Page 150 of Make Me Yours

Callie shrugs, suddenly interested in the swirl of her latte. “Let’s just say that it’s been a while.”

Rina’s eyes narrow. “Exactly how long are we talking about?”

There’s a beat of silence before Callie admits, “Since Nora.”

That was over two years ago. Judging by the way her voice quiets, she’s embarrassed by the confession.

“Ugh,” she mutters. “I hate talking about this.”

“Hey.” I nudge her gently with my elbow. “If you can’t talk about it with us, who can you talk to?”

“She’s right,” Sloane adds. “We’re your people. We’re not judging you. Unless you put raisins in cookies. Then I have a serious problem.”

Callie lets out a little laugh, but before she can respond, the bell above the front door chimes. All four of us turn toward the entrance, and my eyes widen as River Thompson walks in.

Rina’s brows shoot up. “Well, this is an unexpected surprise.”

He’s wearing jeans and a black Railers hoodie, his blond hair is still damp, as if he just got out of the shower. He nods politely in our direction. When his gaze lands on Callie, it fills with something raw and aching.

“Hey,” he says, softly. “I didn’t know you’d be working.”

Callie’s expression turns guarded. “I own the bakery, River. I pretty much live here.”

Ouch.

Sloane, sensing the tension, rises and grabs a cup. “Did you want your usual?”

Usual?

I glance at Rina with a raised brow, and she returns the look.

River’s attention remains on Callie before flicking to Sloane. He gives her a small polite smile. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

As Sloane gets his coffee and a bagel, River shifts, as if he’s trying to decide whether to say more.

“How’s Nora?” he finally asks.

Callie barely spares him a glance. “She’s good.”

He nods, accepting the limited info. “I’m glad.”

Even after Sloane hands over his bag and drink, River lingers a beat longer than necessary.

“Bye, Callie.” His voice is gentle. “I’ll see you around.”

There’s a beat of silence before she says, “Bye.”

He gives the rest of us a nod before reluctantly heading to the door.

Silence hangs for a full five seconds after it closes.

“I’m sorry, that man comes here often enough to have a regular order?” Rina hisses, spinning toward Callie. “Um, excuse me? Why didn’t we know about this?”

Callie sighs. “He likes the coffee. And, apparently, the bagels.”

Rina snorts. “Oh, honey. He likes something all right. Spoiler alert. It’s not the carbs.”

Callie gives her a look. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not interested.”