the house.
“You still love me?” I tease when we step outside, knowing it must have been a shock for Leo to see where I came from.
“I love you even more.” He leans down and kisses my head. “You amaze me, Almalee.”
I press my lips together and grin.
I look over to Amos’s house. “Do you mind waiting in the car until I smooth things over with Amos?”
“Yeah, sure.” Leo bends and presses his lips to mine, soft and sweet. “Do you want me to grab some food for your parents from that corner store we passed while you talk to him?”
“Thank you. That would be great.” I run my hand along the five o’clock shadow that he has going on, and my stomach flutters. Gah, he’s so hot. All right, focus. “Just bags of beans, rice, fruits, veggies, and bread. Maybe some peanut butter. They don’t eat meat or dairy.”
“No problem. I’ll be back.”
I supply Leo with another quick kiss and then grab the bag of Famous Amos Chocolate Chip Cookies that I left in the car. As I walk up to Amos’s front door, I turn the bag of cookies over in my hand. My entire friendship with Amos is built on traditions and little anecdotes that only the two of us know. Yet, in all the years I’ve known my best friend, we’ve never established a tradition for making up because we’ve never had a need for one. He’s never been mad at me. I couldn’t show up at his door without a peace offering of some sort, so Leo and I stopped at a gas station on the way here, and I bought a bag of Amos’s namesake cookies.
I knock and wait.
Amos’s mom answers, and a smile graces her face. “Alma.” She wraps me into a hug. “So good to see you. Let me get Amos.”
She retreats, and a few moments later, Amos approaches, his hands in the pockets of his khaki shorts.
“Hey,” he says, his flat expression giving nothing away.
“Hey. I come bearing gifts.” I hold out the bag of cookies.
Amos takes it with a hint of a smile. “Thanks.”
“Can we talk?”
He nods and steps out onto the porch. We take a seat on the top step.
“Well, either you’ve recently acquired a Porsche or you went back to him.” He frowns.
“We’re together,” I state, not an ounce of regret in my voice. I won’t apologize for loving Leo. “Listen, I love you so much. You are the only true family I have. I’d have nothing without you, Amos. But if you love me, then you need to allow me to make my own choices. You have to trust that I know more about the situation than you do. I know Leo more than you do. I know my heart and what I need more than you do. It’s not weakness that I took him back; it’s strength. I love him enough to be vulnerable. And you know, maybe you’re right. Maybe he’ll hurt me, and if that happens, then I’ll survive it. But maybe you’re wrong, and he’ll cherish me and make me happier than I’ve ever been. I deserve to love someone who makes me feel the way Leo does.”
Amos bends the edge of the plastic cookie bag back and forth. He’s quiet for a moment, thinking. “I’m scared for you, Alma.”
“Me too,” I admit. “But I’m also really excited to see where this life takes me. My connection with Leo isn’t something I can explain to you. You wouldn’t understand because you can’t feel it like I do. But I’m telling you that it’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of wanting. Leo is worth fighting for. Please just trust me and love me. If I fall, then you’ll be there to catch me. And if I fly, you’ll be there to cheer me on. Just be my friend.” My voice catches on the last word, and I swallow hard.
I extend my pinkie finger toward him, and he takes it in his.
I sigh, relieved.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I was a horrible best friend this week.”
Our connected fingers rest against his thigh, and I lean my head on his shoulder. “You’re the best friend a girl could ask for, Amos. I love you.”
He kisses the top of my head. “I love you.”
We sit this way in silence for a few minutes, soaking in the easy comfort that we’ve always shared.
“So, we’re good?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“Does that mean you’ll come out to dinner with Leo and me before we