40. Brielle

The clink and clamor of the amusement park swirl around me, a cacophony of laughter and mechanical whirs. I'm tying balloons at a booth, part of my community service requirement for college, when the scent of cotton candy sweetens the air. I straighten up, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face, and that's when I see him.

"Levi," I say, a bit breathless. He's here, amidst the throng of excited kids and overzealous parents, his presence like a calm in the storm.

"Hey, Brielle." His smile is easy, but there's something new in his eyes as they flick to a small figure beside him—someone I've never seen before. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping out." I gesture to the booth, to the sea of colorful balloons bobbing in the breeze.

"Right. Community engagement?" he asks.

"Exactly."

He nods, then turns slightly, pulling the little girl forward. She's hesitant, clutching the hem of her dress. "This is Amelia, my daughter."

My heart does a strange flip. Daughter? Levi with a child, a family? The idea rattles in my brain, dislodging the image I had of him—Levi, the brooding hot guy with no strings attached. Now he's Levi, the dad.

"Wow, I had no idea…" I trail off, looking down at Amelia, who offers me a shy smile that mirrors her father's. "It's nice to meet you, Amelia."

"Are you going to ride the roller coasters too?" Amelia's voice is hopeful, her grip on the bear loosening.

"Maybe later," I say, returning her smile. "I have to make sure these balloons don't fly away first."

"Can I have one?" she asks, eyes wide as she points to a balloon shaped like a heart.

"Of course, pick your favorite."

As she ponders her choice, I steal a questioning glance at Levi. Amelia isn't paying any attention to us, so I take a moment to ask quietly, "Are you…still with her mother?"

"Divorced," he whispers in response, looking slightly hurt by the question. "I would have told you otherwise, Brielle, I swear."

I'm relieved by his words, and give him a nod to show I understand.

Fatherhood suits him, softens the hard edges I've seen in him. It's a side of Levi I never knew existed, and it tugs at something deep within me, curiosity mixed with admiration.

And surprise. Always surprise with Levi.

Amelia's tiny hand wraps around the string of a pink heart balloon, her eyes lighting up. She glances from the balloon to me, then back again.

"Can you come with us?" she asks, her voice a hopeful lilt that makes it impossible to look away.

I hesitate. The plan is to work the booth, not play chaperone. But one look at her eager face and my resolve wavers.

"Please?" Amelia tugs at Levi's hand, her other still gripping the balloon string.

Levi looks between his daughter and me, conflict etching lines on his forehead. "I don't know, Amelia…" he starts but doesn't finish.

"Come on, Daddy. It'll be fun!" Amelia bounces on the balls of her feet, the balloon bobbing above her.

"Can you?" Levi's question is for me, his eyes searching, asking more than what's on the surface.

"Sure. Why not?" I answer, my words more reckless than I feel.

Levi nods, a reluctant smile creeping onto his face. He's cautious, protective.

"Yay!" Amelia claps, grabbing my hand with her free one. Her small fingers are warm and trusting.

"First ride?" Levi asks, a note of amusement in his tone as we start walking.

"Carousel!" Amelia pulls us forward, skipping ahead.

We weave through the crowd, past colorful booths and the smell of popcorn and cotton candy. The carousel music grows louder, inviting. Amelia rushes toward her chosen steed, a prancing white horse with golden reins. Levi helps her up before looking over at me.

"Joining us?" He raises an eyebrow, half challenge, half tease.

"Wouldn't miss it," I say, swinging onto the horse next to Amelia's.

The ride swirls into motion, lights blurring, music swirling with laughter. Amelia waves each time we pass Levi, who stands by the fence, phone out, capturing the moment.

"Again!" Amelia cries out as the ride slows. And so we go again.

Later, we try game booths. Levi wins Amelia a giant blue bear at the ring toss. His throw is precise, effortless. The stuffed animal is almost as big as she is, but she hugs it tight, declaring it needs a friend for the pink balloon.

"Your turn." Levi hands me a ring.

"Watch and learn," I tease, tossing it—clumsy, laughing when it lands nowhere near a bottle.

"Guess I'm better with balloons." I shrug, and Levi chuckles, a rich sound that warms me more than the afternoon sun.

We eat greasy pizza slices on paper plates, and share a mountain of cotton candy that turns our tongues blue. Amelia tells stories about school, about her friends. Levi listens, interjects with questions, his attention never wavering from his daughter.

"Best day ever!" Amelia declares, mouth smeared with sugar, snuggling between us on a bench.

"Best day," Levi agrees, and though he's looking at Amelia, I feel like he's speaking to me too.

