I’m sittingat a corner table at Sweet Persuasions when Bailey walks in at 7:03 a.m., and even though she texted me that she was on her way just minutes ago, my whole body lights up at the sight of her.
She’s wearing a hat—one of Hunter’s, I think—and her hair spills out from under it in a way that makes my fingers itch to touch it again.She’s trying to look casual, scanning the bakery like she just happened to wander in, but her body turns toward me immediately, her eyes finding mine.
For half a second, we just look at each other.I can see the flush creeping up her neck, the way her lips part slightly like she’s remembering exactly what we did last night.I will carry that image of her pussy under the powder-blue fabric with me for the rest of my life.
Then she seems to remember we’re supposed to be acting surprised to see each other, just in case anyone’s paying attention.
“Montgomery.Oh.Hey.”It comes out woodenly, like she’s reading from a script.“I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Why don’t you join me?”I say too loudly, gesturing at my table like I’m a game show host presenting a prize.
Our acting skills need some work.
But, whatever.The bakery is quiet, though of the three people already in here, I know two of them.One is a teenager I did a family portrait for last year, the other is the dad of someone we went to high school with.I doubt he remembers us.
But Bailey orders her breakfast and joins me at my table with her hazelnut latte.
Bailey looks around the space.“I remember hearing about this place opening up.It’s cute.I can’t believe I haven’t been here before.”
I tilt my head.“You usually stay with your parents, right?”
She sighs.“Yeah.We don’t go out to eat often because Mom’s...”She hesitates, and I wait, sipping my coffee.“My mom is really into dieting.And she’s constantly talking about how she needs to lose ten pounds and trying to get me to join her.”
I grimace.“Hunter’s mentioned a few things like that.”
Bailey’s eyebrow raises.“Our mom tries to get him to diet?”
“No.”I spin the coffee mug, choosing my words carefully.“He usually rants to us about the things they say to you.I remember how angry he was after Thanksgiving in particular.”
Something crosses Bailey’s face—surprise, maybe, or something softer.“He...talks to you guys about that?”
“Yeah.He gets pretty fired up about it.”I meet her eyes.“He loves you, Bailey.And it pisses him off when people make you feel like you’re not enough.”
She looks down at her coffee cup, her throat working.“Oh, yeah.My mom drops some real gems around the holidays.”
The deflection is so obvious I almost call her out on it.But she’s blinking too fast, and I recognize that look—she’s trying not to cry in a public coffee shop.
So I let her deflect.For now.
Hunter told us about Thanksgiving.How his mom couldn’t even say oneneutralthing about the meal she herself had made.Gravy is just pure fat, you knowandmaybe you should skip the cranberry sauce since it’s just empty calories.She doesn’t say these things to Hunter—just to Bailey.And to herself, which is just sad.
I worry Bailey’s brain is going somewhere negative, so I say, “Was Hunter awake when you left?”
“Oh, no,” Bailey says.“Still snoozing away.And when he gets up, I left a treat on the counter for him.He got obsessed with mochi donuts last time he was visiting the city, so he’s probably going to sit on the couch getting his sticky icing fingers everywhere.”
“I don’t even know what mochi donuts are.”
That launches Bailey into a verbal tour of her favorite foods around the city.She names cuisines I’ve never had before, ones that I couldn’t even name a single dish from.
Our breakfast comes, the server, Alison, bringing our food out together.Bailey’s ordered the breakfast sandwich while I’ve got the chicken salad croissant.
“You really love the city, huh?”I ask, even though what I’m really asking is:Could you ever leave it?
She takes a big bite of her sandwich and shrugs while chewing.When she swallows, she says, “There are pros and cons to everywhere, right?I’ve thought about moving into the suburbs so I can buy a place, but it’s still really expensive.And I could live anywhere, since my company still has a robust work-from-home policy.But we do have meetings that I go into the office for, and I feel like if I moved anywhere else, I’d miss out on things.Plus, if I really moved away, then how would I come visit my family?”
Moved away.Notmoved to Here.Moved further away from Here.
And byfamilyshe really means Hunter.Because she barely talks to her parents.