hand and sits beside me on the bed. When he kisses my cheek, I feel myself automatically leaning into him.
“Sorry I scared you so badly,” he whispers, his chuckle tickling my ear.
I lose it, then. I break into laughter so hysterical I’m pretty sure I’m going to cry. I press the phone to my ear, lying back on my bed, legs dangling off the edge next to Levi’s. (Although his feet actually touch the ground.) “Gretchen?” I gasp into the phone.
She’s laughing just as hard as I am. “What just happened?”
“Levi…erm…surprised me.”
“Oh, my gosh! All I heard was screaming and then muffled talking and then a loud bang, and terrifying laughter.”
Levi lies down beside me, still chuckling. I move so he can tuck his arm under my head. “Sorry Gretchen,” he whispers again, his mouth close to the speaker on my phone (which means it’s also close to my mouth). I push him back a little, rolling my eyes.
“She forgives you,” I say, poking his ribs.
Gretchen protests, “I do not. Tell him I don’t forgive him! Oh, just let me talk to him.”
I turn on the speaker and Gretchen’s voice comes blaring through. “LEVI! I don’t forgive you.”
Levi gives me a bewildered look. “I’m sorry I interrupted.”
“Well.” Gretchen hmphs, like she’s blowing out a deep breath. “At least you’re treating my girl right.”
“I’m trying. I mean, I’ve only had a few days to get it wrong.”
I smile at this. “I can get off the phone,” I whisper, “if you want.”
“No, no. She was there first,” he says. “I’m fine hanging out here.”