I scoop up a handful of dimes, taking aim at the old-fashioned arcade game. The discs clink and clatter, bouncing off the metal backdrop. Amelia squeals beside me, her own coins dancing across the platform.

"Almost!" she encourages, her eyes tracking every movement with childlike wonder.

"Let me give it a shot," Levi says, stepping up to the line with an easy confidence.

He flicks his wrist, one dime after another sliding into the slots with satisfying pings. Prizes drop down the chute, and Amelia collects them, her laughter bubbling over.

"Your dad's got some serious skills," I say, nudging her playfully.

"Yep, Daddy can win anything!" She beams up at him, pride shining in her eyes.

Levi ruffles her hair, then glances at me, a smirk on his lips. "Except maybe your approval?"

"Jury's still out," I reply, but I'm grinning too wide to be convincing.

We wander next to a photo booth, drawn by the flashing lights and cheesy props. Amelia drags us in, insisting on silly hats and oversized glasses. We cram into the narrow space, our knees touching, cheeks squished together as we make faces at the camera.

"Say ‘cheesy pizza!'" Amelia commands.

"Cheesy pizza!" we echo, and the booth captures our giggles, immortalizing this slice of time.

"Can we keep these?" Amelia holds up the strip of photos, her eyes hopeful.

"Of course," Levi says, glancing at me as he speaks. "Memories are the best souvenirs."

"Agreed." I tuck my copy into my bag, feeling a warmth that doesn't come from the sun above.

The day fades into evening, the park lighting up with twinkling bulbs and neon signs. We ride the bumper cars, laughter echoing as we chase each other around the track. Levi's car bumps into mine, his eyes crinkling with mischief, and I can't help but retaliate, spinning him out with a well-timed nudge.

"Gotcha!"

"Okay, okay, truce!" Levi raises his hands, and I notice the way his smile lingers, just for me.

We end the night on the Ferris wheel. The world stretches out below us, a patchwork of lights and shadows. Amelia presses close to Levi, her eyelids heavy with the weight of the day's adventures.

"Look at her," Levi whispers, his voice a soft rumble. "She's out cold."

"Guess we wore her out," I whisper back, not wanting to disturb the peaceful scene.

As the wheel turns, I catch Levi watching me, something new and undefinable in his gaze. He's seen me laughing, playful, carefree—maybe even vulnerable. And as our basket reaches the apex of the ride, I realize there's no place I'd rather be than here, suspended between earth and sky, with Levi's warmth beside me.

"Thanks for today," he says, his words nearly lost in the breeze. "It means a lot."

"Anytime," I reply, meaning it more than I expected to.

The wheel descends, and with it, something shifts inside me. Levi Griffin isn't just some guy; he's someone who makes me laugh, who looks at me like maybe I'm magic. And I'm starting to think that maybe, just maybe, this could be something real.

We step off the Ferris wheel, the ground firm beneath my feet. My heart still floats somewhere up in the night sky, refusing to come down. Levi's hand brushes against mine, a shock of warmth that sends a ripple through me.

"Let's grab some more cotton candy before we go," he suggests, his voice light but his eyes holding mine a moment too long.

"Sounds perfect," I reply, my insides fluttering like the colorful carousel nearby.

We wander toward the vibrant stalls, Amelia cradled in Levi's arms, her breathing even and steady. The scent of sugar and excitement hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the salty breeze from the ocean nearby.

"Hey, isn't that your dad?" Levi nods toward a familiar figure by the popcorn stand.

My stomach does a somersault. "Oh God, it is."

"Should we say hi or…?" Uncertainty flickers across Levi's face, mirroring my own sudden nerves.

Before I can answer, my father spots us. "Brielle! Over here!"

"Play it cool," I murmur to Levi as we approach.

"Always do," he replies, but I feel the tension in his arm.

"Jim!" Levi calls out, pitching his voice just right—friendly, nothing more.

"Levi, Brielle," Dad greets us with a broad smile. He scans us quickly, a flicker of something in his gaze—curiosity? Suspicion?

"Didn't expect to see you here," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Just supporting the community. And is this little Amelia?" His attention shifts to Amelia, asleep and unaware. "She's gotten so big!"

"Yes, she has," Levi says, pride lacing his words.

"Ah, she's precious." Dad's smile softens, and I exhale silently. "You two having fun?"

"Loads," Levi answers, and there's truth in his simplicity.

"Good, good. That's what these events are all about. Bringing folks together." Dad claps Levi on the shoulder, oblivious to the undercurrents swirling between us.

