“Always.”
He grins and heads back toward the kitchen, where Knox, the chef, is probably scowling at a skillet while Eli the pastry perfectionist sprinkles powdered sugar with near-religious precision.
When Fallon leaves, Wren reaches across the table and catches my hand. Her fingers are warm. “Okay. Spill it. What the hell happened?”
I look down at our hands before answering. “I ran into him at the bakery.”
“Holy shit.”
I nod, pressing my lips together. “He grabbed my arm, tried to talk. I told him to go back to Portland.”
“You didn’t even let him explain?”
“Would you have?”
Wren tilts her head, conceding. “Fair point.”
She knows all about his architectural career in Portland. She, of all people, knows the most about the unhealthy pattern I have developed with this man.
I deserve better… and she agrees.
The sound of clinking dishes fills the lull between us. I focus on the pattern of the wood grain beneath my hands, the way the afternoon light catches flecks of gold in Wren’s hair.
“I mean, I haven’t heard from him in months,” I finally say. “I just… I can’t do this again. He always does the same thing. Every time he comes back to town, I somehow end up…”
“In his bed?” she finishes softly.
I meet her eyes, heat crawling up my neck. “Yeah.”
Her face softens. “And last time was supposed to be the last time.”
“It was.” My voice catches. “And now he’s showed up again. And I can’t do it, Wren. Not again. The nerve of him, showing up here after everything.”
Fallon returns with our plates, mercifully interrupting my spiral. Wren’s pancakes arrive stacked high, syrup glistening down the sides.
My toast looks almost too pretty to eat, topped with slices of pear and drizzled honey.
Wren digs in immediately. “You need a distraction,” she says through a mouthful. “Get back on the dating apps. Swipe your way to forgetting him. You’re always the one preaching about how ‘the best way to get over one man is to get under another.’ Take your own advice here, babe.”
I laugh despite myself. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on. You’re still young, gorgeous, and your scent drives every Alpha within ten miles crazy. I mean, look around you. There are so many guys here who would die for a night with you.”
“Thanks for the pep talk, but I’ll pass.”
“So what’s your plan? Ignore him until he disappears again?”
“Exactly.” I reach for my chai, the spices warming my throat. “He’ll leave eventually. He always does.”
Wren’s smile falters, replaced by something tight.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates. “Don’t turn around.”
My stomach drops. “Why?”
“Because Dorian just walked in.”
