Page 58
That’s how long it had been since Steven found out she tricked him into staying at her place. Three days since she’d talked to him, or seen him, or even smelled him. He asked her to leave him alone…so she had. She only sent one text to him, that night, and that was it. It had been simple and short.
I’m sorry.
He never even read it.
On her way home that night, she saw him. He sat at a bar, with a glass of whiskey in front of him, and a pretty brunette on his side¸ chatting him up. When the brunette placed her hand on his arm, and he didn’t shake her off, Lauren’s heart shattered even more. She walked away after that. She didn’t need to see what came next.
Not even thirty minutes, and he’d moved on already.
That’s how much she meant to him.
All along, she knew how this would more than likely end. He would forget about her, and she would be left to mourn the loss of not only his touch, but also his friendship.
While he was fine.
She never should have let him in.
She stirred the icing, taking her anger out on it. Those first two nights, she cried herself to sleep. After doing the same last night, she refused to do it again. She shed enough tears over him, and what she thought he meant to her. It was over. They were over.
It was time to move on, since he clearly had.
The bell over the door jingled. She called out, “I’ll be right out.”
No one answered.
“Hello?”
Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and she froze.
If it was him…
Setting the spoon down, she walked out into the shop area. The second she rounded the corner, she let out a breath of, well…something. It wasn’t Steven. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, upset, or happy. Everything was all tangled up inside of her in a tight, knotted, unrecognizable ball. “Oh. Hey.”
Holt rested his hands on the counter. “How are you doing?”
“Great. I’m great.” She dried her hands off with a rag and forced a smile. “You?”
“You haven’t been answering Lydia’s calls,” he said, ignoring her question.
Lauren set the rag down. “I just needed time.”
“That’s what Steven said.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if Holt had seen Steven. If they’d spoken, or if he was okay, but she wouldn’t. He cut her off. Forgot about her. She needed to do the same. “How is Lydia, by the way?”
“Good. She wants some pie.”
Lauren cocked her head. “I heard you make an ex
cellent one. Why come to me?”
“I didn’t have time to bake. The boss kept us late at work.” He pointed out the window. Mark was out there, and so was Cooper Shillings. Steven was not. “So I figured I would stop in and grab some here on my way home.”
Lauren craned her neck to look to the side of the other men.
Holt cleared his throat. “He’s not out there. He went home after work.”
Of course he did. He wouldn’t want to risk seeing her. “Apple pie?”
I’m sorry.
He never even read it.
On her way home that night, she saw him. He sat at a bar, with a glass of whiskey in front of him, and a pretty brunette on his side¸ chatting him up. When the brunette placed her hand on his arm, and he didn’t shake her off, Lauren’s heart shattered even more. She walked away after that. She didn’t need to see what came next.
Not even thirty minutes, and he’d moved on already.
That’s how much she meant to him.
All along, she knew how this would more than likely end. He would forget about her, and she would be left to mourn the loss of not only his touch, but also his friendship.
While he was fine.
She never should have let him in.
She stirred the icing, taking her anger out on it. Those first two nights, she cried herself to sleep. After doing the same last night, she refused to do it again. She shed enough tears over him, and what she thought he meant to her. It was over. They were over.
It was time to move on, since he clearly had.
The bell over the door jingled. She called out, “I’ll be right out.”
No one answered.
“Hello?”
Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and she froze.
If it was him…
Setting the spoon down, she walked out into the shop area. The second she rounded the corner, she let out a breath of, well…something. It wasn’t Steven. She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved, upset, or happy. Everything was all tangled up inside of her in a tight, knotted, unrecognizable ball. “Oh. Hey.”
Holt rested his hands on the counter. “How are you doing?”
“Great. I’m great.” She dried her hands off with a rag and forced a smile. “You?”
“You haven’t been answering Lydia’s calls,” he said, ignoring her question.
Lauren set the rag down. “I just needed time.”
“That’s what Steven said.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if Holt had seen Steven. If they’d spoken, or if he was okay, but she wouldn’t. He cut her off. Forgot about her. She needed to do the same. “How is Lydia, by the way?”
“Good. She wants some pie.”
Lauren cocked her head. “I heard you make an ex
cellent one. Why come to me?”
“I didn’t have time to bake. The boss kept us late at work.” He pointed out the window. Mark was out there, and so was Cooper Shillings. Steven was not. “So I figured I would stop in and grab some here on my way home.”
Lauren craned her neck to look to the side of the other men.
Holt cleared his throat. “He’s not out there. He went home after work.”
Of course he did. He wouldn’t want to risk seeing her. “Apple pie?”
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