“I’m going to trust you tonight.”
“You are?” I gasped and then almost cried. “Seriously? You trust me again?”
He looked at me for the longest time. “Please—” his voice became soft and desperate sounding—“please don’t let me down and do anything to break that, this time. Not like last time.”
“Are you giving me a second chance?” I asked.
“Maybe.” He didn’t look one hundred percent sold, but I was taking it.
“Does that mean you’ve forgiven me?” I asked.
“Getting there, slowly.” He looked at me seriously.
I started nodding. “I won’t do anything bad, I promise. I won’t let you down, I won’t lie again, I won’t . . . I promise!” My heart felt like it wanted to leap into his hands. He was giving me another chance! Was this him accepting my apology for everything that had happened between us?
“Goodnight, Becca.” He leaned in and planted the smallest kiss on my lips.
“Goodnight, Mike,” I whispered against his mouth.
“By the way,” he said, pulling away slightly, “I like you in red.” He ran a finger over my cheek and then traced the curve of my mouth with it.
I smiled at him and then he turned and walked off.
