Page 53 of All This Time

I roll my eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

He laughs. “Have a good night, Laney.”

“You too, Fletcher.”

And then he hops in his truck and drives away, leaving me standing there, feeling the ice around my heart I’ve grown so used to beginning to melt away.

Chapter 11

Fletcher

Cake is Better Than Orgasms

Walking into Bites & Bliss Bakery is like getting smacked in the face with a cloud of sugar. I swear you can gain ten pounds just inhaling the air in here.

In fact, this place reminds me a lot of a bakery in Carrington Cove, this small town on the coast. My tattoo artist, Gage Kingston, lives there now and he’s friends with the owner of Smells Like Sugar, their local bakery that makes some of the best damn blueberry muffins I’ve ever had.

When I look outside to see if Laney has arrived yet, I’m met with disappointment, even though I know I’m early. But the last thing I wanted was to be late today and give Laney a reason to harden up around me again.

Last night was a fucking test of my restraint if there ever was one. I used to think that those nights I would lie in her bed, talking to herfor hours and holding her while we fell asleep were the worst kind of torture.

But now, as a full-grown man having to be this close to her again? To have to act like we don’t have a history, to look directly into her eyes and hear her laugh for the first time in years?

Yeah, I can safely say I didn’t know what torture was back then.

And I won’t lie. Not seeing her much since I left Blossom Peak has made it easier to bury all those feelings, so I can’t fault her for doing the same.

If there’s one thing that’s become apparent since I’ve been back, though, it’s this: when you’ve been harboring feelings for your best friend’s little sister for over twelve years, it’s easier to pretend she doesn’t exist than have to face the fact that she actually does.

Yet, in less than a week, I’ve recalled every detail about the girl who captivated me as a teenager, and discovering who she is as an adult is only making me more interested.

I glance around the bakery while waiting for Laney to show up, taking in the changes since my last visit as people flood inside to place their orders for the day. Display cases are filled with muffins, scones, and donuts, and several examples of custom cakes sit on a shelf behind the counter. The walls are painted purple with swirls of white drawn throughout. In fact, this whole store is covered in purple now, indicative of a complete remodel, which must have happened between now and the last time I was here.

“Oh my God! You’re Fletcher Adams!” A young boy to my right gains my attention as I join the line. All I’ve had this morning was a protein shake after my workout, so I need something else in my stomach before we taste cake.

Smiling, I lift my hat up a bit so I can see him better. I knew it was only a matter of time before I was recognized by someone again, and the kids are my favorite fans to meet.

“I am. What’s your name?”

“Collin,” he replies, practically vibrating with excitement.

I hold my hand out to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, Collin.”

“You’re my favorite player. Whenever I play football at school, I always pretend I’m you.”

My smile grows. “Thank you. I’m honored.”

“Can I get your autograph?” he asks with tears in his eyes.

I remember being so emotional over meeting the players I looked up to when I was a kid. Of course, I met most of them in a stadium or on a practice field as I followed my dad around during his career. Still, I know what those moments meant to me, so when kids come up to me, I give them every ounce of attention I can.

“Of course.”

The boy’s mom comes up behind him. “Sorry, we weren’t prepared for this. I don’t have anything for you to sign.”

I look around the bakery and find a stack of napkins on the condiment station to my left. Taking a few, I find the marker in my pocket that I keep on me for moments like this, uncap it with my teeth, and begin scribbling my name on a few napkins as a line starts to form behind Collin and his mom.

“Well, well. Look at what the cat dragged in…”