Page 82 of How Sweet It Is

I nod, but tears threaten to come, and he pulls me up and into his arms. “Of course you’re not okay,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask.”

I cling to him. His arms tighten around me, grounding me, and for a moment, I let myself believe this is safe. That I’m safe. His hand rubs gently up and down my back, and the rhythm of it starts to calm the frantic pulse in my chest.

“I thought I lost you,” he says quietly, voice rough. “When I saw them go after you, I couldn’t breathe.”

I pull back enough to look at him. His eyes are red-rimmed, not from tears but from the weight of it all. Of almost losing someone. Of not knowing what happens next.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, even though we both know it’s only half true. “Thanks to you.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “I didn’t do enough. I should’ve stopped them before it got that far.”

“You did stop them,” I say. “You kept them from taking me.”

His hand lingers at my waist, his thumb brushing over the hem of my shirt like he’s reluctant to let go. “But I couldn’t stop this,” he says, and when I tilt my head in question, he clarifies. “You… leaving.”

My throat tightens, and I don’t answer. I can’t. Because Rafe will be here any minute, and then I’ll be gone again with a new name, new address, new lies. And Levi will stay here.

“Claire.” He says my name like it matters. LikeImatter. “Just tell me you’ll come back.”

I look at the floor, at the way our shoes nearly touch, at the blood from the scab forming on my leg, which makes me flinch.

“My parents’ store…” I start then falter. “They need me. I can’t just walk away from that.”

Levi huffs a quiet, humorless laugh. “That’s an excuse, and you know it.”

I wince. He doesn’t say it unkindly. He sees right through me, and that scares me. A lot of things scare me.

“I’m not asking for a forever,” he adds, softer now. “I’m just asking for a maybe. A chance.”

I blink fast, because anything more than that and I might break. I feel like I’m going to shatter. “I don’t know if I can promise that,” I say, voice small.

He nods, but I see the way his throat bobs like he’s swallowing something sharp. We stand there for a long moment, the silence thick and aching.

Then he does something unexpected. He lifts his hand to my face and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek.

“I don’t know what this is between us,” he says, his voice lower now, more vulnerable than I’ve ever heard it, “but it’s not nothing. It’s never been nothing.”

I don’t trust myself to speak.

He takes a shaky breath. “I didn’t think I’d feel something this real. But I do. I feel it when I look at you, when you’re near me, when you laugh. Even now, when you’re about to disappear, I feel it.”

Something in my chest tightens painfully.

I reach up and lay my hand over his then press his palm more firmly against my cheek. I want to tell him that I feel it too. That I’m just scared. That I don’t know how to choose a future when my past still owns me.

But all I manage is a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

A knock at the door breaks the moment—Rafe.

I pull away slowly as if dragging myself out of a dream, and Levi lets me go. He doesn’t fight it. He just watches me with a look that might haunt me for a long time.

“I have to go,” I murmur.

I can’t force myself to promise. Iwantto come back. But wanting isn’t the same as being able to. Not when I’m still afraid.

He gives me a small nod, his gaze probing mine. “I know.”

I turn toward the door, heart pounding.

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