His cheeks appear sharper, eyes deep-set, and light scruff covers his jaw. He looks different. His shoulders and chest have gotten even broader, his upper arms leaner, more toned. The air surrounding him feels more . . . calm, the complete opposite of the boy I walked away from back in January.
Hope beats wildly in my stomach. There’s a thudding in my ears as though my heart is trying to beat out of my chest and go to him. Fall at his feet.
Behind me, Ivan clears his throat, reminding me of his presence. I turn to face him just in time to see his gaze moving from me to Sol and back again, a conflicted look on his face.
“I don’t really know the protocol for a situation like this, so . . .”
“We’ll be okay,” I tell him.
Ivan looks at Sol, then back at me. “Are you two sure about this?”
Sol nods, putting the cap back on and tugging it lower on his forehead. “Thanks, man.”
“All right.” He turns to leave, pausing for a few seconds in the doorway and looking back at us.
He sighs, walks out, and shuts the door behind him.
Sol and I stare at each other from across the room. I don’t know what he sees in my eyes that has him closing the space between us, but then he halts suddenly, and mutters, “Gracie,” under his breath, sending my heart soaring.
I’m not sure what to do.
Should I hug him?
We haven’t seen each other since January. Our separation was so abrupt, and we never got a chance to say goodbye properly. He takes the decision out of my hands when he pulls me into his arms, wrapping them around me in a hug. My body freezes for a split second, but he tightens his embrace, and my body melts. It freaking melts, molding to his as if we’ve never been apart.
It feels too good.
I tell myself I’ll let him hold me for just a second longer.
One second turns to two. Two to three. And before I know it, I’ve overstayed my welcome in his arms. But God, he smells so good.
“Happy belated birthday,” I say, pulling my face away from his chest and stepping back. “You look different. And these babies—” I poke his arms, which are more toned than before, with visible veins. “Wow. What have you been bench-pressing? Mountains?”
He chuckles, his cheeks faintly flushing. “Uh, thanks?”
“What are you doing here, Sol?” I ask softly, watching him closely. He’s watching me, too. I wonder if he sees the need twisting in my gut. The love he’s awakened by just being here.
He opens his mouth to speak, and I hold my breath, waiting. Waiting for words to pour out of his mouth, and he says, “I wanted to see you”—and my eyes fall to his mouth, my breath hiking at his words—“because I’m leaving.”
And just like that, my world comes to a stop. “What?”
He takes a step forward, closing the distance between us. My eyes drop to his chest, afraid he’ll see the naked truth in them.
“I’m leaving for Italy,” he says in a low voice.
“When?” I say the word in a hush of a whisper. Then I clear my throat and repeat in a much stronger voice, “When do you leave?”
“In three days.”
“Oh.”
“Grace—Gracie. Look at me, please.”
His desperate plea splinters me in half, forcing me to obey. Sol is about to say something when a yell on the other side of the door makes him pause. His expression falters as recognition fills his features.
Oh, God. Levi.
Levi’s here.
Crap.
I hear Ivan talking to him in a low voice, then silence. A few moments later, the voices drift farther, followed by the sound of footfalls as Ivan and Levi head downstairs.
Relief rushes through me. When I hurried over here, I was so worried. Then Ivan told me Sol was here, and I forgot everything else, everyone else, as my thoughts centered on that piece of news.
Seeing Sol standing in front of me makes me realize how much I missed talking to him. All this time, I’d conditioned my heart not to miss him. The distance helped, and school has been a big distraction. But now, he’s standing in front of me, and the only thing I can think about is saying goodbye. He’s leaving. I won’t let him leave without properly saying goodbye. Not this time.
If Sol and I are going to finish this talk, we can’t do it here.
“Um, want to grab a coffee? There’s a place a few blocks from here. We could talk, or I don’t know . . .”
“I do. I mean, I have time for coffee,” Sol says quickly. He clears his throat and steps back, sliding his hands in his jeans pockets. “I’d love to talk.”
I open the door and step out of the room, looking over my shoulder at Sol. “Come on. I know this place near campus that has great coffee.”
I feel the heat of his body on my back as I walk down the hall and into the living room. Four pairs of eyes dart in our direction as soon as Sol and I enter. My gaze connects with Levi, and his moves from me to Sol, then back to me. His lips tighten in displeasure as realization fills his features.
He stands and walks toward us. “Hey.”
I’m so nervous even though I have no reason to feel like this. I’m not doing anything wrong.
“Levi, hey!” I blurt out. “You remember Sol from the concert last summer?”
“Oh, yeah. I remember.” Levi’s clenching his teeth as he frowns at Sol and sticks out his hand in Sol’s direction. After what feels like the longest handshake in the history of handshakes, they pull apart. “What are you doing here?”
“Just dropping by for a visit,” Sol says in a nonchalant voice, but the muscle twitching in his jaw tells a different story. Then he turns to look at me and his features relax, his eyes turning soft. “Ready to go, Grace?”
“Where are you guys headed?” Levi asks.
“Just out for a walk,” I answer quickly, hoping to diffuse the growing tension.
Levi frowns, his mouth turning down in irritation. His eyes move to Sol, and I can see so many questions in their depths. But he blinks, and the look is gone, replaced by a neutral expression. Gone is the playfulness that normally dominates his gaze, and it causes my heart to twist in this weird way. I never thought disappointing Levi would make me feel this . . . horrible.
He steps away from me and stalks past Gage and Ivan, who’re watching us. He yanks the front door open and storms out.
I turn to face Sol. “I need to talk to Levi, okay? Just, please give me a few minutes.”
He opens his mouth to say something but closes it and nods. He glares at the back of Levi’s head and mutters, “Sure, yeah. Go ahead.”
I spin around and jog after Levi and call out, “Levi!”
He stops but doesn’t turn around to look at me. “What’s he doing here?” His head slants back and stares at the sky as he asks, “Are you two still, you know . . . I mean, shouldn’t he be in Boston being a priest or something?”
“Um, it’s a long story . . .”
His shoulders rise as he takes a deep, audible breath, then he turns around to look at me. His face is blank. His fingers are white from gripping the keys to his car so tightly. The pained look on his face causes my chest to ache. Suddenly, I realize his opinion of me matters. Levi and I have gotten close these past weeks, and I like him a lot. I haven’t had a lot of friends in the past, so I’m not about to lose one of the few people who’ve shown me kindness.