Horns continued to blare as cars drove around mine.

“What are you doing up here?” I asked.

She leaned away and smiled widely. “Waiting for you.”

“On a bridge?” I asked, incredulously.

“It’s a tiny bridge, Sam.” She glanced down at the water below. “I’m not even sure if that fall would have broken my legs.”

“I don’t give a fuck if it’s a log over a ditch. It’s still a bridge,” I snapped.

Her eyes narrowed at my outburst. “Well, you found me, didn’t you? I’m fine.”

I flinched at her word choice. “Yes, after searching every bridge in this city. I was scared to fucking death, Levee.”

Her attitude slipped. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that. Jumping isn’t at all why I’m here. I swear. Actually, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since I’ve been up here. I’m not sure I ever wanted to kill myself, Sam. It was just the idea of escaping all the chaos and overwhelming guilt I had in my life that sounded so appealing. But that doesn’t mean jumping—it just means making some changes. Changes I’m officially ready to make now.” She smiled proudly.

And, truth be told, I was proud of her too.

I was also frustrated.

“You couldn’t call and tell me that? Maybe wait for me at Starbucks?”

She darted her gaze away, embarrassed. “See, funny thing about cell phones. I don’t actually know your number by memory.”

I rolled my eyes and started to give her more shit when a soda cup hit me in the back of the head. A motorist shouted from his car, “Move, asshole!”

“Son of a bitch!” I cursed, wiping the liquid off the back of my shirt.

I scowled when Levee began giggling.

The smile she tossed back at me immeasurably eased the vise on my chest.

She was…really and truly…fine.

And, as she flipped off the angry soda guy as he sped away, it didn’t even pain me to admit it.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said, tugging on her arm. “No more fucking bridges. I’m officially making solid ground our thing.”

She nodded enthusiastically and followed me to the car.

“I’m sorry, Henry. I’m serious,” Levee said into the phone as I put my cigarette out and headed back through the balcony door to join her on the bed.

We were in a budget hotel not far from the bridge where I’d found her.

I had attempted to take Levee back to the rehab center, but she quickly put that idea on the back burner by dropping her hand into my lap. I wasn’t budging on the fact that we needed to talk about what had led her to bolt the way she had.

But I was a man, and I hadn’t seen her in weeks.

A hotel room at least kept my options open for after that chat.

“Hey, my mom is beeping in again. I’ll call you in a little while. Okay. I love you too.”

She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to switch calls.

“I’m fine!” Levee huffed into the phone without so much as a greeting. “No! Do not come to Maine, Mom.” She groaned before copping an attitude. “Well, I guess you can, but I won’t be here.” She shot me an exasperated look then rolled her eyes. “Okay, I need to go. Yep. I’m great. Uh-huh. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye.”

Her mom was still talking on the other end when she hung up.

She tossed my phone on the bed and sighed, flopping down beside me. “You would think that I was lost on the streets of Abu Dhabi for a month.”

“They were worried, Levee.”

She curled into my arms, tangling her legs with mine. “Oh bullshit. Dad’s mistress was probably worried this would affect her new jewelry collection, and Mom was probably just concerned that she’d have to finally acknowledge her at my funeral. Ick!” Her shoulders shuddered in disgust. “There is a reason I don’t talk to my parents. I’ll sign a check any day of the week if it keeps them in Arizona and away from me.”

I filed that little rant in the things-to-ask-Levee-about-when-we-didn’t-have-a-million-other-things-to-talk-about folder in the back of my mind.

With a sigh, she shifted her head onto my pillow and placed a kiss on my lips. It started out as chaste, but it didn’t take long before our tongues were gliding against each other and our bodies found a similar rhythm, grinding together.

“Why are you wearing so much clothes?” she asked, slinging a leg over my hips to rub her core over my cock, which was unfortunately still hidden within the denim.

“Because I want to talk to you about today.” I grabbed her ass to still her movements.

“Ugh! I swear you are the most talkative man I’ve ever met. You’re supposed to want to have sex all the time, and I’m supposed to want to talk. Which I don’t. So let’s skip to the sex part.”

She went in for another kiss, but I placed my lips on her forehead instead.

“Tell me why you were on the bridge, Levee,” I whispered.

“I already told you. I didn’t have my phone, and I knew that was where you’d look for me.”

“Not the one today. The one when we first met.”

Her whole body stiffened in my arms. “I…uh…I guess was just exhausted and overwhelmed.” She shrugged.

“That I know. You have to give me more though.”

She rolled to her back and blew a breath out but didn’t say a single word.

“Tell me why you were on the bridge, Levee,” I urged again.

She finally lifted her head and bluntly said, “Because I was a walking disaster.”

Her use of past tense encouraged me.

I brushed the hair off her neck and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “No you weren’t.”

“I really was, Sam.” She smiled tightly. “I couldn’t shut down anymore. You know that feeling you get in your stomach from a sudden drop? Mine felt like that all the time. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I was just stressed about everything. Especially all the kids like Morgan dying at children’s hospitals.”

My head snapped back. “What?”

“I can’t visit them all. I just can’t. I do my best, but do you have any idea how many dying kids there are out there?” She pushed out of my arms and got to her feet. “It’s so fucking unfair.” Her chin quivered as she began to pace while chewing on her thumbnail.

I sat up on the bed. “Levee, Morgan isn’t dying.”

She stopped, and her eyes jumped to mine.

“She was released a few days ago, actually. She was only at the hospital because she kept getting sick during her treatments. So they moved her to a more sterile environment.”

She swallowed hard, and tears filled her eyes. “Really?”

“Do you even ask about these dying kids you go see?”

“No. I’m not going to invade their privacy by asking a million questions. When I go, it’s to offer them a diversion, not to remind them why they are there in the first place.”

“Levee, you’re killing yourself with guilt over sick kids who are fighting and winning.”

“They aren’t all winning, Sam.” Her voice cracked at the end.

I kept my tone soft but firm. “But a lot of them are. Focus on the right part of that equation. No wonder you’re depressed. You think every kid who visits a hospital is dying.”

“I don’t think they all are….but—”

I interrupted her again before she had the chance to muddle it back up in her head. “Hospitals are where kids go to get better. Yes, some lose their battles, but most do not.”

“But some do,” she snapped. Hanging her head, she whispered, “My sister, Lizzy, died in a hospital three weeks after she was diagnosed with leukemia.”

And there it was.

Levee had a past of her own.

And just knowing that we shared something so similar gutted me.

“C’mere,” I said, but I didn’t wait for her to obey. I went to her.

Her arms were tucked between us, but she accepted my embrace, leaning her head into the base of my neck. I backed her toward the bed then turned at the last second and pulled her down on top of me.