Page 45 of Songs for Libby

He glanced up at me again with the same ghost smile. “I understand why you did it.”

“It’s still not fair to you.”

“I won’t argue with that.” This time the smile was real, though it was small, and he held my gaze.

When he looked back at his hands as they slowly rotated his mug clockwise, I took the opportunity to study his face. I’d missed him. And I wanted him back, but sitting here in awkward silence wasn’t going to get us anywhere, so I breathed deep to shore up my courage and asked for what I wanted. “So”—I cleared my throat—”I know I used up my second chance, but do you think you might be able to give me a third chance?” My voice shook as I asked, and I likely had the most pathetic puppy eyes, but I’d said the words. They were out there, and what happened next was up to him.

He frowned at me in silence as his gaze intensified. Finally he heaved a sigh. “Honestly, I’m still mad, Libby. I am. I can’t make all of that go away just because you had a good reason for treating me like crap.”

I dropped my gaze in shame, knowing I deserved his anger.

“So, I can’t just jump in and start where we left off. But…I’d like to talk. I’d like to be friends. And I’d like you to try really hard to be honest with me.”

I nodded frantically as I tried not to let the tears of relief escape my eyes. “I can do that.”

“No more phone calls that make you run off?”

I shook my head. “I blocked all of his numbers.”

His shoulders dropped. “Okay.” He stood and gestured for me to do the same.

I was surprised, but happily accepted the embrace he offered.

“I’m sorry for what he put you through,” he murmured into my hair. “I wish I could have been there to help.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you.”

“Me too.”

“Thank you, Jonas.” The words were so inadequate for all the grace and acceptance he was offering, but they were all I had to give him in that moment.

♪♫♪

It took us a while to get back to the ease we’d had before I had run out on him. Ditching your new boyfriend without explanation after he took you to his extra special restaurant will put a damper on the trust of any relationship. We texted a lot the first few days after I asked for yet another chance. A lot of How are yous and What are you doings.

When it would take me a while to respond, he would tease me, asking if I’d decided to ditch him again. Those ones actually hurt my feelings, but I didn’t think that’s what he intended. I sent screenshots of his texts to Naomi and asked what she thought about it. She said he sounded like someone who was hurt and afraid of getting hurt again. So I did my best to simply reassure him of my decision and let him know that I didn’t regret my choice. We started calling each other almost every night, talking a little more freely, laughing more easily. I took a leap of faith and asked him to take me back to Roy’s, since I had nothing but good memories associated with that place. He obliged.

As we were out on the dance floor, I ran my hand over the tattoo on his forearm, then I pulled him close enough that he could hear me over the music. “You said you had another tattoo, but you’ve never told me what it is.”

He looked away and I could have sworn he blushed. “Maybe I’ll show you sometime when it’s appropriate to take my shirt off.”

My eyebrows shot up, intrigued by this bit of information. “I don’t think anyone here would mind.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“It was worth a shot,” I muttered.

He shook his head but couldn’t smother his grin. “You’re going to corrupt me.”

“I would never.”

When he dropped me off that evening, he left me with a friendly hug and I did my best not to be disappointed by it.

♪♫♪

We had gone out three times in the past week and still he hadn’t kissed me. We didn’t lack chemistry. This I knew. But he kept everything on the platonic side of the fence, if only just barely.

We had spent this evening out with his friends and he had stuck to my side, often keeping a hand on my hip and glaring at his friends if they tried to flirt with me. So as he walked me to my door, I made the decision to take things into my own hands. When we reached the top of the steps across from my door, I stopped him. “Can you do me a favor?” I asked as my stomach rioted.

“Sure.”

“Can you go down one step?” I nodded toward the stairs we had just ascended.

He raised a questioning eyebrow at me, but said, “Sure…” and slowly stepped down.

I positioned myself right in front of him, my toes at the edge of the landing. We were nearly eye to eye now, and as I wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, he grinned. “Hi,” he said, leaning toward me.

A little wave of triumph washed through me. “Hi,” I whispered just before kissing him.

I’m not sure why he hadn’t really kissed me before today, since he didn’t hold back now. He held on to the railing beside him with one hand and wrapped the other arm around my waist. He breathed deep through his nose then let out a satisfied hum before pulling back just enough to ask, “What took you so long?”

He didn’t give me time to answer, just went right back to kissing me, and as I thought about it (with what little of my brain was not occupied with his mouth), I came to the conclusion that he must have been waiting me out on purpose. I couldn’t fathom why, but at the moment, I didn’t care. He was kissing me now and that was good enough for me.