Love on the Brain

He’s so handsome. Stupidly, unjustly handsome. I want to look at his stupidly, unjustly handsome face for . . . for as long as I possibly can. Could be a minute. Hopefully, it’ll be seventy years.

“I must thank you. For saving Bee’s life,” she says solemnly. “To me, she is like a mother. The mother I never had.” “You have an amazing mother back in Baltimore,” I point out, “and I’m only five years older than you.” I am ignored. “I want to give you a token. To acknowledge your contributions.” “There’s no need,” Levi says, just as solemnly. Roc

I explained everything to NIH and my superiors, and of course I am begging you on my knees to return—” “You’re standing,” Rocío points out, unimpressed. Levi looks away, biting back a smile.

“Bee?” Levi says. “. . . Yeah?” “Can you do something for me, sweetheart?” Unlikely. “Yeah?” “I want you to take a step to your right. Another. Another.” My knee hits the edge of one of the lobby couches. Levi smiles, like he’s incredibly proud of me. “Perfect. Now sit down.” I do it, confused. There’s something wet on my hand. I look down: Félicet

You and Levi. Because, Bee—oh, Bee, he was obsessed with you. The second NIH nominated you, he had to make BLINK happen.

“I spent years—years—hoping to find another who could measure up. Hoping to feel something—anything—for someone else. And now you’re here, and—I have had you, Bee. I know how it can be. You think I don’t know what it feels like, to want something so much you’re afraid to let yourself take it? Even when it’s in front of you? Do you think I’m not fuc

Levi cups my face, forehead touching mine. His hands—they are my home. “Bee. Don’t take this from us,” he murmurs. Ragged. Careful. Hopeful. “Please.”

“And when you get tired of me?” I’m a wet, trembling mess. “When you can’t be around anymore? When you meet someone else?” “I won’t,” he says, and I hate how sure, how resigned he sounds. “You don’t know that. You can’t know that. You—” “There hasn’t been anyone else.” His jaw tenses and works. “Since the first moment I saw you. Since the first mom

“I can give you nice. I can give you better than nice. I can give you everything.” He smiles at me, full of hope. “You don’t even have to admit to yourself that you love me, Bee. God knows I love you enough for the both of us. But I need you to stay. I need you to stick around. Not in Houston, if you don’t want to. I’ll follow you, if you ask me to