Levi’s wide open arms look too comforting, too real, too wonderful. And I am in need of comfort, of reality, of wonder. I don’t want to be here, not now, but I do want to be with Levi.
I lift the covers and slide in, scooting my hips closer until they are an inch away from his. This is practically unbearable, so I lay on my side and put my head on his shoulder and my hand over his stomach and my leg on his. He stirs and turns, and suddenly our feet are tangled, and both of his arms are around me. He turns so that my face is against his chest. I breathe him in, asking, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah…sss…okay…” he mumbles in reply. At least, that’s what I think he said. I’m not sure how awake he is right now, but it doesn’t matter. It’s like he was holding out his arms just for me to roll into them, and that’s all I need in order to finally fall asleep.
Levi’s ringtone wakes me at the crack of dawn.
I roll over, reaching for him, mumbling that he should answer it or I’ll kill him because why would anyone call so early in the morning. But then I realize he’s not there. I’m grasping at empty sheets, and I haven’t actually opened my mouth yet. Or my eyes.
I crack them, just a little bit, and see Levi rushing across the room to his phone. (I find it adorable that our phones are plugged into the same outlet, lying side by side. I realize this sounds ridiculous, but it’s too early to care.) “Hello?” he whispers. He sees that I’m awake, and makes an I’m-so-sorry face.
I muster a smile, and he goes back to his conversation. I hear snippets of “What?” and “Are you serious?” and “When?” before he hangs up.
I push myself up to a sitting position, watching him pocket his phone in his sweatpants with a look of complete surprise and adorable wonder. “Who was that?” I mutter, rubbing my eyes.
“Felix.” Levi runs a hand through his sleep-skewed hair and says, “Oh, my God. He said one of his friends at the auction last night lives in Carlsbad and wants to host an event for potential sponsors. He also wants to help us get an official building.”
“Levi—that’s crazy,” I say, a little more awake, and push the covers off my legs. “Did he say when?”
“He’s going to call me in a couple of days with more details, but I think…soon.”
My sweetheart Levi looks like a deer in headlights. I smile, but not just because of his news, which must make me a terrible girlfriend. “That’s amazing.” I pause to yawn. “What time is it?”
“Almost eight. Sorry that was so loud—”
I wave him off. “I need to get up anyway.”
His signature smirk takes over his face. “You slept so hard; you didn’t even move when I got up. We were face to face, and I’m pretty sure our legs had become a pretzel. I didn’t realize I’d been promoted to full-body pillow.”
I snicker. “You offered yourself up for the job, so don’t blame me.” Suddenly, I remember why I slept so close to him in the first place, and my mood drops. “I got a phone call at two in the morning, from my mom.”
He pales. “Please tell me it’s not as ominous as it sounds.”
I rub my eyes again, frustrated that I can’t truly see, before realizing that my glasses are still off. “He hit his head in the bathroom, and they had to take him in. He’s fine, but…” I shrug.
Levi huffs, standing at the end of the bed. “Okay. We can leave right after we eat, promise.”
I nod, studying him and his hilarious hair that stands on end. That’s it. I stand up on his bed and walk toward him. One of his eyebrows shoots up in question.
“Dammit,” I say when we’re two inches apart. “I was hoping to be a lot taller than you, but this is, like, only four inches.”
“My bed’s low to the ground.”
“Dammit,” I say again.
“Um, Becky, who said you could walk around on my things?”
“Um, Levi, shut up,” I reply, and wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.
He tries to protest, but I keep kissing him, despite his frantic attempts at speaking. “I can’t…you can’t…abuse me…like that…there are…boundaries.”
I pull back. “Like what?”
“Like…”
I roll my eyes. “Just kiss me.”
He does, pulling me close with one hand on my lower back, the other curling around my neck. His lips press hard enough to open mine, and he kisses me so thoroughly that I don’t notice his hand moving to my legs—which he then proceeds to swipe out from underneath me.
I shriek, falling backward, landing hard. “Oh. My. God.”
He crawls onto the bed, one leg between mine, hands on either side of my shoulders. He kisses me again, smooth and comforting and warm. I can hear our breaths like little gasps between kisses, faster than normal, our heart rates skipping sky-high. The kiss lasts forever and is over too fast at the same time—fulfilling and wonderful but still not enough. It’s like he knows this, and understands the boundaries I’ve set, because when I start to slow down, so does he. With a last peck on my nose, he stands up, grabbing clothes from his dresser, and heads into the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
It takes only a moment before his phone rings again, almost painfully loud. “Dude, your phone’s ringing again,” I say over the noise.
“Yeah, I can hear it,” he yells from the bathroom.
“Want me to answer?”
“No, let it ring.”
His ringtone, as usual, is a jumpy, dancing song, and I’m feeling ornery, so I stand up again and start jumping around. “Levi, guess what?!”
“What?” he shouts back.
“I’M JUMPING ON YOUR BED!”
“Bee!” He sounds exasperated, but then there’s a trickle of laughter that comes after. “I’m going to—” He bursts out of the room, wearing a yellow t-shirt and his boxer shorts. Which, adorably, are covered in rainbow stripes.
I laugh again, still bouncing, and ask, “Is that what you wear under your jeans?”
He looks down. “Uh, yeah?”
“You’re cute.” I bounce again, and this time he doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“As long as you like them,” he says, backing up into the bathroom.
“Not that I’ll be seeing them much,” I remind him, then jump off the bed and land with a thud. “What’s for breakfast?”
Levi leaves the door open as he pulls his jeans on. He brushes back his hair and tosses his laundry into the basket by the door. “Let’s find out.”
Levi sets a plate in front of me. “Fresh cinnamon rolls, straight out of the oven.”
My mouth waters at the steamy goodness in front of me. I kick my feet at the rung of the barstool beneath me, glancing up at Levi who is grabbing his own plate of cinnamon rolls. “Who made them?”
“Dad’s maid.”
I take a bite and immediately melt, just like the frosting on my tongue. “Wow. She’s good.”
“She’s damn good.”
I look over. “You’ve got some—” I lean in and kiss the top of his lips, where there is some lingering cinnamon and frosting.
Levi groans. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because, you minx, you—”
“Levi,” a sharp voice interrupts.
I jump back, embarrassed, as AuGUStus! walks into the kitchen, sans Penelope. (And good riddance, I think.) “Dad,” Levi says, bristling.