“What?”
“The Fall Up. That’s the name of my album. I’m going to write ten songs about my journey to the top of that bridge. Then my journey back down. I want to tell it all. I started writing a few nights ago, and at this rate, I’ll be done in a few weeks.” She suddenly pushed out of my lap and onto her feet and began pacing the length of the couch. “God, it felt liberating, Sam. Molding all of that pain and darkness into something positive.” Her eyes lit as she stopped. “I want to help people, but you’re right. I have to make my life a priority. But why can’t I do both? Those two things don’t have to be mutually exclusive. So, with The Fall Up, I’m proposing I get the therapeutic relief of telling my story through music, and I donate every single penny I make so that no one can ever use that bridge as a weapon again.”
A lump of emotions suddenly formed in my throat. I couldn’t pinpoint what emotions they were, exactly, because never in my life had I felt anything like it before.
In that moment, even as the memories of Anne ravaged me, I fell even more in love with Levee Williams. I shouldn’t have been surprised by this idea of hers.
It was thoughtful.
Smart.
Beautiful.
Kind.
Brave.
Exactly like Levee.
I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my manhood intact and the asshole tears at bay. But shit, I was overwhelmed.
I shouldn’t have been surprised by that, either.
It was definitely Levee.
Standing up, I hugged her tight, tucking her head into the crook of my neck. She didn’t even have a choice in the matter. She didn’t exactly fight me though.
“I can handle it, Sam. I swear to God. This will be a really, really good thing for me. And if, at any point, I’m taking it too far, I know you’ll be there to reel me back in. Please say yes.”
After clearing my throat, I said the only thing that possibly made sense. “Marry me.”
Her head popped up in surprise. “What?”
Cupping each side of her jaw, I repeated, “Marry me.”
“Wha… Why?”
“Because I love you. Because you love me. Because every second that you aren’t my wife, from this moment on, will be agonizing. Because I’m ready to start our lives together. Because I have absolutely no concept of romance and just blurt shit like this out, but I swear to God I’ve never, in my entire life, meant something more. Levee, marry me.”
Her bright eyes filled with tears. A single one spilled from the corner, giving me the answer I knew I would receive, easing my entire world.
Her voice was thick with emotion as she attempted to tease, “But where’s the other half of my photo album?”
Smiling, I wiped the tear away from her cheek. “I’ll finish it this weekend. I’ll sell my liver to buy you a proper ring too. I’m sorry I did this a little out of order, but I couldn’t wait. The Fall Up, Levee? It’s fucking brilliant. Of course I support you.” Placing my tear-soaked thumb over her lips, I whispered, “Say yes.”
She held my gaze and, in a very serious tone, spoke around my thumb, “I’ve made worse life decisions, I suppose.”
I gave her an unimpressed glare then replied, “I can attest to that. I listened to your performance with Lionel the other night with my mom.”
She returned my glare, but a smile crept from under my thumb.
“Say it,” I implored.
Taking my wrist, she guided my hand away from her lips. While wrapping her arms around my neck, she took my mouth in a slow kiss that said even more than the tear, but it still wasn’t the one word I needed to hear.
“Say it,” I urged as she forced me on to the couch.
She didn’t follow me down. Instead, she made her way to the door, twisting the lock on the handle before very sensually removing her jeans.
“Fuck. We should go home,” I growled when she mounted my lap and immediately went for the button on my jeans.