Page 31 of Let it Sizzle
Byron stands next to him, relaxed now, no tension in his stance, no distrust in his eyes. It took time, forgiveness, hard conversations, and stubborn love, but he finally sees it. Sees how Levi loves me. How Levi chooses me every day. And how I finally choose myself too.
Levi’s head lifts, and even across the crowd, I feel it—the pull, the invisible string that tethers me to him. He grins that slow, cocky smile that turns my insides into syrup and starts walking toward me, each step confident, deliberate, sure. When he reaches me, he doesn't say anything at first. He just cups the back of my neck, dips his head low, and kisses me like he’s never getting enough, like he’ll spend the rest of his life memorizing the shape of my mouth.
I’m still catching my breath when Byron strolls up beside us, his arms crossed over his chest, watching the two of us with a suspiciously neutral expression. Levi doesn’t move away from me, doesn’t hide what I am to him, and that tiny defiant tilt of his chin makes my heart squeeze so tight it aches.
Byron lifts a brow. "You know if you hurt her, I still get to set you on fire, right?"
Levi smirks, pure unbothered cockiness, and slips his arm fully around my waist, pulling me flush against his side. “As well you should. It’d be the only fitting punishment for someone crazy enough to leave this girl.”
Byron grunts, a half-laugh escaping him, and shakes his head. "Good. Because I’m finally getting used to this smiley version of her." His gaze softens when he looks at me, and I blink fast to keep the stupid tears from spilling. "Took you long enough to come home, little sister."
"I’m not going anywhere," I promise, my voice thick with all the things I can’t quite say out loud yet.
“Good, because…” Levi’s hand tightens on mine—and without missing a beat, he drops down on one knee right there in the middle of the chaos.
The world stops.
Completely and beautifully stops.
My breath catches in my throat as he pulls out a small velvet box and flips it open to reveal a ring so perfectly simple it feels like it was made just for me—like he knew I never needed grand gestures, just something real, something lasting.
"For the girl who taught me how to stay," he says, his voice low and thick with emotion, "for the woman who made me believe in forever. Say yes, Serena. Marry me."
Tears flood my eyes, spilling over in a hot rush, and I nod so hard I almost fall over. "Yes," I choke out, my voice breaking with happiness. "Yes, Levi. Always, yes."
He stands and sweeps me into his arms just as the entire firehouse erupts into cheers, whoops, and Maddox shouting something wildly inappropriate about how I should have "taken him for a test drive first." Levi laughs against my hair, clutching me tight, while Byron—my stubborn, protective brother—wraps his arm around both of us in a rough, awkward hug that means everything.
"Welcome to the family officially, jackass," Byron mutters, and for once, there’s no heat behind the words. Only pride.
And somewhere between all the noise and the chaos and the sheer impossible joy of it all, I realize—I’m not the girl who had to be rescued anymore.
I’m the woman someone stayed for. The woman someone loved, completely, exactly as she is. And for the first time in my life, I feel more than enough.
I feel unstoppable.
Chapter 12
Levi
5 years later
The lake looks exactly like it always did—still, shimmering, endless, the surface catching the afternoon light in a way that makes the whole world feel softer somehow. I sit on the picnic blanket with a baby curled against my chest and a toddler plopped in my lap, her sticky fingers smearing ice cream across my jeans as she giggles at nothing and everything.
Levi lounges beside me, stretched out lazily on one elbow, his other arm looped around my waist like he’s afraid I’ll float away if he lets go. His body is warm against mine, solid and steady, and every time he shifts closer, I catch the familiar scent of soap, smoke, and Levi that always makes my heart stumble.
Callie, our wild three-year-old, insists on handing her half-melted cone to her baby brother, Jackson, who blinks up at her with big, serious eyes before trying to shove the entire thing into his tiny mouth. Ice cream drips onto his chubby thighs, and he squeals with delight, smearing it even worse.
"Think he’s gonna be a firefighter too?" Levi rumbles, nudging my knee with his.
I glance down at Jackson, currently waging a war between the ice cream and a handful of crushed grass, and shake my head fondly. "I think he’s going to rule the world."
Levi chuckles low in his chest, and the sound vibrates right through me, warm and good and so achingly familiar that mythroat tightens. "You’re probably right," he says, pressing a kiss against my temple like he just can’t help it. "He’s got his mama’s fight."
I lean into him without thinking, soaking in his strength, his certainty, the way he’s always been my safe place. Sometimes it still feels surreal—this life we built together. The little house we renovated on Maple Lane with the crooked porch swing. The bedtime routines filled with bear stories and brave little girls who never gave up. The walls lined with framed art fromThe Bear Who Stayedand the two bestselling children’s books that came after.
I still get messages sometimes. Emails from strangers who say they found hope between my pages. That they saw themselves in the girl lost in the woods. That they finally believed they deserved to be loved, too. Every time I read one, I think about Levi. About how he saw me long before I knew how to see myself.
About how he never stopped.
