Page 25 of Once Smitten, Twice Shy

Slowly, I weave my way toward him through the tables, those butterflies swirling through me.

It’s good, Juliet, a quiet voice says in my head.It’s good.

I smile. Because, for the first time in so many months, I believe that voice.

When I get to his table, I stop. Will’s head is still bent, his pencil moving over what I now see is a sudoku puzzle.

My smile widens. I set my purse on the table and tell him, “I was so sure you were doing the crossword.”

He jerks upright, like I’ve startled him, and blinks up at me. His gaze dances down my body. He swallows thickly, totally silent. And then he shoots out of his seat.

“Hi.” He offers me his hand.

I blink, taken off guard. Will immediately yanks it back and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I just flubbed that so bad,” he mutters miserably. “Ahandshake? What the hell is wrong with me?”

“Will—”

“Can I have a do-over?” He presses his hands together, holding my eyes. “Please.”

I’m torn. I want to reassure him, tell a little white lie that he didn’t flub it to make him feel better.

But I shouldn’t lie to him, not when he wants to get better at this. Will and I owe each other the chance to actually get better, and that means we have to make space for not just our successes but also our struggles.

I don’t tell him he flubbed it, but I don’t disagree, either. I just say, “Rewind time.”

Then I reach for my purse and slide it onto my shoulder. I take a quick glance behind me, making sure the path is clear, before I start walking backward. I walk backward through the whole coffee shop, to the door, whose handle I fumble with a little bit as I reach behind me to open it. I whip open the door, step outside, and let it fall shut.

Through the glass door, I see Will standing in his cozy corner, this bewildered expression on his face that’s tinged with…I’m not sure what, but I think it just might be amusement.

I smile at him, then wave my hand, gesturing that he should sit.

He does. My smile widens. Then I whip open the door to walk in. Take two.

More confident than last time, a lot less shaky, I stroll through the restaurant. This time, Will watches me the whole way, his eyes holding mine.

When I get to the table, he stands, smoother than last time, calmer.

“Juliet,” he says, his gaze dancing over me. “Hi.”

I smile. “Hi, Will.”

He clears his throat. “I’m not going to offer you a handshake this time.”

I bite my lip. “Okay.”

“But…” He clears his throat again. “I’m not exactly sure what Ishouldoffer you.”

“What feels right?” I ask. “What’s your gut instinct?”

He scrubs at the back of his neck. “We’re not total strangers, but if we were, my gut instinct would be to stand, pull out a chair for you to sit, then push it in.”

“Gentlemanly,” I tell him. “I like it.”

“But we’re not strangers,” he says, his eyes holding mine. “We’ve talked enough, we’re comfortable enough with each other that…well, a hug hello, that’s my instinct. I’d ask first, of course.”

My smile deepens. This man. “Go on and ask me, then.”

He blows out a breath. “Juliet, can I hug you hello?”

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