Yeah, I think. This is definitely that kiss.
There’s something so terrifying about standing here with him, so fully invested, neither of us willing to leave the other. I forget everything: my papa, my fears, the fact that there’s a castle surrounding us and anyone could knock on the door. And I don’t want to go back—I don’t want him to let me go. To make sure he doesn’t pull away, I wrap my fingers in his hair and tug, deepening what we already had, making him hum. All I want to do is jump up and wrap my legs around him, let him hold me, but this dress is too snug around my hips.
His hands run along my hips and try to lift one leg, but it’s awkward and fumbling and restricted. I let out a single huff of laughter, but that’s all I can do before we’re kissing again. He manages to pick me up with his arms around my waist, my shoes two inches off the floor, and I feel a little bit like flying and floating and growing wings.
Suddenly, an unbidden thought hits me. “I still have to do my hair,” I whisper into his mouth. Then I go on with kissing him, because who cares about my hair? I sure don’t.
He chuckles. “What? Don’t want everyone to think we’ve been making out?”
I groan. “Does it look horrible?”
His lips graze mine, so beautiful and much too far away for me to be perfectly happy. “We’ll have to see.” He sets me down, holding me still while I catch my balance, and straightens. His lips are red, and I touch them, my hands on either side of his face, both thumbs trailing over where I was smashed against him only a few seconds ago. Levi closes his eyes. “Bee.”
I look at him in wonder, that sharp face and lashes like silk and sensational, crazy hair that I made crazy, and I murmur, “We kissed.”
“I know,” he says, opening his eyes, and swoops in for one last peck before letting me go completely. “There’s no going back now.”
I can’t believe what just happened and I have no idea what to say, so I grab his hand and tug him into the bathroom. “Come here, you have to fix your hair, too.”
He lets me drag him along, but the moment we see us in the mirror, we stop. Levi’s suit looks like he just rolled around in it and his hair sticks up straight like there’s no gravity. My own hair is tossed around my face. My lips look darker.
Both of our cheeks are pink.
But despite our ridiculous appearances, neither of us can laugh. The desire to kiss each other senseless is still strong, and seeing us like this, beautiful and embraced and loved, makes us want to do it all over again.
Levi steps up behind me, wrapping his arm across my chest, his other arm around my waist, and kisses the side of my neck. I shiver, lifting my hands to touch his hair again. He nudges me with his nose. “Do you know what time it is?”
I check my phone on the counter. “Thirty till.”
Levi sighs. Then, reluctantly backing up, he grabs his hair gel from where it sits in my makeup bag. “Better get going, then.”
I watch as he unbuttons his suit jacket and takes his gel-covered fingers to his hair. He’s done in a single minute, whereas I’m still figuring out how to style the jewel-studded clip in my hair. He waits patiently, sitting on the counter while I apply foundation and eye shadow. He talks about tonight, and the people coming, and the money he hopes to make for the charity—all the while watching me closely, studying my hands and my lips and my eyes. I can tell he’s paying more attention to my every move than he is to his own words, and it makes my heart pound almost as fast as it did when he was kissing me.
It isn’t until I’m done, standing up straight and wiping my powdery hands on a towel, that he reaches for me and kisses my cheek lightly. “All I can think is that the sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can mess up your lipstick.”
I resist the urge to smother his cheek in pink. “Sounds like the best plan we’ve had all day.”
“Ready?” he asks.
“So, so ready,” I answer.
He takes my hand in his, heated by his heart pumping blood and some wild affection for me that’s written in the stars, and I feel like he’s holding my heart instead.
Chapter 31
The first silent auction I went to with Levi consisted only of wall art, but this auction is bigger and brighter and is made up of everything colorful. There is art, of course, but there are also bursts of fashion, and musical instruments, and furniture designed by men and women with foreign-sounding names. The room, set at the back of the house with wide, bay windows to give us the perfect view of the ocean, is empty of people—but that will change soon. I can hear cars outside, expensive engines revving, a man laughing, a woman shouting.
I predict correctly: As soon as the front door opens, admitting the first guests, they don’t stop pouring in. They’re all dressed in clothes that far surpass mine in quality, but at least I feel as fancy as they look. Levi smiles as he shakes each hand offered to him, genuinely happy everyone could come, and makes it a point to introduce everyone to his “very beautiful girlfriend.” (That’s me, I keep reminding myself.) I smile, shake hands, make small talk…and all the while I wonder if I can do this, if I can be this person without falling apart. I think about our kiss, the way he touched me, and hold onto that image like a lifeline.
That is who I am. That is what we are.
For a while, there is nothing but the sound of laughter and clinking and too many footsteps. Everyone has come; the filled rooms echo and swallow me whole. But then the door opens again, and it’s like Levi has frozen beside me, his breathing hollow. I look up from my appetizer, sensing his alarm.
Oh, hell no.
Levi breathes, “Dad?” and sets his glass down on a tray and drops my hand and escapes up the stairs into the foyer to where his dad is taking off his coat.
I decide, very stupidly, to follow him. “Levi,” I interrupt. Already he looks pissed, and neither of them has spoken yet.
“Bee,” Levi says, voice a little harder than usual, but I can tell he’s trying to keep it under control for me. (Although, why he is so angry is a little lost on me.)
Mr. Orville smiles at me. “You look gorgeous tonight, Bee.”
I hate his smile, so slimy and catching. “Thank you. Levi has good taste.”
Mr. Orville gives me a once-over. His gaze stops on my neck and the pearls around it. “Who…where’d you get that?”
I touch it gingerly, thankful when Levi puts his hand on my back. “Mom let her borrow it,” he says, the defense in his voice like a shield around me.
“It looks nice,” Mr. Orville says, but his gaze lingers. “I remember it from our wedding.”
I suddenly feel warm, in a very not-so-good way. In an embarrassed way. In a very angry way. (Thing You Should Know About Me #2,201: I have never wanted to suffocate someone before, but they say there’s a first time for everything.)