Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Levi and Kit walk through the doorway. Hesitating, she motions toward the hallway. I shake my head—it’s Levi’s room too. They don’t need to leave.
Austin presses a kiss to my hand. I squeeze back, but an unwanted truth settles. Even Austin has a limit. He can’t hold it all for me.
Because that’s your job?
“What’s going on in here?” Levi teases. His eyes lock on me, almost accusatory.
“You looked so serene,” Kit says in a ridiculous voice.
I laugh at the She’s the Man quote. “I made breakfast, darling!”
“Mavs game. Halftime,” Austin answers Levi. He relaxes back into the couch. “Playing with her hair convinced her to tell me things. Works like a charm, dude, if your telepathy ever fails you with this one.”
I turn to send him a silent message, and his smile tightens to a grimace. He didn’t mean to reference the dark period of their relationship.
But no concern from the lovebirds.
“My telepathy often fails me with this one,” Levi says.
Kit’s Disney eyes flick to Levi with a sly, flirty look. Whoa. That’s a new side of Perfect Little Kit. Bold and dangerous?
Austin suddenly pushes up and steps to Levi. “What’s up, dude?” His quiet voice perks my ears. “You’re not telling me something.” He shakes his head, impatient. “Not that. Something else.”
Levi silently opens his closet door and turns around with a sweater and dress pants in his hands. Fancy, even for him. Must be a Valentine’s date. He holds them out to Austin in some kind of wordless bro-coded message.
Austin studies him. Levi flicks a glance at Kit—then at Austin again, like he's waiting for something.
Austin stares at the sweater. “Oh.”
Levi scratches the back of his neck. Message sent. Message received. They’ve always had this unspoken thing, but this feels heavier. Almost like a warning.
“Sophs,” Kit says, too bright. “Levi’s taking me to a tapas place in Portside. It’s all authentic and fancy, and we could pretend we’re in Spain. You’d love it.”
Levi drops his head. Like the secret’s out.
There’s more to this. Kit’s big eyes practically plead. Not sure why yet, but she’s right—after that description, I’m dying to go.
All three of us look to Austin.
“Feel like tapas, Soph?” That voice. The one I heard before bowling, in Dallas, and more all the time. Resigned. Weary.
I turn to Levi. “Do you even have a reservation for four?”
He nods—guiltily—at Austin.
Valentine’s dinner for four. So he’d wanted us there. Maybe not anymore.
Kit’s restless eyes flick to the window again. She stiffens. That’s what’s off. The forecast says rain. So why not another night? If she’d even blinked, Levi would’ve canceled. But she’s not blinking.
“Can we watch the rest of his game before we decide?” I ask.
Levi’s eyebrows lift in approval, and he checks his watch. “Sure.”
“I’m headed back to change,” Kit says. But she doesn’t move.
I tilt my head. “Just in case, can you bring me some things?”
“Yes!”
“I’d need my heeled boots and makeup bag. Oh, and this place is fancy, you said? Pick some earrings—I trust you. And a dress that goes with yours.”
“The black one,” Austin pipes up.
I break into a grin. Too bad I can’t actually wear that workout dress he loves.
“And …” Kit falters. “Can I make your boyfriend ride shotgun?”
I glance out the window. Could this mean something to Levi? Is she pushing past her anxiety for him?
Something stirs in my belly, and I step close. “Hey, KitKat? What if you drive? Maybe you’d be okay in the driver’s seat.”
She frowns, flicks a glance at Levi.
“KitKat, huh?” Levi teases Austin.
“Apparently,” Austin says, quirking a smile.
“You can take the Jeep.” My gut tugs, but I buckle down. “Whether we join or not.”
She chews on her lip. Finally gives a tiny nod.
When we’re alone again, Austin returns to his spot with me. I love this couch, but it’s a thousand times better when he’s on it.
I turn his face to mine. “We don’t have to go tonight. You seem really tired.”
“Are you five nine?”
I blink at his non-response. “Five eight. Why?”
He breaks into the tune of “5 Foot 9.” “God makes five foot eight, brown eyes in a tennis dress.”
I clap and grin. Another lyric swap just for me.
“Loves dinner out and small-town music …” He putters out with a quiet chuckle. “Wait, how does it go?” He bends forward to search for the Tyler Hubbard lyrics on his laptop. “Ain’t no way that me and this school made her fall in love. Saga makes good pizza, but God makes the good stuff.”
I curl into him, laughing. “You’re so clever. And funny. And sweet. And sacrificial.”
“Whoa, whoa. Big head, remember?”
Meeting his gaze, I turn serious. “I mean it. You should get to pick too.”
“I pick you. I want you to get to go.” His eyes smile, but that weary voice says otherwise.
“I’ll make you a deal. We go tonight, but no crazy date next weekend. I’m ordering in. Lots of meat. You’re going to accept it, and you’re going to like it.”
“Ah—”
But I duck under his hat to plant a kiss on his lips, silencing his protest. A kiss that lingers, that bares my closeness and trust and need.
“I love you too, Soph,” he whispers against my lips.
My gut clenches painfully. See the world or drink sweet tea. I knew this would happen. But we can make this work. I’m not giving him up. I can make this work.
Please.
Austin
Song of the day
“Like No One Does” by Jake Scott