“Zo.”
“Not to mention that I feel like I’ve abandoned her these past few weeks,” I whisper, the confession tearing out of me. “Running around with Colt, the salon, the games, the… the sex. God. She ate cereal for dinner twice last week because I was too busy.Cereal.”
Declan slides the envelope aside. “Morgan’s fine, sis. She’s literally the happiest kid I’ve ever met.”
“But I just feel—” My throat closes and I press the heels of my hands against my eyes. “Everything is changing again, Declan. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, just when I thought I might finally get a chance to have—”
I stop myself short of sayingeverything I've ever wanted.Because thinking it and saying it out loud are two completely different things.
"So what about Colt's offer then?" Declan asks carefully, like he's tiptoeing around a sleeping bear. "The guys at The Lounge are all pumped for him. Silas can't believe he isn't on the next plane out of here already, contract signed, bags packed, the whole nine yards." Declan's fingers find my chin, tilting it up until I have no choice but to look at him. "But, Zo… how do you feel about him going?"
I swallow hard. "He hasn't said yes."
"He hasn't said no either." Declan's eyebrow lifts in that infuriating brotherly way. "Has he talked to you about it?"
"Not really. We gave each other some space to think. Why would he anyway?" I grab the dough again, just to have something to do with my hands. "We've been… whatever we've been for, what, a few weeks? It's not like I get a vote on his career."
"Zoey."
I let out a breath that's half laugh, half something wetter.
"He'd be stupid not to take it, Dec. It's New York. A team that actually has a shot this year." I press my thumb into the dough, leaving a perfect little crater. "He'd be stupid to stay here for…"
Me.
The confession hangs in the air, totally unspoken, but Declan hears it anyway.
His dark eyes, so like mine, just study me. “What doyouwant, Zoey?”
My gaze darts around my kitchen, to the brick oven, the hanging pots, the shelf above the mixer when I hid thatfuckingnotebook.
This is my kingdom. This is my safety.
“I want…” I start, then shake my head. “I don’t know what I want. Because every want gets filtered through Morgan. Through the bakery. Through… surviving. Ever since Daniel left,Idon’t have a want button. I'm a single mom just trying to get by, so all I get is aneed-to-keep-the-lights-onbutton.”
Declan sighs, a long, weary sound. “You spent your whole childhood taking care of us. You gave up everything so we could have everything.”
“I didn’t mind,” I say automatically.
“I know you didn’t. That’s the problem.” He meets my eyes, and for the first time all night, I see past the tough-guy exterior to the little brother I used to bandage up after street hockeygames. “But you know what you never did, Zo? You never asked if that’s whatyouwanted.”
My eyes burn. I look away, focusing on the twisted dish towel in my hands.
“You know who does ask? You know who has allowed you to dream again?” Declan continues, his voice softening. “Colt fucking Lane.”
A tear escapes. Because it's true.
“He’s the first guy who's actuallyseenyou what you want. And yeah, I gave him shit the other night. Because it’s my job.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “But Zo… that man isn’t your ex-husband. And you’re not the girl who got left behind anymore. Stop acting like you are.”
The bell jingles again, and both of us turn to peer through the doorway.
Colt stands in dark bakery entrance, haloed by the soft glow of the Main Street lampposts behind him.
He looks… wrecked. His hair is a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it for hours. His bright blue eyes are shadowed, intense, fixed on me.
He sees Declan and stops. Something passes between them—a look, an understanding. Declan gives me a single nod, then he stands, brushes past Colt with a quiet, “She’s all yours,” and walks out into the night, pulling his coat around him.
The bakery feels suddenly huge and too small all at once.