"Enjoy the rest of your evening." Dad waves off, turning to join another group.

"Close one," I breathe out once he's gone.

"Was it?" Levi asks, a wry twist to his lips.

"Maybe not. But let's get that cotton candy before we overanalyze."

"Lead the way," Levi says, and we meld back into the crowd, the pulsing energy of the amusement park enveloping us once again.

The sun dips low, painting the sky in streaks of orange and purple as we make our way to the parking lot. The buzz of the amusement park fades behind us, replaced by the distant hum of traffic. Levi glances at me, a small frown creasing his brow.

"Need a ride home?" His voice is casual, but there's an undercurrent of something else—concern, maybe.

"Sure, thanks." I nod, feeling the day's fatigue start to settle in my bones.

We walk in silence, Amelia snug in Levi's arms, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. He clicks the car seat into place and secures her before opening the passenger door for me. I slide in, the leather cool against my skin.

The drive to Amelia's mother's house is quiet, the only sound the gentle purr of the engine. Streetlights flicker on, casting pools of light that dance over the dashboard. When we arrive, Levi gently lifts Amelia from the back seat, her head resting on his shoulder.

"Wait here," he whispers, and I watch him disappear inside the house, a silhouette against the warm glow of the porch light.

A few minutes tick by, and then he's back, sliding into the driver's seat with a soft sigh.

"Okay, your turn," he says, pulling out onto the street.

I chew my lip, the question burning a hole in my mind. As houses and trees blur past, I gather my courage.

"Levi…did you know about Conrad and Grayson's…arrangement…with me?" My voice is barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the silence like a knife.

I watch the rise and fall of Levi's chest as he takes a deep breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He turns to me slowly, eyes searching.

"An arrangement? With Conrad and Grayson?" His voice is steady, but there's a tremor there when I listen close enough. "Brielle, I have no idea what you're talking about."

I bite my lip, heart pounding. "I'm…with them. Both of them." The words hang in the air, heavy and undeniable.

Levi's face freezes, his eyes clouding over. He blinks once, twice, as if to clear his vision or maybe to erase the image of my confession from his memory.

"Both of them…" he murmurs under his breath, and his hands loosen their grip. For a second, it looks like he might reach out to me, but he doesn't.

"Levi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—" I start, but the words choke off when I see the storm that's taken over his gaze. It's anger, hurt, something fierce and raw.

"Sorry?" He turns away, staring out the windshield. "You don't have to apologize for anything. It's your life, Brielle."

But the tightness in his jaw tells me he's not okay, that my news has hit him hard. I can sense the battle within him, the struggle to stay calm when every muscle in his body is tensed, ready to react.

"Are you alright?" I ask, though it's clear he's anything but.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He gives me a curt nod, but the way he says it, it's like he's convincing himself, not me.

And just like that, the moment shatters. He's closing himself off, building walls with silence and short replies. I can feel the distance growing between us, a gulf widening with each word left unsaid.

"Thank you for today," I tell him, forcing a smile, but it feels brittle, about to crack.

"Anytime," he echoes our earlier exchange, but this time it sounds hollow, like an echo fading into nothing.

We're silent for the rest of the ride, the only sound the hum of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires over wet asphalt. My heart pounds, a relentless drumbeat echoing the turmoil inside me.

The car rolls to a stop outside my place. Dad's truck is parked out front, a beacon of normalcy in the chaos of my emotions. Levi's hands grip the steering wheel, knuckles white. He stares straight ahead.

"Thanks for the ride," I murmur, reaching for the handle.

"Sure."

I get out, legs shaky, and Levi doesn't follow. Doesn't say another word. Just sits there, a statue with stormy eyes and clenched jaw.

"Hey, Brielle!" Dad's voice booms from the porch, all smiles as he jogs down to us. "Levi! Good to see you."

"Jim." Levi nods, a tight smile not reaching his eyes. He's out of the car now, all rigid lines and forced politeness.

"Come in for the game! It's just about to start. You'll stay, right?" Dad slaps Levi's back with a friendly thump.

"Actually, I?—"

"Can't miss this one. It's gonna be a classic. Come on!" Dad wraps an arm around Levi's shoulders, steering him toward the house.

"Sure. Why not?" Levi's voice is flat, his steps slow.

I trail behind them, my stomach in knots. Dad doesn't notice, caught up in his excitement for the game. But I see the effort it takes Levi to keep walking, to play the part. And I know, beneath the veneer of calm, Levi's hurt is just waiting to burst free.