Page 75 of The Break-Up Pact

I arch up and press my lips to Levi’s, sinking into a deep, roaming kiss, the kind that really does feel like coming home. He presses me into the metal table until I slide back onto it. My legs straddle him as he closes the distance between us, holding a hand to the back of my neck to steady me as the kiss intensifies, two weeks’ worth of ache and yearning pent up and spilling out of us at once. I’m half aware of where I am, and half dizzy with the need to touch every part of him I can possibly grab hold of, account for every piece I’ve been missing while he’s been away.

Somewhere outside, a car door slams, followed by the telltale beep beep of someone locking it up. We pull away, both breathless, both searching each other’s faces. Both seeing the heat of our own desire, and what’s shifting into place under it. The understanding. The trust. All of it stronger now than it was even two weeks ago, fortified not just by a shared history, but a shared future.

Levi keeps his hand on the back of my neck for another moment, his eyes blazing with all of it at once. “I don’t ever want to go that long without kissing you ever again,” he says lowly.

I slide off the table, pressing another kiss to his lips, setting that clock back again. “That sounds like a good deal to me.”

Levi’s eyes soften on mine, the two of us suspended in the quiet promise of the words.

A few moments later, the door opens, and another baker comes in from the parking lot with a merry wave. Levi and I are both blushing faintly, the deeper conversation we still want to have hovering between us, a bookmark slid in it for later.

Later. That same calm washes over me again, now that I know we have time. The time Levi gave me, and the time stretching out in front of us farther than we can even see.

Levi works on his batch as I start pulling out ingredients, the two of us spending the next minute catching each other’s eye and trying not to laugh like kids who almost got caught making out in the hallway. I’m about to ask Levi how the last of the move went when he preempts me by asking, “How was the football game last night?”

I set down a giant carton of eggs. “I can safely say I still know nothing about sports, but I do know that warm carbs are the only thing that can bring two rival teams together,” I tell him. We sold out of our entire supply of Flight Risk scones before the end of the second half, and enough kids took a picture of the QR code Sana taped to the bus that I’m pretty sure we finally got our Gen Z “in.”

Levi passes behind me to grab another pan, ghosting his hand on the small of my back. “What a wholesome, family-friendly sports movie you’ve just inspired. Did anyone burst into song?”

“Maybe next time. We’ve already been invited back for every game this season.”

Levi’s eyes are unabashedly proud. “Look at you, taking Benson Beach by storm.”

It’s hasn’t even been two full weeks since we started using what Dylan dubbed the “Tea Tide Mobile” around town, but we’ve already made quite a name for ourselves. On weekdays we’ll plant ourselves in places with foot traffic where we managed to get quick permits—close to the town square or in the parking lot of the boardwalk or outside the university. In the evening sometimes we’ll head over to community events like football games and the big art show that the Benson Beach Museum of Arts hosted. Heck, one night we asked Games on Games if we could try our luck in the parking lot during trivia night and sold so many Wakey Fakeys that the owner joked about ditching the bar scene and opening a scone shop of his own.

It’s literally chaos on wheels, but I love every second of it. I love the days when I’m manning the truck and get to talk to familiar faces and new ones. I love taking moments to explore at all these games and events and feeling like I’m part of the currents rippling through Benson Beach again. I love when someone pokes their head in and asks a question I haven’t heard in a long time, one that makes something under me hum with pride: “What are the specials for today?”

And most of all, I love that it’s been a team effort every step of the way. That there are already memories of people I love in every corner of the truck. The little scone doodle with stick legs and arms Mateo drew as a joke that we ended up putting on all the fliers people can grab with their order. The driver’s seat of the truck that now permanently smells like Dylan’s aftershave. The window where I got a truly iconic picture of Sana leaning down to plant a kiss on her now-boyfriend Aiden while handing him a scone.

And now Levi, here and making scones with his own hands, part of this new world of mine that’s been opening up by the day. One that feels wider and more full of potential than it ever did, even when I was seeing more of the world than anyone I knew. One that makes me feel more like myself than I have in years. My life is more unsettled than it’s ever been, but I’ve never felt more settled in it.

“Oh, hey. Now that you’re here—I wanted to show you something I found.” I pull the binder open to the folder in the back, where I tucked away Levi’s notes. “These are super old, but Annie had them in the back of Tea Tide.”

Levi blinks at them in confusion. “I don’t even remember writing these.” He thumbs through them slowly, his eyes catching on a few of the ideas in confusion or amusement. He shakes his head, and when he looks back at me, there’s a bright energy in the blue of his eyes. “This is wild. I think I wrote these all down in the same day.”

I tap the pages. “And just goes to show you how bottomless that brain of yours is,” I say. “I know you were worried about having other ideas after you wrapped up this manuscript, but that’s just it. You’re brimming with them.”

“It’s been a long time,” says Levi, with a trace of doubt in his voice.

“It’s also been a long time since you’ve let yourself be in this mindset,” I say. “You just need to let yourself have time to ease into it is all.”

Levi’s eyes linger on the pages, and I feel my words sinking in, even if it takes him a moment to speak. “Or maybe I just need to get cracking on whatever this…” Levi squints at his own handwriting. “‘You’ve Got Mail, but ghosts’ plot was supposed to be.”

I stand on my tiptoes to get a better look at the page because I missed that one. “The only thing spicier than rivals in love are undead rivals in love,” I say.

Levi’s lip quirks. It’s not the almost-smile anymore, though. Just a soft and genuine one. It occurs to me that I haven’t seen the almost-smile in weeks.

“Thank you, June. Not for saving these, uh… banner ideas from teenage me,” he says, not without a bit of sheepishness. He lowers his voice. “But for reminding me. And for believing in me.”

I feel the warmth of it twofold—not just the belief I have in Levi, but knowing how much it means to him.

“Of course,” I say. “The faster we expand out the Levi literary universe, the better. Speaking of, I meant to ask—has that editor gotten back to you yet?”

“Oh.” Levi sets the pages back down on top of the binder, scratching the back of his neck. “So—I didn’t submit it.”

I blink. “But you finished it.”

“I did, but then…”

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