For Both Are Infinite (Hearts in London Book 1) by Stephanie Alba Page B

and the saddest smile. It physically hurt seeing him that way. He wasn’t his chipper self, the light in his eyes gone, replaced with some somber emotion I couldn’t name. He seemed vacant when he waved his hand pathetically and mouthed, “Hi.”
    “Hi,” I said aloud. Rhys crept toward me having become impatient while waiting for me to close the distance. He wanted to hold me, to embrace me closely, but hesitated. Instead, he placed his hand on my cheek, causing me to hold my breath. All I could think was that he better not kiss me. As many times as I’d imagined it, I was nowhere near ready. I don’t know if he read the fear in my eyes, or if he wasn’t planning on it, but he didn’t. He just gazed at me and held my face with kindness.
    Finally, he leaned closer, apologizing with his hands around my back both caressing and firmly holding on. His masculine hands and long fingers felt so welcome against me. I had forgotten what it was like to be held. I forgave him earlier, but I really forgave him then, feeling his heart beating against mine through our chests, our breaths in unison like rising and falling waves of the ocean.
    “I’m so sorry I hurt you,” he whispered.
    “It’s okay,” I said softly into his shoulder.
    Rhys pulled away. “There’s something else I haven’t apologized for.”
    “Huh?”
    He leaned back and grabbed my hands. “I’m sorry I disrespected your memory of Aaron. I know how difficult it was to open up to me, understandably, and I was reckless to his memory and your struggle. I hope you trust it won’t happen again, and I hope you still trust me to talk about it. You’ve come to life since.”
    His mouth was only inches from mine; if I wanted to I could have pulled him down and sealed it against my lips. Truthfully, I was surprised how much I did want that again. His eyes were heavy with culpability, paralyzing me, as I got lost in the emotion they held. He squeezed my hands. “Please say something.”
    I clasped his hands back. “Rhys, it’s okay. We both messed up. I took it too hard.”
    “We’re okay?”
    “Yes, I promise.” Relief flooded his entire body as he dropped his shoulders and his hands twitched in mine. “What?”
    “Nothing, I thought I lost you.” The intensity of those words, the way he stared at my lips, and momentarily rubbed my hand, allowed me to believe I meant more to him than he let on, if only for seconds. Clarity came over me and I restored my walls.
    “It’s okay,” I said, pulling my hands from his. “Friends forgive each other, right?”
    “Yeah, friends do,” he frowned.
    We ended up sitting on the bench by the statue, discussing the play and life, anything to make things how they were before. And it was. It came back naturally when I told him I loved Peter Pan and had a dog named Nana.
    “Would you prefer to stay young forever, or live life normally?” he asked.
    “I don’t know. There are pros and cons to each. My teenage years were awful though, so I don’t know that I’d want that forever.”
    “Why?” he laughed, leaning his throat back and revealing veins I loved.
    “Well,” I cringed. “I was moody and awkward. I had braces and pimples…you name it.” He laughed harder, a deep chuckle from his belly and I elbowed him. “I’m glad you’re amused with your good looks and all.”
    “Oh, come on. I didn’t always look like this. Besides,” he looked over at me, leaning his hand along the back of the bench so that his fingers were almost touching me. “You came out all right.”
    “Thanks,” I scoffed.
    “I mean,” he said clearing his throat. “You’re quite perfect, actually.”
    Rhys stared, admiring me, his eyes intently on mine and I had to look at my feet rubbing the gravel. Sometimes when he looked at me I wondered if he could read my thoughts, if he knew how unwound he left me, how accepted he made me feel. When he said things like that it was hard to tell if he was being friendly, or if he meant