Chapter 21

It’s nearing dark when we pull up to Levi’s house. Lights have been strung over the porch and draped over the bushes, and two men stand out front, hands in their suit pockets. They see us drive up and go inside, as if they’ve been waiting.

I hope we’re not too late.

Levi grips my hand—the hand covered in ink—before I can leave him behind. I don’t know what to say to him right now; I think running into the house will solve all my problems. But it turns out Levi doesn’t want to talk. He just wants to hold my hand.

That, I’m totally okay with.

The house is empty, but the backyard is so full of people it’s almost as tight as the fundraiser. We break our hands apart when we step onto the back patio. Suzie runs toward us, exclaiming something about the fundraiser, clasping Levi close as she kisses his face.

“Was it amazing?” she gasps. “Did you have the best time?”

“Yes, we did.” He flinches at her last big kiss to his forehead, then laughs. “It was a huge turnout.”

Suzie claps her hands. “Good!” She pulls me in for a hug and asks, “Did you have fun, Bee?”

“It was awesome,” I say, kissing her cheek.

“I’ll try to come to the next one, I promise.”

Levi puts his hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to, Mom.”

Suzie shakes her head. “No, no—” Someone calls her name. Without warning, she makes a quick dash toward the center of the aisle, leaving us stranded.

I turn to Levi, confused.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t come to events. I told her I didn’t want her to if it would make her feel uncomfortable. She wants my dad at some things because she thinks it will be better for me to have him there. It’s one of the many sacrifices she’s making because I know she would rather kick his butt all the way to the middle of Kansas than miss all the important events.”

I don’t have the right words to answer, so it’s a good thing we’re interrupted. I’m pulled into introductions: Ivanka’s mother and father, her cousins and her young brother. I meet Augustin’s father (his mother passed away four years ago) and five sisters. There are others as well, but too many, too scattered, for me to meet in the allotted ten minutes I have before the wedding starts.

Soon Tom finds me, his smile wide. He looks nice in his slacks and polished shoes—I haven’t seen him wear this nice of an outfit since our estranged older cousin got married three years ago. He gives me a quick hug, shakes Levi’s hand, and says, “Bee, will you find Elle and tell her that the littlest sister confiscated her seat because she was too slow?”

“Why do I have to be the errand girl?”

“Because I’m pretty sure she went where no man can follow.”

I laugh. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell her.”

I manage to sneak into the house without getting caught for conversation and find Elle exactly where Tom assumed she’d be—in the bathroom. She cracks open the door as soon as I knock, her eyes shifting back and forth down the hall before pulling it open wider. “Here. Quickk.”

I’m ushered into the room, tiny as it is, and run smack into Ivanka. She’s wearing her dress, with the train curling around her feet, her veil pushed back. She smiles at me, pulling me into the tightest hug. “So happy, Bee.” She laughs, but I hear the half-sob underneath. “I feel so beautiful.”

“You look so beautiful.” Tears start in my eyes as well, but I wipe them away, turning Ivanka toward the full-length mirror. “Ready to show your man?”

Ivanka grins. “Yes. I am.”

Elle claps her hands, all business, but her eyes are growing misty. “No crying, please. Save it for the ceremony. Did Tom reserve my seat?”

“He did, but he wanted me to tell you that the youngest cousin confiscated it. I doubt there’s much hope for you.”

She laughs. “Fine, I’m coming to steal back my land. In a few minutes. After we’ve finished her makeup.”

I smile, nodding, kissing Ivanka on the cheek, turning toward the door. “I’ll see you both in a few minutes, then.”

I shut the door behind me—and bump into a tall figure in the hall. I know instantly by the gray suit fabric in my face that it’s Levi, and suddenly my heart is no longer in my chest. “Levi.”

He looks down at me. “The one and only. You okay?”

“Fine, and I found Elle.”

“In the bathroom?”

“Helping Ivanka.”

“Aha!” Levi pushes past me, the slyest of sly smiles on his lips. “I want a peek.”

I gasp. “Not a chance!” I push him back with a (probably) ridiculous but (hopefully) fierce look on my face.

He laughs at me. It takes a few seconds to register that I have him pressed against the wall, my fists bunched around his lapels. His knees are bent so that he’s just a little bit taller than me, and my legs are pressed against his, much too close.

“Remind me to never again call you a lady,” he murmurs, eyes twinkling.

I let go, mortified, but he catches me. In the dim hall, he lifts the back of my hand to his lips. He presses a light kiss there, on the words that he wrote earlier.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to call me a lady.” I find the courage to smile at him, even though I’m completely devastated.

“I didn’t, Brittany.”

I hold back a groan of frustration by biting my tongue inside my mouth. I have never ever wanted to kiss a boy as badly as I want to kiss Levi right now.

I have to get away.

But he doesn’t let go of my hand, and his gaze doesn’t leave my face. “Did I guess it right?” he whispers.

“What?” I whisper back.

“Your name. Is it Brittany?”

I smile. “No, sorry.”

He is quiet for a moment, and very serious. “How can I guess?”

“You can’t.”

“Is it an actual name or something your mom made up?”

I hesitate. “It’s…an actual name.”

“I’ll keep searching, then.”

“You do that.”

“Bee,” he says, and I realize we’re still whispering in the tight hall, pressed close. It feels so natural, like I was always supposed to stand like this with him.

“Yeah?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I thought of another song.”

I narrow my eyes, letting him stand up straight, and look up at him. I’d almost forgotten how tall he is. “What is it?”

After a pause, after he licks his lips and lets out a small puff of breath, he says, “I’ll tell you later.”

We stand there, looking, searching, for at least another thirty seconds. Then he turns, dropping my hand, and takes three long strides out of the hall.

I’m left alone, a beating, bleeding heart in an open ribcage, not certain of anything, ready for everything.