“Is that a challenge?” He dips his head until we’re eye to eye.
I purse my lips at him. “Since when did you go from grump to flirt?”
“You know exactly when.” He kisses the tip of my nose again, then pulls me down on the couch, his arm around my shoulder as he snuggles me into his side. He unfurls his letter with a flick of his wrist and hands it to me. “Read.”
I give him one more fake glare before snuggling deeper into his side.“‘Dear Hayley,’”I read out loud.“‘Let me tellyou a story.
“‘Once upon a time there was aboy who had superpowers that didn’t seem all thatsuper to him. Super hearing. Super smelling. Super touch. Allhis senses cranked up to super-level. But instead ofother superheroes whose powers could be used for good andto help other people and even save the world,theseabilities only seemed to overwhelm the boy and cause himdiscomfort. Like Goldilocks and the three little bears,everything waseither too hot or too cold. Too hard or toosoft. Nothing was ever just right.’
“Levi.” I stop reading and wrap my arm around Levi’s middle, squeezing and wishing I could give a hug to him as a child.
“Keep reading,” he grunts as he pokes the letter with his finger.
“‘The boy hid himself away,trying tocope with powers he never asked for,alone because itwas just easier that way. He had given up onthe idea that there was a place where he fit,much less the hope of finding a person who didn’t seem too hot or too cold,too hard ortoo soft,but someone who was just right just forhim.’”
I can’t help myself. I stop reading again, and I look up at the same time his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He licks his lips and points to the letter, silently telling me to keep going.
“‘You are just right,Hayley. You are the calmin the storm,the light at the end of thetunnel,a deep inhale when I can’t catch mybreath. In a world where everything else seems so verywrong,you are my just right.’”
Levi pushes the piece of paper into my lap, then turns so he can look into my eyes. “I know you’re still trying to figure things out, but please, I promise you we can figure them out together,” he pleads in a whisper that pierces my soul. He lifts a hand and runs his fingers through the hair at my temple, cupping the back of my head as if desperate to keep me in place.
What can I say to that? I am undone. I can’t fight anymore. Not him, not myself. Is it the right choice or one we’ll later both regret? I don’t know. But there’s nothing left I can do but give in to sweet surrender. “Okay.”
“Okay?” he asks, like he has to make sure he heard me right. “No third-act breakup?”
I bark out a laugh I didn’t even know I was capable of in this emotionally charged moment because, come on, who expects this burly man to know what in the world a third-act break up even is?
I shake my head, a soft smile still on my lips. “No one likes third-act breakups.”
Levi hauls me into his lap. “No, they do not,” he breathes against my mouth before capturing my lips with his own.
The kiss he gives me is the very definition of oh so veryjust right.
24
“Well, this is it, Cletus. Just you and me and an open road once again.” I pat the side of the bookmobile.
Levi raises his brow at me. “Cletus?”
“I told you already. You don’t know everything about me.” I smirk sassily up at Levi.
He slides his hands into his pockets and leans a shoulder against Cletus, grinning down at me. “Never said I did. Only that I wanted to. One day at a time.”
“Hmm. Well, today’s lesson on Hayley Holt is that she tends to name inanimate objects.”
He nods, nonplussed, like my doling out monikers to nonliving things isn’t something that surprises him in the least. “Noted.”
“Are you sure?” I narrow my eyes to little squints and tilt my head playfully. “I don’t see you writing anything down.”
He taps his temple. “I’ve got it all right here.”
“Good, because you never know when there’ll be a pop quiz.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
“I’m not worried.” He lets his gaze travel the length of my body. “I plan to study the subject matter very thoroughly.”
Wow. Okay. He just went from zero to sixty on the flirting meter, and I am here for it. “Very good,” I croak.
Shoot. Croaking like a toad isn’t the least bit sexy. I clear my throat to try again.
