Dance With Me (With Me in Seattle 12)

“Really. I’m intrigued. Don’t you have paparazzi issues?” I ask.

“Not really,” Christian says. “It’s one of the reasons I love it so much. The locals are used to seeing celebrities and rarely make a fuss. It’s been refreshing, to say the least.”

“Nice.”

Once he’s driven through town, Christian turns onto a windy road that leads up the mountain.

“This is Whitetail Mountain,” Jenna informs us. “It’s a world-class ski resort. But again, it’s quiet this time of year. Most of the tourists are gone. I don’t have any other guests this week, so you’ll have plenty of privacy.”

“This is incredibly generous,” I reply.

“We like Luke and Nat a lot, so when they said they had a friend who needed anonymity and relaxation, we were happy to help,” Christian says.

We drive past a small village. There are ski lifts that are currently not moving.

“They run the lifts on the weekends,” Jenna says as if she can read my mind. “I recommend going up to have a look around. The view is crazy beautiful.”

Levi takes my hand in his, links our fingers, and gives me a squeeze. I never thought I’d like a man so physically affectionate.

But I do. I so do.

“Here it is,” Christian says, and I feel my jaw drop for the second time today.

Ahead of us are three treehouses. They’re at least thirty feet in the air, and they sit right next to one of the chairlifts.

The one on the far left is bigger than the others, but aside from size, they all look exactly the same.

“Whoa,” Levi says.

“Wait until you see inside of them,” Jenna replies as we all climb out of the SUV.

Levi and Christian grab our bags, and Jenna leads us into the biggest of the three units.

“I’ve stocked the kitchen with plenty of staples, but there are two grocery stores in town if you need anything else. Unfortunately, all of the stores are closed up here on the mountain for the off-season.

“The Wi-Fi information, along with a list of restaurants and other things to do in the area is in this book.” She lifts a binder on the kitchen counter for us to see and then leads us through the living room to the deck beyond. “This door is heavy.”

“Whoa,” Levi says again when we step outside. The deck is spacious, big enough to hold at least twenty people. There’s an outdoor eating space and a fantastic view of the entire ski resort.

“You’ll have to come out here at night,” Christian says. “The stars are amazing here.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Come on,” Jenna says, leading us back inside. “There’s more to see.”

She’s not kidding. Downstairs, there are more bedrooms and bathrooms, and another deck with a private hot tub. The main floor has the kitchen and living space, and a large master bedroom and bathroom.

“Now, the top floor,” she says with a grin. “This is my favorite.”

I can see why. There are more beds up here, and a ladder leading to a turret.

“Watch,” Christian says as Jenna flips a switch and the ceiling of the turret lights up with hundreds of tiny twinkle lights, making it look like a night sky.

“I’ll be writing songs up here,” I whisper as Levi hugs me from behind. “This is beautiful. Thank you again.”

“Our pleasure,” Jenna says. “How do you feel about a trip to the spa tomorrow?”

“I am a sucker for the spa.”

“It’s a date, then.”

Once Jenna and Christian say their goodbyes and leave, Levi and I stand in the kitchen, just staring at each other.

“Did the past five hours happen?” I ask, feeling shell-shocked.

“Seems so.” He crosses to me and pulls me in for a long, tight hug. “What do you want to do first?”

“Sleep. I didn’t sleep well without you.”

He kisses my forehead.

“Let’s sleep, then.”“This is incredible.”

We’re lying on the mattress in the turret. All the lights are off, including the twinkle lights, and it’s late, well past sunset. The sky through the big windows is clear and alive with so many stars, it would be impossible to count them all.

“Did you see that?” Levi asks, pointing.

“Yeah, that’s the third shooting star I’ve seen.”

“Did you make a wish?”

I turn to look at his handsome face in the moonlight. “Am I supposed to wish on shooting stars?”

“Well, sure. It’s a thing.”

He looks at me and leans over to brush the tip of his nose against mine.

“Didn’t you know that?”

“Never heard of it. But there are still a lot of things I’ve never heard of.” I shrug and look up again, transfixed by the night sky.

“How did you learn?” he asks. “After you left and made it to LA, you would have been unaware of not just academic things, but pop culture of all kinds.”

“I was a sponge,” I admit. “I watched TV constantly. Read magazines. I couldn’t get enough of the radio, listening to everything I could get my ears on.