Page 19 of Stuck with the Hero Next Door

Levi didn’t say anything, just nodded slowly, giving me room.

“My mom talked about moving back there for years. It was her hometown. She wanted to teach at the same school she once attended, maybe even retire there. When she got sick, it became...this thing I clung to. Like if I could get there, finish what she started, I could hold onto her somehow.”

I smiled, but it was small and crooked. “I didn’t realize how much of her dream I’d turned into my own until recently.”

Levi took a slow sip from his mug. “And now?”

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Miller’s Pass felt right when it was all theory and job listings and spreadsheets. But being here...things feel different. I feel different.”

He studied me, quiet and steady. “Different how?”

“Like I’m allowed to breathe again. Like I’m not just surviving.”

A flicker of something passed through his expression—understanding, maybe. He didn’t say it, but I could feel it in the way he leaned in a little, like he knew exactly what it meant to go from holding your breath to exhaling.

“I’ll say this,” he said after a beat. “You don’t look like someone just passing through.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Is that your way of saying I blend in?”

His smile tilted sideways. “It’s my way of saying, ‘Give yourself some time to think. Think things over and find out what you really want before moving on.”

The words landed with an unexpected thud in my chest. I looked out over the lake, needing a second.

“You know,” I said, trying for lighter, “your mom and your sister—they’re not exactly subtle.”

Levi laughed softly, setting his mug down. “No, they’re not. Subtlety isn’t in the family playbook.”

“Janet pretty much threw me at you with that dinner plan.”

“She has a flair for theatrics.” His tone was amused.

“And your mom,” I added, grinning. “She’s got that matchmaking glint in her eye. I’ve seen it before.”

Levi let out a soft chuckle. “She thinks I need help.”

“Do you?”

The question slipped out before I could stop it, more playful than pointed. He tilted his head, considering.

“Maybe I used to,” he said finally. “But now...maybe I’m just waiting for the right person to notice.”

My heart thudded once, loud and traitorous. I looked away quickly, tucking my hair behind my ear.

“Well,” I said, pretending to focus on the lake again, “they’re certainly making a team effort.”

“They mean well,” he said quietly. “But when you’ve been rooted here for as long as I have, it’s hard to find someone that you don’t already have a history with or someone that hasn’t dated your best friend.”

His statement echoed as the wind shifted slightly, rustling the trees. I held my mug tighter, wondering if I’d ever felt that rooted.

The lake had grown quieter as the sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long and soft across the shore. Levi reached over and topped off my coffee, the thermos between us a kind of offering. I thanked him with a quiet smile, and for a while, we both just watched the water, listening to the hush of wind in the trees and the gentle lapping at the rocks.

“That would cause a problem,” I said, my voice softer.

He nodded, the smell of coffee a comfort to my heart. “I think I forgot what that feels like. Just...being.”

He glanced over at me, not saying anything, but his eyes were patient. He didn’t press, didn’t fill the silence with half-thoughts or stories meant to distract. He just sat with me. Present. Steady.

It was a strange type of comfort I didn’t know I needed until I had it.