Page 39 of Freedom Ride

I chuckled. “So.”

She was wearing white sneakers, cutoff jean shorts that were frayed on the ends, and a white tank top. Her tattoos were on display, and each time I looked at her, my eyes found a new one I hadn’t seen yet. Her light pink hair was piled on top of her head, with messy pieces spilling out around her face.

She reminded me of Tinkerbell but with a rocker edge to her. She had offhandedly mentioned she was goth lite, and that was pretty accurate.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she whispered.

I looked around and didn’t even know how to say what I was feeling. “Uh, I’m good, babe.” In a nutshell.

“Jonas,” she laughed. “I’m going to need more than that.”

“Well, tell me what you’re thinking while I try to better say what I’m thinking.” It wasn’t going to happen, but I might as well buy some more time before I just tell her I’m good again.

“I think everything is exactly like you said, and I don’t know how that is possible. The way you wrote to me and the things you told me are exactly what they are.” She motioned around the clubhouse. “The only thing I haven’t seen yet is your club, but I’m sure they are going to be just what you said they were. Meg feeding everyone. King being slightly grumpy but friendly. Your cousins and uncles being crazy and cracking jokes all the time, and their wives reigning them in while they’re also being crazy themselves.”

“Sassy,” I whispered. “All of the girls have a high level of sass in them. Even the little ones that can’t even talk or walk yet.”

“Sassy,” she laughed. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“What about me?” I asked. “What do you think about me?”

Her eyes dropped to the floor, and she fidgeted with the hem of her shorts. “Uh, well, you’re just...” She cleared her throat and pushed off the counter. She paced toward me and then turned back around. “You’re Jonas,” she whispered. She glanced at me over her shoulder. “And I like it.” She reached the counter and turned back to me. Her step faltered, but she recovered without falling on her face. “You look exactly like your pictures, but you seem happier than you did in them.”

“Well, that I would believe. Nolan took those in the dayroom, babe. Not exactly the happiest place on earth.”

She smiled shyly and tipped her head. “Fair enough. I guess it’s good you seem happier then.” She stopped in front of me and smiled shyly. “What about me, now?”

“You’re gorgeous. You’re even better than your pictures. Your voice is sweet like honey, and the blue hues in your eyes dance when you smile or laugh. When you talk to Doc and Marty, you absolutely radiate love. You’re my Lennox,” I finished.

“Wow,” Lennox whispered. “I was good with the written word, and you are just killing it speaking.”

I reached out and held my hand out to her. We hadn’t touched or even hugged yet. I didn’t want to scare her away. I wanted her to come to me on her own terms.

She laid her hand in mine, and I wrapped my fingers around hers. “Hi,” I whispered.

Her eyes connected with mine, and a soft smile touched her lips. “Hello.”

With each beat of my heart, I feel our connection. Her skin against mine felt like electricity coursing through me. This was what I hoped it would be like, but was afraid to think about it too much.

I didn’t know if I deserved to feel this after the things I had done in my life, but I wasn’t going to run from it. If this is what I was supposed to have, then I was going to take it all and never give it back.

She stepped toward me and laid her other hand on my chest. “I’ve thought about this moment forever, Jonas. Some days, I didn’t think it would ever happen,” she confessed.

I dropped her hand and wrapped my arms around her waist. “You’re all I thought about the past three years, Lennox. You gave me something to live for.”

Her eyes drifted shut, and she face-planted into my chest.

“Babe?” I laughed.

“Jonas,” she whined. “How are you so good at this? You’ve literally melted my heart twice in the past five minutes,” she mumbled into my chest. “I’m so awkward and struggling not to pass out from how hot you are.”

I hooked my finger under her chin and tipped her head back until her eyes connected with mine. “Got a lot of making up to do, babe. You were the one who was good with the letters. I just fumbled my way through them, praying you would write me back.”

“I would have pretty much had to die to stop writing you. Even when I felt like crap or was so tired from work, I still wrote to you. Heck,” she laughed, “I still have one letter for you.”

“You have a letter for me?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I wrote it this morning, but you can’t read it because I’m not even sure I want you to have it. I pretty much just word-vomited all over the paper and shoved it into an envelope.”

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