Page 79 of The Tattered Gloves
“Not physically.” He laughed. “Although I like the way you’re thinking. What I meant was, when you see me, what kind of person do you see?”
A chill ran down my spine — not because of the cold, but because of the immediate fear that rushed through my veins. Part of me wanted to turn and run, the overwhelming feeling of being vulnerable in front of another person making my fight-or-flight response go haywire.
But this is Sam, I reminded myself once again.
Sam is safe.
“You’re kind,” I finally stated. “And kind of arrogant.”
He smiled. “Isn’t that an oxymoron?”
“And you like to interrupt people with bad humor,” I added, feeling the fear abate slightly. “You never take no for an answer, and you always see the good in everyone, even when they don’t deserve it.”
“You deserve it,” he argued. “Well, mostly.”
“You’re fiercely loyal, and despite my first impression… you’re a hard worker.”
He laughed. “You really did think I was the laziest person in the world, didn’t you?”
I nodded. “I really did.”
“You know what I see when I look at you?”
I shook my head, unable to answer.
“So much of the same, Willow, but I doubt you’d agree. I don’t just like you because we share a similar background or because you see me as more than the boy whose mom left. I like you because you see all of me.”
“And do you see all of me?” I asked with trepidation in my tone.
“I’d like to,” he answered, “if you’d let me.”
“But what if you don’t like what you hear?”
He took a deep breath as I watched him pull his hands out of his pockets. Reaching out halfway, he held out one hand and waited. It took me only a second to realize what he was doing because that handful of seconds in the bookstore hadn’t ever left my mind.
Taking a deep breath of my own, I stretched out my hand and met him the rest of the way, touching the tip of my pinkie to his.
“Impossible,” he finally answered.
And, in that moment, I chose to believe him. I believed in the possibility of love and everything that went with it. Because he’d done the impossible for me.
He’d given me hope.
