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He removes the paper towel. I take three slices of bacon and a bagel that Corey pulls out of the toaster oven. It’s not the most gourmet breakfast, but I love it. It’s so… Corey. And it’s thoughtful. Victor never once made me breakfast.
It just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover. To the world, Corey Johnson is a hardass with a heart of stone. He’s not friendly or sociable. No one knows the soft soul underneath his tough exterior. Whereas Victor was the opposite. He puts up a front to the world. Everyone thought he was the perfect boyfriend—a complete gentleman. When, in reality, he treated me like I was a box for him to check off on his list of life accomplishments.
Morgan never understood what I saw in the guy. As my best friend, she knew my type well. And Victor didn’t fit the mold. But maybe that’s why I chose him.
Victor was the antithesis of the boy I’d grown up loving. Maybe, subconsciously, I thought being with him would help cure me of my lingering heartbreak for the guy I’d always hoped to end up with.
Thank God I was wrong.
I take a bite of the sesame seed bagel—my favorite flavor—with a depth of appreciation and affection I’ve never felt before. I watch Corey spread butter on his bagel, then make a sandwich of it with six slices of bacon, when it hits me.
I never stopped loving Corey.
Even after all the heartbreak and years of longing, he’s always held a piece of my heart. Sleeping together might have taken us to the next level, but the love I felt for him is as strong as the day he took my hand and swept me away from my prom date.
Corey knows my favorite bagel, for goodness sake. And he wanted to make me a latte because he remembered I used to like them when I was in high school.
Corey Johnson is the one for me, I know it now more than ever. And I’m hopeful that maybe, just maybe, he may feel the same.
Gravel kicksup under Corey’s Range Rover as he drives down the only road that leads to our hometown’s namesake. A warm winter and early spring means Rose Hill is in full bloom. The wild rose bushes paint the landscape in bright reds, pale pinks, and soft yellows and whites. I’m admiring the sight through the passenger window when Corey pulls to a stop at the end of the road, just beside the path that winds up the hill. “Here we are.”
“What are we doing here?” Corey dislikes almost everything about our town. I can’t think of why he’d willingly bring me here.
“We’re going to hike Rose Hill.” He reaches into the back seat and retrieves a basket. He must’ve put it in when I went to my apartment to change., before he picked me up outside the entrance of our apartment building. “And we’re going to have a picnic when we reach the top.”
“Really?” Rose Hill is hardly a hike, more like a leisurely walk at a modest incline. It takes no more than thirty minutes to reach the top. Still, I’m wearing flats with next to no arch support. They aren’t exactly meant for an outdoor walk.
“Really,” Corey confirms, surprising me further when he reaches into the back seat again. This time, he retrieves a bag from the Nike store and hands it to me. “These are for you.”
I take the bag and remove the box inside. Shooting him a curious glance, I lift the lid to see a pair of bright white tennis shoes. A look under the sole confirms they’re my size. “You bought me shoes?”
He nods. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be wearing the right shoes for a hike,” he says by way of explanation.
I hesitate to ask, but I can’t resist, “How long have you been planning this date exactly?”
“Oh.” He coughs to clear his throat. “Well… this things is… I’ve been planning our first date since we were teenagers.”
“What?”
His face flushes. “Yeah...”
I should move the conversation along. He and I have already discussed our past. He’s apologized, but I can’t squash my curiosity. “What made you finally kiss me at prom? Why is that when you made your move?”
He tilts his head to the side and searches my face. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I shake my head.
He huffs a laugh and averts his gaze, staring off at the blooming bushes around us. “That was the first time I’d ever seen you with another guy.”
I let that sink in. “You were jealous?”
“Hell yeah, I was jealous.” He looks back at me. “I was so jealous, I couldn’t think straight. Knowing Augie was your first real date infuriated me.”
“Really?” I ask again. I can’t seem to think of anything else to say.
What is wrong with me?
The guy of my dreams is admitting he liked me when we were kids. Likereallyliked me. He was jealous of another guy. I should be jumping for joy, not questioning him like a prosecutor trying to catch him in a lie.
