That selflessness got her. She’d felt it once, with her grandparents. But like most good things in her life, it hadn’t lasted.
Levi’s hand slipped into hers, and she started.
“It’s going to be okay,” he said, comforting her even though he was the one who was hurt. “We’re going to be okay.”
That’s when she realized she was shaking.
Swearing again, Levi sat up with some difficulty, but determined, he leaned against the bench, where he tucked her into his side so that they were sharing body heat, snuggling her in close. “Hug me,” he said. “I’m scared.”
She looked into his eyes. He wasn’t scared—or at least he wasn’t letting it show—but she took the out and pretended it was for him anyway, gratefully moving in against his body.
“We really are going to be okay,” he said softly near her ear.
And even though she knew he was just trying to make her feel better, the same way he’d done with his mom, she found herself nodding. “I know.” The guy had an optimistic outlook, like he truly believed deep in his soul that someone would come for them. Since she couldn’t remember anyone ever coming to her rescue, this blind faith was utterly foreign to her. That’s when she realized the weight of his arm had just gotten heavier. “Levi? Stay awake.”
“Tired.”
An adrenaline crash and also a likely concussion were causing that, but he needed to stay awake. “Hey, so how often do you come home to visit your family?” she asked urgently.
“Mostly only when it’s a command performance . . . by the one person on the planet who can guilt me into it.”
She tilted her head to look up at him. “Your mom?”
“She likes to remind me that thirty years ago she labored for well over twenty-four hours to birth me, ruining her figure in the process. Translation: I owe her.”
Jane started to say something like how horrible of her, but Levi’s voice had been warm with affection. They were quiet for a moment, in their bubble from the real world, Levi’s arm around her, her body curled into his side, sharing body heat. Daylight was fading as the snow swirled all around them, blocking out everything else.
“Any regrets?” he asked.
“You mean because we might die?”
“Let’s not.”
She let out a rough laugh. “Agree, let’s not.”
“So . . . ?”
She shrugged. “I hate regrets. I try really hard not to have them.”
“Which didn’t answer my question,” he said.
“Okay, fine, maybe there are a few regrets . . .” She drew a deep breath as she thought about how she’d lost touch with her grandpa. She supposed no matter how hard she’d tried, she did indeed have regrets. “I lost touch with someone important to me,” she admitted. “And the more time that goes by, the harder it is to figure out how to find my way back.”
Levi’s eyes held hers as he gave a barely-there nod of understanding. “I get that. I . . . hurt someone important to me once.” His gaze went faraway, like he was lost in the memories. “She wanted more than I was capable of giving her back then.”
She had to admit to being curious, but she was grateful he hadn’t pressed her for more details, so she had to afford him the same courtesy. “And now?” she asked.
“And now it’s too late.”
Something else she could understand all too well. “So we both suck,” she said.
He snorted, and they were quiet a moment.