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“My dad put in an application to Ashton for me,” I said, my words sounding random. “That was the online college I had my eye on. The only one, really.”
Harry, though, took it in stride, knowing I had a point somewhere along the way. “He did? That—that was your dream.”
He knows me.He knows exactly how I tick. “Mom said that the credits would transfer if I changed my mind, but I don’t think I will.” I held his gaze and cataloged every single minute expression. The firm line of his jaw, the loose purse of his lips, the arch to his brows. I took it all in, putting it to memory. “You still interested in riding shotgun?”
I memorized the expression on his face before so I could forever remember the way it morphed after. His eyebrows flew up as his eyes widened, and the loose purse of his lips disappeared when his firm jaw dropped. The hands on his knees spasmed, body jerking once more like a puppet on strings.
When he spoke, it came out as a whisper. “Really?”
“I knew Untapped Potential was always going to go places, but I never thought our paths would cross,” I told him, emotion starting to clog my throat, like a hand wrapping around my neck. “I didn’t know you before, but I know younow. I trust younow. I never saw myself in your future, but now that I have, I can’t imagine anything different.”
And the truth in my words nearly struck me speechless. Before Harry, the idea of being on my own was so arbitrary. Who would be my shotgun rider on road trips and adventures? Margot sometimes, but she’d go off to college in the fall. Who would stick by me then?
Once Harry came into the picture, there was no other person I could imagine in that passenger seat. No other person Iwantedto imagine taking that journey with me.
His eyes rapidly scanned my face, looking for any hint of falseness, of uncertainty, expecting it. But there was none—I meant it. I couldn’t imagine experiencing life with anyone other than him.
Maybe we were from two different worlds, but I didn’t care.
“What are my odds?” Harry asked suddenly, looking almost afraid to hope.
A startled laugh burst from me, mostly at the desperation on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”
In one swift movement, Harry leaned closer until his leg pressed against the side of mine, and he was everywhere. Tilting toward me, eyes scanning mine several times, waiting for me to pull back.
Without wasting another second, I closed the gap between us.
The second that our lips met, that balloon-like feeling burst in my chest, but this time the explosion of feeling was as if a million butterflies had lifted into the air. All the weight pressing me down disappeared, replaced by the feel of Harry’s mouth on mine. I laid my hand against his throat, touching the tattoo, and he slid the pad of his thumb along my cheekbone the way he always did.
Thisfeeling was the same. I realized now that this was the Harry Russo I knew. The one who was gentle and tender and such a good kisser. Hands so soft and careful and lips like fire.
There was forgiveness in this kiss, honesty, trust. We were both finding ourselves, and we were finding ourselves together.
I didn’t know who he was this time last year, but I knew him now. And I trusted him now. I would’ve trusted him with my life.
“Thank you,” Harry gasped against my mouth, pulling away to meet my gaze. “Thank you for coming and talking to me. I’m glad you had nothing more important to do.”
I settled deeper in his arms. “Nothing is more important than this.”
Harry traced his fingertip down my cheek, touch as delicate as a summer breeze as he murmured, “I feel the same way.”
This time, he kissed me softer, sweeter, but it still made my toes curl in my boots. Harry accepted me for me, and I accepted him for him. There was a Harry Before and a Harry After, and there was a Destelle and a Stella.
Two different sides of each of us, both equally loved.
