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“How would you like those steaks cooked?” Walter asks.

I freeze, looking at Levi with wide eyes. He’s still hiding a laugh, this time by placing a menu in front of his face. Yet, I can tell by the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that he’s trying to hold back laughter.

“Um, well done?” I ask, voice going high and squeaky.

At this, Levi’s eyes go comically large and he frantically shakes his head at me.

“Oh, I misspoke.” I laugh, trying to decipher what Levi is mouthing at me. “Well? Me—medium well?”

Levi sighs in relief.

I turn my smile on Walter. “Medium well for both, and we’ll do the olive cake for dessert,” I say, closing the menu in front of me and handing it to him.

“Of course,” Walter says enthusiastically. “Your appetizers will be out shortly.”

“Thank you.” Levi coughs into his fist.

“Thank you, Walter,” I say cheerfully.

Once our poor waiter is out of shot, Levi bursts into laughter. I join in and lean over the table slightly, smacking his hand. “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’m not,” he says, wiping…is that a tear at the corner of his eye? “I’m not laughing at you. I promise,” he repeats, shoulders moving up and down as he chuckles.

“I know, I’m just teasing you,” I say, holding his hand across the table.

“Fuck, I love you,” he says, squeezing my hand.

My breath stutters and my heart stops beating for a second. Did he⁠—

Levi’s smile softens, his green eyes brimming with emotion.

Fuck.

He did.

I squeeze his hand back and bite my bottom lip. My eyes fill with tears as I take a deep breath and say, “I love you, too.”

He breathes out, almost in relief. I push my chair back and stand, rounding the table to where Levi is sitting. He pushes his own chair back just enough to make room for me, and I sit sideways in his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His right hand lands on my waist, the left one across my thighs, holding tight. In this moment, everything else fades. The light jazz playing in the background, the faint conversations from other tables, the clinking of plates and glasses. It’s just me and Levi.

I bring a hand to his jaw and bring his mouth to mine. A tear slips out and lands on his cheek. I pull back with a small laugh, wiping it away. “My life is still a hot mess, but the one thing I know for certain is that I love you, so much,” I say, kissing him again.

Levi sighs contently against my lips, like he’s been wanting—no, needing—to hear those words.

“We’ll figure everything out. Together,” he says.

“Are you sure?” I laugh, wiping another tear away from my eyes. Leaning in, I whisper, “I don’t even know what beef tartare is.”

Levi laughs again, pressing his lips to my neck. “I’m sure, baby.”

A week later, Levi takes me on me the motorcycle ride he promised. We did win the pro-am, after all. I swing my leg over and hop down, a giant smile on my face. He can’t see it on account of the helmet, but when he flips his visor up, I see his eyes crinkling at the corners too.

When he pulls the bike into a parking spot outside the clubhouse, he helps me take off the helmet and I shake my hair out, my curls bouncing with the movement.

“So, what did you think?” he asks, looking down at the fancy sports motorcycle. The adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, and I squeeze my thighs together.

What do I think? I think Levi looks hot as fuck in leather pants and a motorcycle jacket, his green eyes stark and intense behind that helmet. I think I want to do very, very naughty things to him. Preferably on top of the motorcycle.