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Doubt pierces through me at the tears pouring down her cheeks. Her eyes may be closed, but the creases slice through my hope of—
“Levi Dent.” Her eyes reopen. The sun cascades against her angelic face, and I want to kiss away her sadness. Her own doubts and reservations. Her hand raises to cup my cheek, and I can’t help but lean into her warm touch. “From age seven to…what day is it?”
Confused, I scramble to answer. “Um…Friday. I think it’s a Friday.” Shit, I don’t even know. Time has blended too damn much being in this place.
“From the age of seven to today, Friday, it’s always been you. You’re my rush. My passion. I’ve been in love with you my whole life. But even after everything, doubt eats at me, scared you…this is just a dream.”
“It’s not. I swear it.”
“I know. I’ve pinched myself enough times to know.” God, she’s amazing, making jokes even while lying in a hospital bed. “My feelings have never changed. And they probably never will. You’ve been this entity in my world, and I think you’re always meant to be there. But I will always doubt that the way I tricked you altered something in our path. I can’t stop wondering if I hadn’t been deceitful, would we be here? Well…not here. But us?”
She doubts. Fuck.
“Levi, what happens in another year when someone asks what drives you? My biggest fear is it won’t be me.”
I don’t give her a chance to say another word. “Let me make things clearer for you. In a year, if someone asks me what my current rush is, I hope to tell them my wedding day.” Her subtle intake of breath fuels me. “Each year for ten after that, I hope to say our children, because I want to have a fuck ton of kids with you. And in fifty years, if I don’t keel over from giving you so much amazing sex, I’m going to respond with the peaceful life I’ve built with my loving wife, the mother of my children and my saving grace. Because one day, a long time ago, while she laid in a shitty bed, being romanced by the love of her life, she agreed to take a life journey with me, and then we got a good laugh because her man bawled like a baby for being so thankful—”
Any remaining words are cut short when she lifts her head and claims my lips, the saltiness of our tears blending together. I’m nowhere near done trying to convince her how much I love her, but I won’t ever say no to her lips. Her hands, still weak, find strength in the clutches of my hair as she presses her mouth harder against mine. God, I can spend a lifetime kissing this mouth.
“I love you, Levi.”
“Fuck, I love you so damn much.” Kiss after kiss, we can’t keep up with one another, our unbreakable connection a silent promise and vow of our love. She’s like an addiction, and I won’t ever be done getting my fix. A weak moan falls from her palpable lips and steals my breath. I swirl my tongue with hers, getting lost in this moment, memorizing it. Her love is my salvation, and I will spend eternity showing her how worthy I am of it.
Our kiss starts out innocent, but quickly sparks the inferno of desire always thriving inside me for her. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain the fireworks that explode in my chest with every touch. I ache to remove all things between us and sink inside her, bask in her warmth—
“Seriously? Aren’t you two like super injured? Does the little guy even work right now?” We pull apart, my eyes transfixed on her swollen lips. I feel drunk off her. A shy grin covers her face. We both shift our focus to Chase standing in the doorway with Kipley and Stacey next to him. Kip slaps Chase in the chest and pushes him aside to enter the room.
“Dude, injured or not, get the fuck off my sister. At least wait ’til you’re both cleared and I’m not around for round two of kicking your ass for violating my sister.”
“Kip,” Hannah complains, a sexy as fuck flush spreading across her cheeks.
“Seriously…fuckin’ chicks, man. First it was Kip, crying like a pussy when he asked Stace to marry him. Now you.”
This time, it’s Stacey’s turn to whack him in the chest. “My proposal was beautiful.”
“Well, pussies are beautif—ouch! Jesus!” He grabs for his chest. “Nurse!” he yells, sticking his head out the door. “Where’s that hot nurse who was in here earlier? I need her to help lick my wounds, amongst other things—okay, shit, put your weapon down.” Stacey eyes him, until he throws his hands up in surrender and sits.
