“I’m serious,” he continues. “I have a better bed. Better cat. Better hummingbirds.”
“Lies. There are no hummingbirds in your garden.”
“They show up when you’re not around. You’ll have to move in to see them.”
“Rocío might notice.”
He is quiet, waiting for me to elaborate. “And?”
“Then Kaylee would. And she might tell others. If I’d found out that Sam was screwing Dr. Mosley on the side, I’d have hollered it to the winds.” I frown. “I’m a monster. Poor Sam.”
“If Kaylee tells others, then she tells others. That’s not a problem.”
I rub my eyes. “I’m not sure I want your entire team to know that I’m having a thing with a colleague. It sounds like the type of thing . . .”
“。 . . for which women in STEM get unfair shit all the time?”
“Yup.”
“Fair. But even if Rocío noticed, she wouldn’t know that you are at my place. Plus she might have other stuff on her mind, given the number of times I’ve heard her and Kaylee call each other ‘babe’ in the last week.”
“True.” I bite my lower lip, actually considering moving in. Am I insane? I don’t think so. I just like him—like this, being with him. Fuckbuddyship with Levi Ward suits me, and I just want . . . a little more of it. “FYI, I wear a retainer at night.”
“Sexy.”
“And your bathroom will be stained purple forever. Seriously. Five showers and your bathtub will be a giant eggplant emoji.”
He gives me a solemn nod and pulls me closer. “It’s everything I ever wanted.”
* * *
? ? ?
IT’S SATURDAY MORNING and we’re cooking together—by which I mean Levi’s making pancakes and I’m standing next to him, stealing blueberries and telling him about The Mermaid’s Tale, the Young Adult book idea I’ve been nursing since grad school （nothing like a nanoscopic office and perennially skirting the poverty line to stimulate a gal’s imagination for escapist fiction）。
“Wait.” He frowns. “Ondine doesn’t know she’s half mermaid before joining the swim team?”
“Nope, she doesn’t know she was adopted. She finds out on the first practice, when they throw her in the water and she swims one lap in . . . I’ll have to research how long it takes to swim one lap, but she’s as fast as . . .”
“Michael Phelps?” Levi flips a pancake.
“Sure, whoever that is. And Joe Waters, cutest senior in school, sees her and becomes her faithful sidekick in her journey of self-discovery.”
“Do they end up together?”
“Nope. He goes to college, she sprouts a tail.”
“Can’t they do long distance?”
“No. I won’t lie to impressionable youths about the durability of human relationships.”
He scowls. “That’s a bad ending—”
“It’s not—it’s mer-mazing!”
“—and long-distance relationships are not a lie.”
“Happy-ending long-distance relationships sure are. Just like all other happy-ending relationships.”
He pins me with a look. The corners of the pancake are darkening dangerously. “And ours will end poorly, too?”
“Nah.” I wave my hand. “We’ll be fine, because we’re casual.”
He stiffens, lips thinning. “I see.” He relaxes with visible effort, and . . . there’s something odd about his expression.
“What’s that face?” I ask.
“What face?”
“That one. The one you put on when you’re about to try to convince me that Nirvana is better than Ani DiFranco.”
“I’m not going to try to convince you.”
“Ah. So you admit that I’m right.”
“You’re not right. You’re stubborn, and misguided, and often wrong—about music and other things. But there’s no use in trying to reason with you.” He leans closer and kisses me—lingering, soft, deep. I lose myself a little. “I’ll just have to show you.”
“Show me wh—？”
Levi’s phone rings. He takes a moment to turn off the stove before picking up. “Yes?”
The voice on the other end is almost familiar—Lily Sullivan.
“Hey. I’m with Bee.” I give him a curious look. Why would Lily know who I am? “Sure. Of course . . . I’ll ask.” He presses his phone against his shoulder, looking at me. “Any interest in spending a few hours hanging out with a six-year-old who wants to be a spider vet and has strong opinions on Pokémons?”