You Promised Me Forever (Forever Yours #1)(44)

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.”

“It’s true.” He taps our still linked hands against his chin, and I feel the faint scratch of stubble there. “Did you ever want to shake me?”

“Never.” I liked having him in class. There were other jocks in my classes, and that’s what Jordan was. A jock. The others, they were loud. Brash. Complete show offs, always performing. Some of them said dumb stuff when the teachers called on them, and all of their friends would laugh, which only egged them on.

Not Tuttle. He was quiet. Intense. When any teacher called on him to answer a question, he always got it right. When he raised his hand to offer his opinion, it was thoughtful. Intelligent.

“I never wanted to shake you either. Sometimes we even sat by each other.” He pauses before he further explains, “T and W aren’t too far away from each other in the alphabet, you know.”

Right. The first time he sat by me in science class in the seventh grade, I braced myself for an onslaught of insults. He’d been known as a bit of a bully then—smack talking everyone. Short and surly and a little chubby, with braces and pimples and just…all those horrible things that affect us when we’re going through adolescence. I thought for sure he’d take one look at me, tall and awkward and extremely shy, also dealing with pimples and braces, and think I was an easy target.

He never targeted me, though. Instead, he was…nice. He’d make occasional conversation, and I was always so nervous, I’d end up saying something stupid. His kindness threw me off guard. More than once, I caught him smelling my hair, which at the time I thought was just plain weird.

Now I know he liked the smell of my hair. He freaking liked me, even back then.

“We’ve known each other a long time, gone to school together since kindergarten,” I point out. “But that’s our past. And like Ronnie said, we shouldn’t linger there.”

“She’s right, you know. I give solid advice.” Ronnie magically appears by our table, depositing our Modelos in front of us. Jordan releases my hand, leaning back in his chair. “Enjoy your drinks on the house,” she says. “My treat.”