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“Let me through,” I say.
People move aside, glancing curiously at what I’m carrying and I reach the door. My hands shake slightly as I step over the threshold into the bustling bakery.
The fresh scent of cookies hits me first. Maisy’s friend Thea stands behind a wood counter overflowing with treats beaming at the people waiting in line with Connor nearby, pride filling his gaze. A few conversations slow to a stop and I almost have to laugh. Everything is bright and cheerful in this place, and I’m darkening the door in ripped black jeans and a dark t-shirt, probably looking like a damn psycho.
All of that fades the moment I lay eyes on her across the room, perched on top of a table with Holden and one of her friends, heart-stopping smile wide and hazel eyes lit up with life. She’s wearing a pair of cut off shorts with bleach splatters and a white stretched out muscle tank over the sports bra she had on the day she left. Her eyes meet mine and she stops. I want to cut open my chest and hand her my bleeding heart right then and there.
Because it’s hers. It’s always been hers. The damn thing beats only for her.
It sits in my throat as I take one staggering step toward her, then another. In three long strides I’m in front of her and for a second I hate this place because I can’t pick out her floral and coconut scent. The irrational feeling passes after a beat.
Is this what love is? This crazy madness that latches onto the body?
“Fox,” she says.
Holden shifts in his seat, away from the girl who seems to be with him to slide between me and his sister. I bite off the urge to snap at him to get out of my way.
“If you think I’m going to stand around while you hurt my sister some more—”
I cut him off. “The last thing I want to do is hurt her.”
“Dude, move,” Maisy says instead, nudging her brother aside. “I’ve got this.”
Holden’s brows flatten. “You’re good?”
Maisy rolls her eyes. “Yes. Shoo. Go enjoy your date over there.”
He swings his gaze back to me and I recognize the protectiveness in his expression. The girl with him takes his hand and tugs him toward the bakery counter.
“I’ll be watching,” Holden promises before turning around to hug the girl from behind, lifting her off her feet to make her laugh.
“So will we,” mutters another of Maisy’s friends with dark hair and a sharp gaze.
“Oh my god,” Maisy says in exasperation, taking my wrist and tugging me closer to a mural of the sun and moon painted on the wall. She peers up at me with a worried pinch between her eyebrows. “Is everything okay? Did you find out something else?”
God, this girl. I hurt her and she still asks if I’m fine first.
Words fail me. They’ve never been my strong suit. The carefully thought out apology I planned while I picked flowers for an hour flies from my head.
Licking my lips, I try. “I brought you these.”
Her gaze falls to the flowers in my hand. At least two of them are crushed from my choking grip, their stems bent. In my head it was a more romantic gesture than the reality, but her lips part.
“Purple daisies,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I… They’ve always reminded me of you, Maise.” I carefully touch the petals of one of the blooms sticking out. “Wild, stubborn, beautiful, and free.”
Her eyes fly to my face, bouncing back and forth as she drinks me in greedily.
“You are. Doesn’t matter what keeps you down, you’ll overcome it. You bend to grow where nature will let you, but you also crop up wherever you want because nothing holds you back. You’re a wildflower.”
My wildflower.
A small sound escapes her and I want to reach out to bring her closer, but if I do I won’t get this out. I rummage in my pocket for my phone and open the screenshot Colton sent me as I was pulling up in front of the bakery.
“I’m sorry. I know I fucked up, but I’ll do whatever I have to so I can make it right.”
“Fox, is this—?” She reads the text again, fingers curled around my phone.
