Page 171 of Levi

“Nobody ever asked permission for anything they wanted off of me,” he says finally. “You’re the only one who ever asked to give me something.” He presses his mouth to my chest once, and settles. “Yes. I’ll let you. One condition.”

“Name it.”

“It runs both directions or it doesn’t run at all. Your rule. You have to let me take care of you back too. I’m not sure what I can do better than you but I’ll figure it out.”

“Deal,” I say, and feel him smile against my skin.

“My mother is going to lose her mind,” I say.

He lifts his head. “What? Why? Should I be worried?”

“No, it’s all good. My mother’s been texting me all week. ‘When are you finally bringing the singer to Miami?’ Those exact words. The singer. My sisters found the video of the bar the night it went up. The family chat has been a war zone ever since. They can’t wait to meet you. You’re already expected. There’s a place at their table with your name on it.”

He’s staring at me. “Your family knows about me?”

“My family has been rooting for me and you since before I’d admit to myself there was anything to root for.”

“And they’re happy about it?”

“Very happy. They’re going to adore you. Expect to be love-bombed. I’m not kidding. My mother is going to feed you until you fall over, cry the whole time, hug you constantly, and try to send you home with enough food for a month. That’s how she says love. With food. You had better show up with an appetite.”

He laughs, disbelieving, and presses his face back into my chest.

“You’ll meet most of them before we go to Miami though. My mother, my sisters, my tía Rosa. They’ve booked the trip for Benji’s wedding. My father will be staying in Miami. He drew the grandkids and my abuela, and he agreed to it before he understood what he was agreeing to.”

“When’s the wedding?” he asks.

“This fall, out on the Roadhouse deck, right at sunset. Benji’s been planning it since the day they got engaged, God help that florist. I’m the best man. Which means I’ll be standing up there in front of everyone we know here. And there is no version of that day, none, where you are not there right next to me. Benji was trying to set up an appointment to measure you for a tux with Tex and Stormy on the ride home tonight. He was already making big plans for you.”

“I never had anybody,” he says, barely a whisper. “There were lots of people around me, but nobody cared about me and I always knew it. They didn’t even pretend they did.” He swallows hard.

I tip his chin up so he has to look at me.

“You jumped off the highest place there was, and you landed in the middle of a big family who were already holding a seat for you. You’ve got me. You’ve got Benji and Mickey. You’ve got Tex, Stormy, and Sheila. You’ve got my Cuban family which you’ll find out is big and loud.” I hold his eyes. “You jumped thinking you might get to keep one person. Now you’ve got a lot of people in your corner and every single one of them chose you.”

And that’s what finally does it. He goes to pieces against my chest and he cries. The deep kind of crying, the kind that comes from finding real love after a lifetime of being alone.

I hold him through all of it, whispering in his ear, “Te amo. I love you. Te amo.”

He’s earned every tear. He can take all night if he needs it. Eventually he wears out and sleeps in a dead weight on my chest, trusting me to keep him safe. The load he’s hauled through his life alone is off him tonight.

Tomorrow the world comes for him. Freddie, the label, the internet. I can feel it gathering out there like a storm building offshore.

Let them come.

I’ll stand between him and them.

If they want a piece of him, they come through me.

Chapter 67: Levi

The car came to pick me up at quarter to five.

Not here at Dante’s. No, the car’s idling at the house, waiting on a man who isn’t coming. I know the time without opening my eyes because I’ve been bracing for it. My body’s been saying get up, get dressed, go where you’re pointed.

I don’t move.

I lie in Dante’s bed and listen to his steady heartbeat under my ear. The minutes go by. Somewhere out there a driver checks his watch and texts his dispatcher. Somewhere the machine starts to sputter and stalls, because the man it needs isn’t in the seat. I’m here instead with Dante’s even breath, keeping me calm.