Page 87 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

“You didn’t do a very good job at that.” She smirks up at me. “I’m still right here.”

I kiss her forehead. “You are. Miraculously. Do you want to actually come in? Or did you just come here to thank me, give me the best kiss of my life, and leave me paralyzed and overwhelmed in the hallway?”

Rhett suddenly barks at our feet. I completely forgot he was here. And he, in an unusual display, didn’t demand to be center stage. It’s as though he sensed the importance of this moment between Olivia and me .

“Come into your place?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“Or we could stand in the hallway kissing. Totally up to you.”

“I’d love to come over. I’m actually craving ice cream,” she says. “Do you have any?”

“I do. At least three flavors. And toppings.”

She runs her hand along my jaw again. I turn her palm up and place a kiss on it.

“I did come to thank you,” she says, looking up into my eyes. “I didn’t plan to kiss you.”

“I definitely planned to kiss you,” I confess. “I just didn’t know when.”

“You planned to kiss me? Since when?”

“Ever since our dance the other night … or maybe since I saw you at Barnes that first week I worked there … or the day Jacob and I bumped into you and I discovered you were my neighbor. No. Come to think of it, I probably had the inclination after you gave that speech in our Principles of Marketing class at BU. Nope. It was definitely when you crossed the finish line after our race against Strathmore High during our Sophomore year. You were glorious. Your form was absolute perfection?—”

“You’ve wanted to kiss me since tenth grade?” Her tone is incredulous.

“Maybe I wasn’t always aware of how badly, but yes. You have always had a pull on me, Olivia. And I just recently realized how strong that pull is. I came to my senses Saturday—when you were in my arms at the reunion.”

“Our dance.” She smiles up at me.

“Yes. Our dance.”

She smiles shyly at me. “I’m going to change out of my work clothes and get into some sweats.”

“I’ll dish up your ice cream.”

“I’ll be right back,” she says with a smile.

“I’ll be here waiting.”

I watch her walk toward her apartment until she passes through the lounge, turns the corner and disappears out of my sight.

Chapter Twenty-One

Olivia

That first kiss, it still has a way of making us

nervous as teenagers, no matter how old we get.

~ Amy Jacobson

I walk to my apartment,not looking back over my shoulder, my nerves alive like fluttering swarms of butterflies clustered on trees during migration.

As soon as my door snicks shut behind me, I grab a throw pillow from my couch and squeal into it. I’m bouncing up and down like the winning contestant on the Price is Right.

Oh. My. Gosh.

I kissed Logan.

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