Page 89 of Death and Do-Overs

It wasn’t a wall at all, but a huge, round metal door with no discernible handle. Intricate shapes were carved into the metal,tons of small flowers and other shapes, like this was the life’s work of a skilled craftsman.

“What do you think is in there?” Levi asked.

“Something suspicious,” I said.

There was no way to open it, but I took a picture of the door, then a few more of our surroundings so we’d remember where we’d found it.

A loud crash startled me. I jumped and twisted to find the cause.

The metal trash can lid was on the ground, rolling away like a wobbly wheel.

The cat scrambled a few feet from the can, back arched, eyes wide.

It must have accidentally knocked the lid and itself over.

I grabbed my chest and chuckled. When I twisted back around, I practically crashed into Levi.

With only an inch between us, I could feel the heat of his skin. He smelled like freshly fallen rain in the spring, like light after surviving the darkest of days.

I watched his throat work as his gaze fell upon my mouth.

“Can I tell you something, Marshmallow?” he asked, his voice rough.

I nodded, not quite able to speak.

I should step away, but I couldn’t make myself do it. Instead, my body betrayed me and I leaned a little closer.

“We’re not two trains crashing into devastation,” he said.

“We’re not?” My voice sounded weak, a whisper, a hope.

“We’re two lost socks, abandoned at the laundromat.”

I laughed, openly, surprising myself.

Levi didn’t laugh, though. He placed his palm on the small of my back and spread his fingers across my skin.

Heat spread through my middle, and suddenly being a sock didn’t seem so funny.

“Who loses a whole pair of socks?” I whispered. “It’s always just the one, leaving the other useless and alone.”

“We didn’t come from the same pair,” he said. “But we match.”

It was weird and corny and beautiful. I’d never felt so seen. I’d never wanted another moment to go on for an eternity just like this yet wish so much that it would end.

Because I wanted what came after.

His lips moved in, or maybe mine did, I couldn’t say for sure. But he was only a breath away. My heart fluttered.

After my proclamations of how our first kiss had meant nothing, how it had been a mistake, he wasn’t going to push me now. He’d wait an inch away, for me to decide.

So I kissed him, again, and this time there was no explaining it away.

CHAPTER 20

GRETA

My butt grew numb from sitting on the concrete steps by the back door of Bernadette’s house. Imogen, completely re-energized by her sugar high, remained standing, watching through the window at absolutely nothing happening inside.

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