The Color Project

“If I have anything to say about it, neither of us.” He inches into the Maserati’s assigned garage and closes the door behind us. With one shared look, we seem to come to the agreement that neither of us wants to drive at this hour, so staying here is our only option. He nods and pulls the key out of the ignition, and at the same time we turn to look at the back seat.

AuGUStus! is passed out with his head in Penelope’s lap, and she looks incredibly annoyed. Levi, in all of his wild-haired glory, shoots her his most charming smile. “Thanks for taking care of that,” he says, climbing out of the car and closing his door behind him.

“Aren’t you, like, going to help?” Penelope whines.

“Oh, I’m totally sure you’ve got this all under control, considering how well you probably know him by now, in these, like, four days you’ve been dating him. Or should I say nights?” Levi walks around to my side (I’m staring openly like a shocked four-year-old) and pushes on my back with two fingers, toward the door that leads into the house. He glances back at Penelope one last time. “Peregrine, right? Have a great night,” he adds, and shuts the door behind us.

I plaster my hand over my mouth, a giggle escaping. “That’s not the first time you’ve had to do that, is it?” I say beneath my fingers.

“Nope.” He flicks on the lights. An expanse of kitchen spreads out before me, so massive that it’s like there’s an entire canyon between me and the other side.

I make a sound of pure awe.

“It’s butt ugly,” Levi mutters.

“It totally is not. It’s just…excessive.”

“Okay, fine, it’s gorgeous,” he grumbles. “But I reserve the right to call anything and everything in this house gross any time I want, okay?”

I practically snort. The house is immaculate, down to the mahogany cabinets and giant sink and wide island tabletop. Everything sparkles. I take Levi’s hand, following him first to the fridge (because he guesses I’m hungry and tells me he’s starving), where he procures yogurt and water for us, and then out into the rest of the house.

I don’t have much time to pay attention to the massive rooms I’m passing. I focus solely on Levi’s hand and his long stride and the sleep that awaits me on the other side of the house. I might cry from sheer exhaustion and emotional discovery and happiness.

Levi first stops by his bedroom, which is set up like his room at home: organized, minimalist. He puts his backpack and yogurt on the bed and sighs down at them.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“The day’s over, that’s what’s wrong.” He rubs the back of his neck. “There’s an extra bedroom for you, down the hall—”

I act quickly, grabbing his hand before he can move. “Um, no.” Suddenly I’m nervous, because I know that I don’t want to sleep by myself in this gigantic, strange house where Levi’s drunk dad could be lurking at any moment in time. But I also know that asking to sleep in his bedroom, where there is only one bed and a lot of floor, might open up a can of worms, and I will have to do a lot of explaining.

About sex.

Out with it, Bee. Just tell him.

My jaw is frozen shut. I don’t want him to think it’s stupid, or lame, or pathetic, because it’s not. It’s important to me, and I want him to know.

Levi raises an eyebrow at me, as if he’s trying to give me the impression that he’s clueless, but I know from the way his skin color deepens that he’s thinking the same thing I am.

“I can’t sleep here,” I say, but since I mean in this house, it only confuses him more.

“Okay,” he deadpans. “That’s why I’m giving you your own bedroom.”

“No, no, I mean, I can’t sleep here, as in, the house, because it freaks me out a little bit—okay a lot—no offense.”

“So you want to sleep in my room?”

“I do—I mean—” I whimper, hopeless. “I really want to, but if I do, I have to tell you The Thing.”

This is not how I planned to do it. In fact, I hadn’t planned to do this at all. In the several weeks of our dating life, I’d been so preoccupied with everything else (I’m looking at you, cancer) that I’d only thought about this once. I hadn’t thought about Levi’s expectations, or what his past love life looked like. He’s probably had a ton of girlfriends—oh my goodness, this makes me feel even worse—and probably has experience, because he’s Levi, and look at that beautiful face!

“Bee? What thing?” He’s watching me, eyes traveling back and forth with me as I pace incessantly across his room. I’m pretty sure it’s driving him crazy. Three. Two. One—

“Bee—” He puts his hand on my arm to stop me, running his fingers down my bare skin to tantalize me, bringing me in close to hold me. “What’s this Thing you want to tell me that’s making you so nervous? You’re shaking,” he adds, and it’s true. My hands, especially, are wavering where I have them pressed to his chest.

“Okay, so, like, I’ve never had to explain this to anyone except my mom and Gretchen, and especially not to a boy, and especially not to my boyfriend, because, you know, I’ve never had one of those. One of you. You know?”

He nods, like this makes complete sense. (He’s an angel.) “All right. Go on.”

I wiggle out of his arms and sit on the edge of the bed, my hands fumbling in my lap. “I have this thing,” I begin, and instead of continuing I just stare at his expectant face.

He nods, slowly, like he’s trying to be patient. “You said that already.”

“Okay, and, well. I wasn’t really going to tell you like this. I just don’t know what you expect and what you want but I have made a promise to myself not to have sex before I’m married because I want it to be the most special thing in the world, and I figured out when I was with Karl that it wasn’t going to be special if we stayed together. That’s why I broke it off with him, actually. And now I’m here and we’re a thing and we kissed, naturally my next question is what on earth is Levi going to think about this so I’m asking you here, now, what you think MMPH—”

He smashes his whole mouth on mine, sudden and a little violent, but it’s all the better for it. I grab his face and squish it between my hands because I am a lot panicky and he’s here to make it better.

“Bee,” he says quietly, and chuckles, and presses a few smaller kisses to my lips and nose and eyes and cheeks. “You’re the most wonderful creature.”

I whimper. “But what about your past girlfriends and experience that I don’t have and do you want that from me and—”

“Bee! Bee. Calm down.” He puts a finger on my lips and stands up straight. His hand curls around my head, pulling me close, so that my cheek rests against his stomach. I wrap my arms around his waist, squeezing a little too tight, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “I was only just grasping the fact that we kissed, to be honest, but I’m glad you brought it up.”

“Okay,” I whisper, waiting for him to continue.

Levi’s hands glide through my hair, soft and comforting. “I like more than your pretty face, Bee, so if you want to wait, then so do I.”

“Levi,” I say, but it hurts to speak.

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