Sophia hesitated and then shook her head. “No. I was hoping . . . I hoped you’d come. I expected you. After all, you were invited.” She swallowed, her throat working. “Zeke isn’t going to be here.”
I wanted to pump my fist in the air and do a dance, but I managed to remain calm. “Oh, no? Why not?”
She cast me a quick, enigmatic glance. “I told him not to come. We . . . I told Zeke that I couldn’t see him anymore. Last week.”
Last week. Was that right after she’d announced that she was in love with me?
“Why?” I asked again, needing to know the answer more than I needed my next breath.
“Because it wasn’t fair to him.” Sophia flipped her hair back over her shoulder. “I was doing to Zeke what I accused you of doing to me. I was making him my safety net, my consolation prize. If things with you didn’t work out, he was there for me. And that wasn’t right. So . . . I ended things.”
“Ah.” I nodded. “Okay.”
Sophia knotted her hands together in front of her. “You’re way early for dinner, Harry. If you came for some other reason than to eat, why don’t you just say it and . . . well, whatever. Just get it over with, all right? I’m tired of being miserable. I’d rather go right into depressed and pathetic in time for the holidays.” She hunched her shoulders, and I wanted nothing more than to draw her into my arms and comfort her.
“Soph,” I began, my voice was rumbly with emotion. “I didn’t come to make you miserable or depressed. I didn’t come to . . .” I trailed off.
“Don’t tell me why you didn’t come, then.” She lifted wide eyes to mine. “Tell me why you did.”
“I came because you were right, Sophia.” I stuck my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, mostly to keep from reaching for her. “I was a lousy friend. I took you for granted, I made assumptions . . . and I’m sorry. I’m really, one hundred percent sorry. And I hope that maybe you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my stupidity, and maybe we could be friends again.”
Sophia ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. “Friends?” It was a question as much as it was a statement.
“We’ve been friends for a long time.” I took a deep breath. “I think I need to repair that friendship and make sure I’ve made it whole again before I earn the right to ask for anything else from you.”
Sophia nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand that.” She paused for a moment. “I accept your apology, Harry. I want you to be my friend again.”
Relief flooded through me. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Soph. I really—I don’t know what I’d do without you in my life. You mean everything to me.”
“I know.” She was nearly whispering. “I feel the same way. I hate being in a fight with you. Nothing in my world feels right when the two of us are mad at each other.”
“Good. I mean, not good that it didn’t feel right, but good that we’ve worked it out.” I exhaled long. I’d gotten over the first hard part, but we hadn’t navigated the more treacherous seas. I didn’t know if I should wait to move on or jump right into it now.
But as usual, Sophia was two steps ahead of me.
“So now we’ve fixed the friendship, right?” Sophia’s eyes were shining now as they gazed up at me. “We’re whole again?”
I nodded. “I hope so. I think so. But here’s the thing.” I allowed myself to stretch one hand toward her, catching a strand of her silky black hair and letting it sift over my fingers. “The problem, Soph, is that now that my eyes are open to how I feel—to how we both feel, I’m not sure I can be satisfied with only being your friend. Friendship is important,” I hurried to add. “I want that. But what if I wanted more?”
Her mouth tipped into a half-smile. “I think I’d be willing to entertain that idea. Tell me what it might look like—this friendship that’s . . . more?”
“I’d like to take you out on dates.” I slid my fingers from her hair to the side of her neck, cupping the warmth there and feeling her skittering pulse. “I’d like to hold your hand while we’re walking. I’d like to call you my girlfriend. I’d like to not have either of us worry about cuffing season again for the rest of our lives because we’re already cuffed to each other.”
She laughed softly. “That’s an interesting visual. Go on.”
“Most of all, though, I want the right to be able to do this whenever I want.” I drew her into the circle of my arms and held her close to me. Bending my head, my heart pounding so loudly that I was certain the entire town could march to its rhythm, I touched my lips to Sophia’s.
First kisses are tricky things. They can be awkward, and they can be self-conscious and even messy. But this one was not. Maybe because Sophia and I had known each other for so long—maybe because this kiss had been destined for ages—it was utter perfection.
Her head tilted, and her lips softened and parted beneath mine. Endless sparks shot out to each part of my body, setting me on fire and lighting me up like a Christmas tree. All of the agonies of decision I’d suffered became laughable in the light of the inescapable rightness of this kiss.
I’d been made to kiss this woman, and I had no doubt that she’d been born to kiss me. The only regret I had was that I’d waited so long to make this happen. I could have been enjoying her kisses all along if only I’d opened my eyes . . .
“No looking back.” As if she were reading my thoughts—and maybe she was—Sophia murmured against me. “This is the right time for us. We’re only looking forward from now on.”
And since I’d discovered long ago that arguing with this woman was an exercise in futility, I gave in and just kissed her again.
9
