Page 29 of Our Hearts Knew Better

“Well, they’re not perfect,” Levi said, with that fondness in his voice and the right amount of teenage frustration that came with having normal parents. They had a leash on him, but there was room for movement, for stretch, not so tight around the throat. “They would love you.”

I felt a little gasp in my chest as I looked at him, his gaze already on me, tracing over my face, down to my lips, then sliding back up, heating that cozy fire in me.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I teased low, my eyes slipping from his.

He laughed through his nose, one push of breath. “Not at all.”

I believed it.

“I’ll probably be meeting your dad, anyway,” I teased again, with more tease, quoting him from our first night and giving away how my brain stored everything he said to me.

“I do want you to meet him,” he said back, now like an answer to our first night’s question, the emphasis giving away the space I’d taken up in his head too.

Then his jaw set as he sat straighter, his entire face shifting with something like determination. “The Fourth’s coming up. There’s this epic fireworks show we always do on the water…” He trailed off the invite, or what sounded like wasleadinginto an invite, one he couldn’t commit to giving because I couldn’t commit to taking.

The railing started to ache against my back, so I moved the pressure to another spot. Which angled me more toward Levi and bumped my foot into his. “Sailing at night?” I copied his skepticism when he’d asked me about my imaginary cat, but I was also curious if this was an actual exception.

“We don’t go out far,” he answered with a half smile, and I was on the wrong side to see his dimple. I held a laugh in my chest thinking about asking him to switch places. “Adam will be there too,” he added with a higher pitch as he became interested in something on his shorts. Which I suspected was nothing.

I nudged his foot with mine and got his focus back on me, my focus then fixing to the image of fireworks on the bay, a flutter in my stomach over how romantic and beautiful that would be.

“Maybe you can come?” Levi was hesitant when he finally gave the invitation, an almost guard in the words for what he knew would be mine.

“Unless the show’saftermy dad’s bedtime, afraid not.”

He shook his head, then his brows bent in, with that jerk in his jaw for injustice I’d grown to recognize. “What’s his deal?” he asked rhetorically, seeking as I had, only to be left lost too. “It’s just the Fourth. It’s just some fireworks.”

Our eyes locked as my next heartbeats rushed and reached over the urging in Levi’s voice, for the audacity of my situation.

This was the first time I felt like I had someone who would truly fight for me.

Beside me.

Just the Fourth, just some fireworks—harmless things that are hazardous to my closest relationship, by proximity.

“He makes good burgers and we eat them.” I sounded like I used to as I said the words, as I delivered a statement for my time with my dad, like that time was good enough, the semblance ofgood. But a deepening hollow followed after the period for every way it wasn’t.

I bent a knee, digging my chin into the bone to distract from this ache with another one.

Levi’s foot nudged mine for my focus now, and when I swiveled a glance at him, I straightened at seeing the small box in his hands, my leg a slow slide back to the floorboards.

It didn’t resemble a jewelry box, but more like a tiny container. And as he moved it between his fingers, like he was hesitating or thinking too hard, as he could do, I couldn’t even imagine what was possibly held inside and what he was going to tell me about it.

Finally, he met my curious stare, releasing the lightest breath as he offered me the box. Our fingers grazed as I took it from him, my thumb tapping over the top before I paused, my stare now asking.

Levi nodded and I opened the box.

Everything slowed down. I couldn’t feel my heartbeat and I couldn’t expand my lungs for the seconds my eyes remained wide open on the two honeysuckle flowers nestled beside each other.

No way. No. . .

Yeswas the air back in my lungs and the thud of my pulse as I traced a finger over one of the petals.

They blurred in my vision and I blinked furiously to keep the tears inside my lids, my throat squeezed off from words.

“Our yard has a bush,” Levi told me, with such a soft happiness in his voice for my reaction.

No way.

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