Jason reaches down and gives Felix a few scratches behind his ears. In turn, Felix leans against Jason’s thigh and wags his tail. “Never. I always love seeing him. I think we’re going to enjoy the summer air with a beer on the balcony tonight before work. Right, buddy?”
Monica steps up beside me and wraps her boyfriend in a very handsy hug, standing on her toes to kiss him. I love seeing her this happy, but she’s still never been shy about PDA.
I clear my throat. “Let’s get going before I change my mind.”
She breaks their kiss and shoots me a glare before whispering something into his ear. He nods and gives her ass a light slap, prompting her to giggle.
She bounds to my side and loops her elbow into mine. “Alright, let’s get going. I’m starving.”
We walk to the door and I wave to Jason over my shoulder. Stepping out of the building onto the sidewalk downtown, the warm summer air wafts over us. I don’t wear dresses often, but I'm glad I did tonight because the breeze on my bare legs and shoulders feels so refreshing after being inside the coffee shop most of the day.
We turn the corner, only a couple blocks away from Grandma’s old house. From here, I can see the sign in the front yard. Monica might have managed to succeed in guilt-tripping me to agree to this idea, but I’m still a mess of emotions.
For starters, I’m hungry too and I have actually wanted to try their food. I’m also a little apprehensive about the wholeidea because I don’t know what memories going in there will trigger. Gloria’s has already become a town favorite in the short time they’ve been open, and I know I just need to rip this bandaid off. Monica also said they’re planning to start buying coffee from us, so I’m sure I’ll have to go in one way or another soon enough.
Monica turns and grins at me. “I can’t wait to try their espresso martini. I heard they actually use tequila and mezcal in it. I’m sure it’s good now, but I bet it will be amazing with our coffee.”
“I could go for one of those.” I genuinely mean it too. A bartender friend told me about it when I was picking up a shift at the Frisky Fox a few weeks ago and it does sound good. A cocktail might also help calm my damn nerves tonight.
A black SUV drives past us, stopping right in front of the restaurant. I recognize it from the car service fleet that brings visitors into town from the airport, when a petite girl in a bright, flowy dress steps out with an infectious smile. I follow her gaze and it feels like the air is sucked from my lungs.
She’s looking at the front door—more specifically Sutton—who’s bounding out of the creaky, old wooden door and heading right to her.
For a split second, part of me is glad they kept the original door. That thought is fleeting though because Sutton points that smile—the one that still lights my skin on fire—right at her. She runs into his waiting arms and he lifts her up with ease and spins around in a clearly familiar hug, placing a kiss on her cheek. I can’t hear what they say from this far away, but I don’t care.
Air finally makes its way back into my lungs, just in time for my stomach to tie itself into knots. I had prepared myself to deal with being inside the remodeled house. Seeing him so happy with someone else—when I still have trouble not picturing him at night when I’m alone—is my undoing.
“Hey, are you alright?” Monica turns to where I’m stopped on the sidewalk, but I say nothing. Her eyes follow mine just in time to see him grab the girl’s hand and walk inside the restaurant.
Of course, that night with me meant nothing to him. I should have known he would have found someone else by now—someone bright and lively. That’s who he is supposed to be with, someone like her, wearing pretty colors.
“Oh.” She steps closer and I feel her fingers link in mine. “We don’t have to do this tonight, or ever.” She turns us and starts walking the other direction. “Let’s go to the Frisky Fox and get some spicy margs. I’ll get us a rideshare.”
I nod and hold her hand as we start walking back toward her apartment.
CHAPTER 30
KELSEY
I don’t knowwhat I expected his reaction to that story to be, but it wasn’t this. That charming smile is gone, replaced by a look that I can only describe as a combination of both defeat and amusement. I still remember that night like it was yesterday, even if I tried my best to block it out of my mind.
It was enough to make him my own personal punching bag for turning my grandma's house into a restaurant, but even now thinking he had moved on hurt. But if that wasn’t a date, what was it?
He shakes his head and finally looks at me. “Is that why you stayed mad at me for so long? Because you thought I was on a date?” He arches a brow at me and smirks. “I didn’t think you’d be the jealous type.”
I glare back at him playfully, tapping my wine glass to let him know that I could use a refill. He raises his hand toward someone behind the counter and points a finger down at my glass, but never looks away from me. Something about the way he so casually does that is hot and makes my current level of desire for him even stronger. I still barely know him, but I also feel so comfortable around him in a way I can’t explain.
“I believed you the other night when you said you hadn’tbeen with anyone else. But if that wasn’t a date, who was she? You two looked really happy to see each other.”
He huffs a laugh. “To be clear, I meant what I said the other night. I haven’t been with anyone else since you, but I can see how you would have thought I was on a date in hindsight."
He neatly stacks our empty entree plates and sets them back behind the counter. I notice that all night he’s tried to make life for his staff easier, even clearing plates for the bussers.
He already said he has dessert 'taken care of’. I'm not sure if he means another ice cream sampler served on me or an actual plan to consume food, but I’m not going to ask because either option is a winning proposition.
He turns on his stool to face me and our knees rest against each others’. I might have given him a hard time for taking me on a date to his own restaurant where we’ve both worked this week, but I love the intimacy of this.
“That was my sister, Sisi.” His warm smile returns. “She had just gotten engaged and that was the first time I had seen her since then.”