Page 46 of Dear Adam
“Thank you,” I manage between bites. “For everything.”
“If I would’ve known all I needed to make you happy was buy you food, I would’ve tried that a long time ago,” he jokes.
I shove him playfully on the arm and swallow the last bite of warm, buttery lobster. “Seriously,” I say and hesitate before quietly adding, “I’m glad you came back. I know you did it for Adam, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”
For a second he doesn’t say anything, simply watches me over the brim of his solo cup. Then he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and leans in for a kiss. I don’t allow myself more than a second to think about my buttery, greasy lips or salt-smudged glasses because when his lips collide with mine, It’s only Levi, me, and the privacy of this beach.
“Me too,” he whispers between kisses.
A yip erupts from somewhere below me, and I pull back to find Pretzel standing on her hind legs, staring at me expectantly.
“What’s wrong, girl?” I ask and scoop her into my arms. She nuzzles into me and gives me a small lick on the nose. “I think she misses Adam,” I tell Levi.
“She probably does,” he says and reaches over to scratch her behind her ear. “What if…” he trails off with a half chuckle before shaking his head. “Never mind.”
“What if what?” I press.
“I mentioned it before but it was a crazy idea that would never work.” I pout and stare up at him through my lashes as best I can. Eventually, he caves, saying, “I was just going to suggest…what if we snuck Pretzel into the hospital? You know, just so she could see him. It might even be good for him, too. Who knows?”
“You really think we can get away with it?” My mind immediately flashes to Pretzel and me behind bars, wearing matching orange jumpsuits. I know for a fact orange is not my color and would clash horribly with Pretzel’s markings. Images of the meme of Pretzel in her goggles strapped to my chest on my Vespa with the headline, “Local business owner and dog currently serving time in county jail,” float around my mind as Levi takes Pretzel from me. She's all big eyes and sweet kisses for him. When she rolls onto her back and sticks out her tongue, I can’t help but purse my lips in disappointment.
“She’s obviously never heard of playing hard to get.”
“She doesn’t have to,” he replies in a baby voice. “But seriously, she’s small and doesn’t really bark that much. I think we could do it.”
His eyes meet mine and his smile is so devilish, so cocky, I melt right there under the southern sunset.
Chapter twenty-one
Levi
“Areyousurethewigs are really necessary?” I ask Aly as I push the curly, blond wig out of my eyes for the millionth time. “And did you really need to give me boobs?” I glance down at the two oranges she shoved under my shirt and notice one is dangerously close to the waistband of my pants. I was serious when I had suggested we sneak Pretzel into the hospital, butnotwhen I suggested we do it incognito. Leave it to her to go all out and come up with the most ridiculous disguises.
A typical light and fluffy giggle escapes her, and she immediately covers it with a cough and switches to a huskier chuckle.
“Did that sound real?” she whispers.
“Do you think that’s whatIsound like?” I ask, pointing to myself and accidentally jabbing at the one orange that managed to stay in place. But it rolls down to my waistband, too, matching the other one.
“Fix your…” she gestures to my chest. “All that.”
I roll my eyes and reposition the oranges, but something occurs to me. “Aly, I have a beard.”
She ignores me and opens the car door. I can’t help but shake my head at how ridiculous she looks in a pair of my jeans, which are cinched at the waist, and a too-big flannel tucked into them. Seeing her in my worn shirtwouldbe hot if she hadn’t pasted a fake, bushy mustache onto her top lip. It looks like a squirrel tail and kind of makes me want to gag. She walks around to the back seat to get Pretzel, who is wearing what looks like a potted plant atop of her head. Aly insisted she’d look like a succulent if anyone happened to peer into her purse.
She trips on my work boots she also insisted on wearing though they’re way too big for her and steadies herself with a hand on my bicep.
“Are you sure you don’t want to change your shoes?” I ask, knowing the entire roll of paper towels she shoved into the toe of each boots can’t be comfortable.
She considers this for a minute with a caress of her mustache then says, “No, I really want to look convincing.”Right.She hoists the bag with Pretzel onto her shoulder and marches towards the entrance of the hospital. “You coming?” she hollers over her shoulder.
“Do I have a choice?” I say, catching up with her.
She pauses outside the entrance and turns on me, expression serious. “Okay, here’s the plan. Don’t look anyone in the eyes, keep your head down, and if anyone yells at you to stop, don’t. Run. Capeesh?”
“Sounds like a great plan,” I say sarcastically.
“Here we go!” She claps her hands and lets out a squeal of excitement and the sliding glass doors open leaving me to follow. She’s the definition of suspicious, power walking and tripping through the lobby toward the elevators. Breaking rule number one, I look up and make eye contact with one of the security guards standing by the front desk. He gives me a quizzical look, and I immediately glance down…at the oranges that have once again slid to my belly button.
