Dare You to Hate Me

She thumbs my bottom lip. “You should be afraid to be seen with me. Haven’t you heard? I’m a college dropout.”

Reaching over, I flick a piece of her freshly dyed hair. It’s a little darker than her natural shade, but still beautiful. “I don’t give a shit as long as you’re happy. This looks good on you, by the way. What made you go back?”

She nibbles her lip. “It was time. If I’m going to do what makes me happy, I want a fresh start. No more hiding.”

“The talk with Bea went well then?”

Her eyes go behind the counter briefly before she stands on her toes and presses a kiss to my lips. “Better than good. She told me I can stay as long as I’d like. She’s even giving me some of her old recipes to practice making.”

The woman in question comes out from the back, flour covering her black apron and a big smile on her face. “She’s forgetting the most important part of what I told her.”

Ivy groans.

“I said I couldn’t say no to her running away with you when the time came because she couldn’t do any better if she tried.”

I laugh as Ivy turns to the older woman with her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m not running away with him.”

Bea’s eyes change slightly. “You’re right. I’d say you’ve done enough running in your lifetime. It’s about time you settled, hmm?”

The comment makes me wonder just how long their talk was.

When I get her full attention, I say, “I’m going to Everly’s for a while, then meeting up with Caleb later on. Told him we’d stop by toward closing to get you.”

“You don’t have to—”

I stop her there. “I don’t have to do anything, but I want to. Plus, it’s cold outside, there’s ice everywhere, and you’re insistent on not needing a car.”

Her stance is the same. “I haven’t driven in years and cars are expensive. I don’t need one when I can walk places.”

“Exactly. So, we’re picking you up.”

She glares.

I shrug.

Bea laughs before disappearing into the back again.

“So, do you want your usual?” she asks, shifting gears.

“Is that your way of saying you want half my bagel?”

“Are you going to keep insinuating you only ask for half of one because you knew I’d eat the other?”

All I say is, “The usual please.”

“Fine, but I’m putting real butter on it instead of that nasty olive oil spread you like.” She goes to work doing just that, passing me a coffee a few minutes later, then a bag with half an everything bagel a few minutes after that.

“Was that so hard?” I tease, passing her what I owe.

“I hate you sometimes.”

I lean in again, crowding her space. “I dare you to hate me, Ivy. We both know you don’t. You couldn’t even if you tried.”

Her breath falters at the words I’ve said once before, except now the meaning is completely different.

Because she loves me.

Even if she won’t admit it yet.