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Warmth floods my cheeks—though I’m not sure why. I do love Levi, even if we’ve only ever proclaimed it in roundabout ways.
“You didn’t write a date.” He peers around as if searching for a pen. And then he freezes. “Unless. Wait—”
I am not afraid of falling in love. Not with Levi Bailey. So, I speak my truth. “I love you, Levi. I don’t know what date to write there. I’m not sure when it happened exactly. I don’t know how to check this one off.” I shrug one shoulder, hoping I haven’t hurt or offended him.
“I got it,” he says, and to my relief, he doesn’t sound upset. Levi pushes my legs from his lap, stands, and opens up a box that has the word: OFFICE printed on the side. He jolts back over with a ballpoint pen in his hand. “Can I?”
“Sure.” I don’t know what to write. Maybe he will.
Levi scribbles away then hands the paper back over to me.
There’s a bold checkmark next to the twenty-three, proclaiming it complete. To the right of FALL IN LOVE, he’s written:then, now, forever.
I blink away my tears and wrap one arm around his neck.
Levi scoops my legs back onto his lap, then shimmies the two of us prostrate on this couch. Our arms tangle around each other. Our faces close. His nose brushes mine.
“How’s that?” he asks.
“Perfect,” I tell him with a peck.
Levi’s arms around me tighten, and he pulls me close for more. His sweet, inviting breath tickles my lips and cheek.
I tilt my head and kiss his lips until I’m desperate for air. Broken apart, I make sure to get in the last word. “Now that that’s settled, let’s talk Shakespeare.”
Levi’s answer is another kiss—deep and long, urgent and loving. One that may never end. And I’m not sure if that’s a yes or a no.
