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And I seemed willing to ignore the consequences. The price. Like ignoring I could still feel the imprint of his hands on my skin, or pretending I couldn’t summon the words he’d whispered in my ear. We’d made a pact anyway. We’d said we wouldn’t let the experiment change things between us, affect our friendship. He’d promised he wouldn’t fall in love with me, for crying out loud. And that was probably why nothing had changed for him after the Masquerade Ball.
“You done with this, Rosie?” Sally—the barista at my favorite café in Manhattan—said, jolting me back to reality. She balanced a tray on her hip. “I’ll take your mug away if you are.”
“Yes, thank you.” I grabbed my empty mug and plate for her. “The new cinnamon rolls are amazing, by the way. I’m thinking of taking a couple of them home.”
Because Lucas would love them.
“Want another one for now? Looks like you’re working.” She pointed at the laptop sitting on the table. “You can use some extra fuel.”
“No, thanks. I think I’m going to start wrapping up and head home soon.”
With a nod, she placed everything on the tray and walked back to the counter.
As I finished saving my security backup, a man near the counter caught my attention. He wore a sleek black tux and was tapping his foot on the floor. He stood out like a sore thumb in the casual atmosphere of the coffee shop.
Just like it used to happen once upon a time, my head startedimagining the possible scenarios that had brought him here. Maybe he was on his way to a gala, not exactly unusual in Manhattan. Or perhaps he was returning from one and was in sheer need of caffeine. Or who knew, maybe he had slipped unnoticed out of an event and what I’d thought was impatience was actually him fighting the urge to bolt before getting caught. He could be a… runaway groom.
Runaway groom leaves bride at the altar and falls in love at first sight with a barista. Or the pastry master. Or the patron that he spills coffee all over in his haste to escape.
I was smiling to myself, thinking that would be a romance book I’d love to read, when the man turned around and met my gaze.
His eyes widened with recognition.
Runaway Groom was Aiden Castillo, the contractor.
He waved a tentative hand and I returned the gesture with a nod. Then he collected his order and strode in my direction. And as he did, I couldn’t help but notice that I’d overlooked how handsome Aiden Castillo was that day we’d met.
“You look great, Mr. Castillo,” I blurted absently when he reached my table. His eyebrows arched and I shook my head. “Which is a weird way of saying, hi, how are you?”
Mr. Castillo laughed. “I’m doing good, and thank you, I appreciate the compliment.” He lowered his voice as if he was letting me into a secret: “Although if I’m being completely honest… I hate the tux and after the day I’ve had, I’m dying to get it off.”
As curious as I was, asking him to elaborate would be none of my business. So I went with, “Well, that’s too bad.” A loud giggle came from the table closest to the window, and a quick glance told me the source was a small group of teenagers. “Don’t look,” I told him. “But I think you might have a little fan club over there. And they’d be super disappointed if they heard you saying that.”
Mr. Castillo’s expression filled with humor. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint them, so I guess we can keep that between us.”
He was a nice man, I thought.
And for some reason, a flashback of me bawling on Lucas’s chest came to mind. “About the other day, during the visit at myapartment, I should probably apologize for how… very uncomfortable that visit must have been for you, so now that I see you here”—I shrugged a shoulder—“I want to, you know, say sorry.”
“No need to apologize,” he said with a wave of his hand. “There’s no point in denying my brother-in-law is an asshole.”
“Oh, so you’re family with Mr. Allen?”
He nodded with a sigh. “For better or for worse.” He seemed to think of something. “Which reminds me, I’m not sure if he’s called you yet and gave you the news.”
I frowned.The news?
“Okay,” Mr. Castillo said. “So he hasn’t, I see.” He shook his head. “I have this policy of no work talk on a Sunday but I think I can make an exception.” A pause. “Your apartment will be ready for you to move back in soon. On Friday, probably.”
Friday.
That was… in five days. Less than a week.
He smiled, and in that moment, I thought of Lucas’s grin. And how Mr. Castillo’s didn’t make me feel… anything.
“Oh,” I breathed out, disappointment settling deep in my stomach.
Disappointment.
