Page 58 of Broken Vows

His mouth twitches, but he lets me keep hold of my side while he takes most of the weight. Together we wrestle the box out of the boot and carry it around to the backyard—though really, it’s mostly Levi carrying it while I provide moral support with my fingertips. By the time he sets it down on the grass with a heavy thud, the tightness around his mouth tells me his shoulder is bothering him more than he’ll ever admit.

Theo is practically vibrating with excitement. “Can we set it up now? Please?”

Levi looks at the box, then at the fading afternoon light, then at Theo’s hopeful face.

“Fine.”

I feel a quiet rush of affection. Levi might be a grump most of the time, but when it comes to Theo, there’s a softness there if you pay attention.

The two of them get to work on the grass. Theo hands over pieces in the wrong order while Levi frowns at the instruction booklet. There’s a lot of muttering. Some swearing. Several long silences while Levi stares at two nearly identical metal poles.

I stay quiet.

I probably should say something about the language, but Theo is glowing, and Levi keeps catching himself after the worst words. Once, he starts to say something truly terrible, glances at me, and changes it to “absolute…piece of engineering.”

Theo looks confused. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

It takes nearly half an hour, but eventually the hoop stands upright in the yard. It leans slightly to the left until Levi adjusts the base, and then it settles properly.

Theo grabs the ball and takes his first shot.

He misses.

He doesn’t care. He shouts with joy anyway and races after it.

Levi comes over and leans against the fence beside me, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“Happy now?” he asks. “We’re going to be hearing that ball slamming against the ground all day and night. Doris next door is going to lose her mind.”

I glance at Theo, who is lining up another terrible shot with a huge grin on his face.

“I think you can handle Doris.”

Levi looks at me, and then he smiles. Not his usual smirk—the arrogant one that usually means trouble. This one is small, tired, and almost unwilling, but it softens his whole face for a moment. My stomach does something I have absolutely no interest in examining.

We stand there in comfortable silence, watching Theo miss the hoop from three different angles.

Then Levi clears his throat.

“You need me to come over later?” he asks. “Help with the math?”

I keep my eyes on Theo. “I’m doing better with it.”

“That a yes or no?”

“That was a no.” I glance at the ground. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Last time things got complicated.”

“They got good,” he says.

“They got complicated,” I repeat, my voice softer than I intended. “And I need a little space to think.”

Something flickers across Levi’s expression—frustration, maybe, or disappointment. I’m starting to recognize the difference, and that feels dangerous too.

I reach out before I can stop myself and rest my fingers lightly on his good arm. His skin is warm from the work, the muscle solid beneath my touch.

“But thank you for today,” I say. “For the hoop. Theo really looks up to you, and I’m starting to think that might not be the worst thing in the world.”

Levi goes very still. Then he clears his throat, a small, crooked smirk tugging at his mouth as he tries to recover.