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“Oh my God, Bradford?” I manage, trying to stop my voice from quavering.
He grabs the last candy packet with a guilty smile and we both stand, staring at each other for the first time in what feels like a lifetime.
“Hi Ragnar,” he says, and the words, simple as they are, ooze charm. It’s like he’s not even surprised to see me.
“Hi,” I say, still bewildered. I suddenly realize I’m still clutching a handful of candy like an idiot, and scramble to deposit them back on the shelf where they belong. Only I look like even more of an idiot in the process, as a couple fall to the floor in my haste.
Once again, Bradford bends to pick them up and I’m sure I must be blushing by the time he stands again. He places the candy back on the shelf, and it stays this time, to my infinite relief.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him, still unsure how I’m suddenly face-to-face with the only man I ever truly felt something for.
Suddenly, memories of boarding school life flash through my mind. Bradford’s deep brown eyes gazing at me the first time we met. The scent of his skin — like sunshine and sweat. The soft skin on the small of his back, undulating under my hand. The smell of fresh hay. Always the smell of fresh hay.
“I’m here for a modeling gig,” he tells me, suddenly bringing me crashing back into the present.
“Oh?” I say and suddenly feel like I’ve never said anything more banal in all my life. I scramble for words, trying to recover. “That must be nice.”
If it wouldn’t make things worse I’d smack my palm right into my forehead in a desperate bid to knock some sense into me. After all this time, how is it possible that I’m so flustered over Bradford’s presence?
But one look from those deep brown eyes tells me exactly how. He’s as gorgeous as he ever was — in fact, even more. He’s really grown into himself. His jet black hair is much longer than it used to be, spilling over his shoulders with bohemian ease. A strand falls in front of his eyes and something in me longs to brush it away. But then he shakes it out of his face with a nonchalant jerk of the head.
“Yeah, it’s been nice,” he answers in total seriousness and I silently thank him for not scoffing at my futile comment. “I’m really enjoying the town, too. It’s a nice little place. So are you living here now?”
“Uh, not exactly,” I say, not wanting to tell him what brought me here. It was my inability to deal with my emotions that put an end to us all those years ago and even though I know there’s no chance anything will happen between us now, I don’t want him to know how little I’ve changed in that regard.
“I’m actually just visiting Gorlag,” I tell him. “You remember him from school?”
Bradford grins and a wave of delight runs through my body. I can’t help it. He’s just too beautiful.
“Oh yeah, I remember,” he says and for a second his eyes get a faraway look, as though he’s getting his own flashes of boarding school. I wonder if the smell of hay is in there somewhere.
“Are you here for long?” I ask and I hope he doesn’t hear the longing in my voice.
“I haven’t decided yet,” he tells me, his focus sharpening again. “I should have a break after this gig and I was thinking about sticking around for a little while. I could use a little fresh air. You?”
I love how easily he says ‘you,’ like it hasn’t been ten years since we last set eyes on each other. Like the last thing I did wasn’t break his heart. Like the last thing he did wasn’t break mine.
“Same,” I say, trying not to think of all that now. It’s almost impossible with those dark eyes gazing into mine though. “I mean, I’m not sure how long I’ll be here for, but it might be a couple of weeks at least.”
That’s just a guess and I don’t know why I say it, but I need to say something and I have a tiny hope that I might be able to steer this conversation into seeing him again. Miraculously, though, I don’t have to.
“Well, why don’t we get a drink sometime? To catch up?” he says, and pulls out his phone. He looks up at me expectantly, that half-grin that I remember so well etched on his face.
Somehow I manage to remember my phone number, even though it feels like my mind has been wiped blank by this impossible turn of events and by the time we say our goodbyes, I've practically forgotten how to speak at all.
I turn to watch Bradford go, staring at his long hair swishing as he walks, the muscles of his broad shoulders rippling beneath his shirt. I realize suddenly that I must look like a lunatic and that if Bradford turns around, all he’ll see is me, mouth agape, gawking at him.
I manage to get the rest of my shopping done and hurry out of the store but Bradford’s smile is all but tattooed on my mind.
“You’ll never guess who I ran into at the grocery store,” I say the moment I walk in the door.
Emily is at work and Amelia’s at school, so it’s just Gorlag sitting at the kitchen table, laptop propped open. He’s probably trying to get some work done, but I don’t care. I need to tell him what just happened.
“Mary Poppins?” he says, obviously a little annoyed at the interruption.
I shake my head. “You remember Bradford? From boarding school?”
Gorlag scrunches his eyebrows together. “Yeah?”
