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I was tempted to wipe it with my fingers, to run my hands through the hair that was buzzed short. Would it be soft? His hair had been longer when we’d dated, and I’d loved running my fingers through it.
“Sorry. Let me get that for you.” I stepped back, letting him enter before shutting and locking the door.
I wasn’t afraid of my ex—at least not physically, but emotionally, I’d be smart to keep my distance.
He wouldn’t rob me of anything other than my good sense and my heart. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.
I grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerated case behind the counter, desperate to put space and physical barriers between us.
He sat at the counter to the left where I’d recently added stools for customers to eat.
I handed the bottle to him, and when our fingers brushed, I hoped he didn’t notice my fingers trembling. It had nothing to do with the robber still on the loose and everything to do with him.
He rested the bottle against his forehead and closed his eyes. “Thank you for this.”
I laughed despite my fear and the awkwardness of facing my high school heartbreak at four in the morning. “You’re not going to drink it?”
His gaze lowered to mine, and he slowly smiled. “I’m getting to that part.”
I blinked. He reminded me so much of the boy I’d dated. He was easygoing and fun, as long as his dad wasn’t on his case that day, and even if he was, Mark was good at brushing it off. I felt special because I was the only one who saw the real him.
He unscrewed the cap and took a long pull. I was mesmerized by the up-and-down motion of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.
There were so many other things I could have been doing. Gathering ingredients. Starting the dough. Turning on the ovens. Instead, I was frozen in place.
Once he’d drained the entire bottle, he set it down.
“Would you like another?” I asked.
“I should get going and let you do your thing.” He nodded toward the kitchen in the back.
“I do have to get to work.” Yet I was reluctant for him to leave.
I imagined him sitting on the counter in the kitchen as he told me about the last ten years. It was a ridiculous idea because we weren’t even friends anymore. The familiar pangs of loss pricked my heart.
He’d tried to reach out after his mother told me about the pregnancy, but I hadn’t responded. It had been too painful, especially when I’d thought we still had a future. His actions obliterated that idea.
He stood and lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead. My gaze was drawn to the very defined abdominal muscles. He hadn’t looked like that at eighteen.
Mark exuded masculinity and strength. His shoulders were broader, his arms larger, and his abs were more defined. I couldn’t stop myself from following the happy trail to the waistband of his athletic shorts and the bulge the mesh material did nothing to hide.
I swallowed hard. Needing water, I turned away from him. Fumbling with the refrigerator door, I unscrewed the cap and took a drink. The cool liquid soothed my dry throat.
Why was I reacting to him like this? We’d dated in high school, but we’d moved on. Or at least, I thought I had.
“I’ll get out of your way.” His voice was deep.
I turned around and pasted a smile on my face. “You’re fine.”
“I’m sure you have things to do.” He stood and moved around the counter. My heart thudded with each step he took, wondering what he was doing as he got closer. He leaned down, and I sucked in a breath, thinking he was going to kiss me when he tossed the empty plastic bottle in the recycling bin.
I startled at the thud of the plastic bottle hitting the empty can, my entire body heating at his proximity.
Mark turned slightly, taking in the dining area. “You’ve got a great place here, Soph.”
Goose bumps danced over my skin at the familiar nickname. He’d stopped in one other time during a town festival, but we hadn’t had a chance to talk. Not like this. “Thank you.”
He stepped closer and lifted a hand as if to brush aside the strand of hair on my forehead. But then he dropped it. His expression filled with remorse. “You’ve done well for yourself.”
