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“Were you talking about me?”

They share a look. The kind that saysoh shit, now what?

The girl, Gracie, grimaces. “Um, well. You see—”

“Yes,” Josh cuts her off. “Yes, we were talking about you.”

“Joooosh,” she whines. “You can’t say it like that.”

“What? She clearly heard us.”

She lets out a huff, rolling her eyes at him before turning to give me a pitiful smile. “Sorry. We didn’t mean to gossip—”

“Yes. We did.”

“—but it’s just that you’re probably the most interesting thing to happen here in, like, forever.”

“Okay.” I try to sort through the facts. “What did you mean about some guy?”

“You mean your secret admirer?”

“I guess?”

“Well, you see—” Gracie starts talking with her hands, eyes lit up in a way that tells me she one hundred percent does, in fact, love to gossip, despite her earlier statement. “A few weeks ago, this guy came in at the end of the day and asked Aisling if it was possible to pay for someone else’s drink whenever they came here. Aisling was like, ‘What, dude?’ But he said he upset his girlfriend, and that she’d been coming here to work, and he wanted to do something for her. And Aisling, I mean, I know she seems like such anI don’t carekinda person, but she’s actually pretty kind, so she agreed. And so, once a week he comes in and just gives her a wad of cash to cover the girl’s drinks—and that girl is you!”

I think this Gracie chick gives me a run for my money on rambling.

But also.

What?

“Did you happen to catch his name?”

“No, but Aisling has a picture. Come on.” She beckons me with a wave, skirting around me in the narrow hallway and heading back into the shop.

I trail after her, watching as she waits for Aisling to finish making a coffee for the couple that came in while we were all busy chatting. When she’s done creating the perfect layer offoam on the cappuccinos, she pulls her phone from her apron and scrolls through it for a few seconds.

“Here. It’s not super clear because I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo, but...”

She flips her phone around, and even though the picture is pretty blurry, it’s easy for me to recognize him.

Who am I kidding? Of course, it’s him. At what point did I think it could be any other guy?

There isn’t a universe that exists where it wouldn’t be him.

We’re talking about the same man who sent me a bouquet of flowers every day for weeks until I agreed to be his girlfriend. The man who teamed up with my best friend to get me tickets to the ballet. The man who rented out the restaurant where we first met for a date. The man who commuted to work with me every day even though he lived in the opposite direction. The man who still gets me a coffee every day when I work even though I shut him out. The man who came running to me when he thought I might be on a date with someone else.

I always wanted to find someone who would put me first, someone who would notice the little things about me and go above and beyond to fulfill them…and I found that person. I found that person and then I let him go.

But it’s not too late to get him back.

Fuck Celine. She’s stolen too many years from me as it is.

I won’t let her steal my happiness…and I won’t let her continue to steal Cullen’s either.

I run back to my table in the corner, not even giving it a second thought as I pull up Cullen’s contact on my phone and hit dial. I shove the phone between my ear and shoulder as I work at tossing all my crap into my tote bag as quickly as possible.

The call barely even rings once before he picks up.