“I know.”
Kenzie, a non-serious fling from my past, is the last person I expect to see when I step outside. And somehow—the least surprising.
She leans against her car like she belongs there, one ankle crossed over the other, posture loose but deliberate. Her hairis darker than the last time I saw her, cut shorter around her shoulders, framing a face I remember better than I’d like.
“Hey, stranger.”
I stop a few feet away, not closing the distance.
“Kenzie.”
She straightens slowly, pushing off the car and stepping toward me like she’s testing how far she can go before I stop her.
“You look good,” she says, eyes flicking over me in a way that feels more like assessment than compliment. “Different. But good.”
“People change.”
Her mouth curves slightly. “Do they?”
I don’t answer. Don’t engage.
“What are you doing here?” I ask instead.
She shrugs one shoulder, casual. “Passing through.”
“Try again.”
That gets a small laugh out of her.
“Still direct,” she says. “I missed that.”
“We weren’t anything worth missing.”
The words come out sharper than I intend. Her smile flickers, just for a second, then it’s back.
“I heard you’ve been busy,” she says, ignoring the edge in my tone. “Helping out around town. Playing house out at the farm.”
My jaw tightens.
“That your business now?”
“Small town,” she says lightly. “Everything’s everyone’s business.”
Yeah. I know.
“What do you want, Kenzie?”
This time, I don’t soften it. Her gaze holds mine longer.
“I wanted to see if it was true,” she says.
“And?”
“Looks like it is.”
Something about the way she says it doesn’t sit right. Like there’s more behind it than curiosity, more than idle interest.
“I have work,” I say, stepping back.
