I remember the exact thought that went through my head at that moment.” “Was it ‘who still goes to the library?’” “No. It was… ‘I wish I could get a girl like that.’” Leaning forward, I meet him halfway before our lips meet. “And somehow you got a girl like that.” When he sits back again, he’s wearing another serious expression. “Because I changed.” “No,” I argue. “Because I love you unconditionally.”
