Right now.
Ronnie asks what Jordan wants to drink. He orders a Modelo and looks at me, silently asking if I want one too. I nod my answer, and he tells Ronnie, “Make that two,” before she bustles away, headed for the tiny bar in the far corner of the room.
“You okay?” he asks.
Taking a deep breath, I nod, smiling faintly at him. “Have you forgiven me for what I did to you?”
He leans back, his brows drawn together. “Yeah. I have.”
“Really? Because there’s no way we can go forward unless you can truly say you’ve forgiven me for breaking your heart.”
He touches my hand again, just his fingertips skimming my skin, making me tingle. “Trust me, Mandy. I’ve forgiven you,” he says, his deep voice extra low. Intimate.
Despite the loud conversations surrounding us, the music, the not-so-distant sound of Ronnie yelling at someone back in the kitchen, it feels like we’re the only two people in this room. “Okay. Good.” It feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. That tried-and-true cliché is most fitting for this moment.
“Have you forgiven me for what I did to you?” he asks.
I frown. “What did you do to me?” He’s still stroking the top of my hand, and his touch feels so good. I never want him to stop.
“Ignored you. Made you feel neglected. I never meant to hurt you. I was just so…overwhelmed with everything. That first year in college, it was rough. I didn’t handle it right.” His exhale is ragged, his expression full of regret.
Oh. My heart aches at the look on his face, the sincerity in his voice.
“I forgive you,” I whisper and he shoots me a small smile just before he ducks his head. I decide to change the subject. “Ronnie’s right, you know.”
“Right about what?” His head is still bent, and he’s drawing circles on the back of my hand, making it hard to focus.
“We can’t live in the past.”
He lifts his head, our gazes locking. His vivid blue eyes gaze into mine, nearly undoing me. All by a simple look. “I don’t want to live in the past. As much as I loved teenaged Amanda, I want to get to know adult Amanda better.”
My lips curve. I like how he just said that. I like even more that he actually used the word love. “I haven’t changed that much.”
“Yeah, you actually have.” He picks up my hand, sliding our fingers together so their interlaced. Palm to palm. His thumb
caresses that patch of skin between my thumb and index finger, and it’s like his touch makes every nerve ending come alive. “You’re much more confident.”
“I don’t feel it,” I immediately say, and he sends me a look that shushes me.
“Trust me, you are.” His fingers tighten on mine. “You’re even more beautiful.”
“Flatterer,” I tease, but his compliment turns my cheeks pink.
“Still modest.” His smile is faint. Sexy. “I always liked that about you. There were a lot of things I liked about you.”
“Like what?” I can’t help but ask the question, though I guess I shouldn’t. It’s like I’m fishing for compliments.
“Your innate kindness. You’re not mean to anyone.”
“Except Lauren Mancini.” His ex from high school. One of the most popular girls in our class, she was the bane of my existence back then.
“You were allowed to be mean to her. She was mean to you.”
“True.” Okay, I may sound like an egomaniac, but I want to hear more. “What else did you like about me?”
“Your big, beautiful, sexy brain.” He brings our linked hands to his mouth and brushes a kiss against my knuckles. “You were always so fuckin’ smart, Mandy.”
Guys don’t tell you that sort of stuff. At least not most of the guys I’ve dated. Except for Jordan. He’s always been impressed with my brainiac ways. “You were a closet nerd too, you know. You were in all of my honors classes.”