608 Alpha Avenue (Cherry Falls)

I sit on a stool beside the sink.

“Oh, no.” She frowns. “What happened?”

My spirits fall. Again. It’s a pattern that I’ve noticed over the last twelve hours or so. I think about Grayson walking out of Fireside, and—boom!—my feelings are hurt all over again.

“I knew better, Kay. I knew better than to get my hopes up.”

She stops stirring.

“He didn’t call or text or … anything after, you know, the hike.” I shrug. “But that’s normal. I mean, I guess it is. It’s fine—or it would’ve been. I wrote it off and thought maybe he needed to get his brain wrapped around it too. You know?”

“Makes sense.”

“Well, that was me being optimistic.” I pick a loose pepperoni out of the pizza bar and pop it into my mouth. “Maybe that’ll give me salmonella, and I’ll have that to worry about instead.”

She sighs. “So, what happened? I get it wasn’t good but spill it.”

“He came in last night. Late. And acted all cold and quiet. But that’s Grayson sometimes. He can be that way. So I sort of held my breath and waited for him to warm up.”

“Smart.”

“There were two guys in town from Syn City, I think. I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. Anyway, they were sitting at the bar, and one of them flat-out asked me on a date right in front of Grayson.”

Kaylee’s eyes go wide.

I pick up another pepperoni. “And I looked at Grayson and said something like, ‘What do you think?’ or something random. Basically, just—”

“Giving him the opportunity to step in,” she says. “Got it.”

“Yeah. Except he didn’t.” My throat burns all over again. “He stood, took out his wallet, paid his bill, and walked out.”

I didn’t know Kaylee’s eyes could grow this wide.

“So, anyway, I’m on my way to see Garret Blake with the marketing stuff I put together for him last night. I look like this because I stayed up all night to get it finished.” I take a bite of the pepperoni even though I think I might puke. “I just want to be done with it. Move on.”

It's what I have to do. I have to contain these Grayson-centered thoughts and memories to the smallest part of my brain possible. I need to replace them with something—anything—else.

It’s the only way I can imagine getting through this.

Kaylee drops her hands from the spoon. “I’m so sorry. I feel guilty.”

“Why?”

“Because I … Well, I clearly misread the signs.”

I stand and wipe my hands on my jeans. “This has nothing to do with you. You are a good friend. I just needed to tell someone where I was going in case I make a scene and they call the cops and someone has to come bail me out.”

She pulls me into a quick hug before I head to the door.

“Also,” I say, over my shoulder, “I’m going out with some dude whose name I don’t know tonight. So come over around five and help me get ready.”

“I’ll be there.”

We exchange a sad smile.

I step into the early morning sunshine and set my sights on Blake Brother Auto Repair.

“Good morning,” I call out to Garret.

He lifts his eyes from a stack of papers on his desk. He looks surprised to see me as I walk into his office.

“I got all of your fliers done,” I say, plopping a folder in front of him. “If you could email me a user name and password to your website, I can go on there tonight or tomorrow and add whatever you want. Just please put all of that in the email too.”

He leans back in his chair. It squeaks a sharp, high-pitched squeal.

“How are you?” he asks, not acknowledging the folder.

Nope. Not going there.

No doubt Garret knows what happened and, judging by the sympathy I can see in his expression, he feels pity for me.

My stomach tosses and turns.

“Oh, I had another idea as I was researching layouts for the flier last night. Have you thought about having a car show here? Have people bring their classics and park them in the parking lot. You could have burgers and hot dogs and a band or something. It’ll bring a lot of people here and maybe draw some additional interest into the shop.” I shrug. “Just a thought.”

A slow smile spreads across his lips. “That’s a great idea.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you—”

“Where in the hell are the …” Grayson rounds the corner, his voice petering out as his eyes land on me.

The air fills with his cologne, the earthy, musky notes caressing my senses. Memories of the trail and the swing and of him catapult back to me, and I wish I could make it stop.

I drag my gaze from his thick chest to his brother. “I’ll look for your email.” I flash him a smile and head for the door. “Excuse me,” I say as I make a point not to touch Grayson on my way out.