“Whatever. I’ll ask her myself. Is she home?”
Alba’s gaze slid to a couple wrangling three tiny dogs, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.
“That’s not a hard question,” I said. “Either she is or she isn’t.”
“She isn’t. Don’t you think you should prepare her or something?”
I could take her somewhere beautiful, plan something special—but right now I just needed to see her. Needed her to give me a chance to explain.
“I don’t think I can waste more time. When will she be back?”
“I don’t know.” Alba shoved the package into her oversized purse.
“Can you text her? Please?”
She zipped the bag. “It’s none of your business, but fine. She has a coffee date with someone from her old high school. I’m not spoiling it for her. You can wait.”
A date. A fucking date. There was only one guy it could be. My fists clenched, jaw locking tight. If that bastard Kyle was stillaround—
“Whoa.” Alba’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t even think about it. You can’t expect her to wait forever. Don’t look so pissed, and don’t ruin this for her.”
“Don’t ruin what, exactly? A date with an asshole she doesn’t even care about?”
Alba snorted. “How would you know after two years apart, Asher?”
I didn’t. I just prayed the same love that nearly destroyed me—but also kept me breathing—still lived in Kaia’s heart.
“What coffee shop?” I asked.
Alba scoffed. “Like I’d tell you. If you know her as well as you say, figure it out. I’ve gotta go.”
Kaia and I had only been to Emerport together once—not enough to know her favorite spots.
I thought of places Ale had mentioned. If Kyle wanted to impress her, he’d take her somewhere by the beach. She loved the beach.
I’d start there.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Kaia
The waitress set our cappuccinos on the table. Kyle grinned, twirling a sugar packet between his fingers, a playful gleam in his eyes. He was looking at me like I was one of the desserts on the menu.
Crap.
When I’d run into him on campus, saying yes to coffee seemed harmless—two old friends catching up. I hadn’t thought he still liked me, but what if he did?
Did chatting over coffee count as leading him on? I hoped not.
He’d grown into a handsome guy—broad shoulders, light chestnut hair, dimples when he smiled—but I needed a relationship like I needed another hole in my heart. Between working to cover food and textbooks and drowning in student loans, romance wasn’t on the list.
I forced myself to relax. I was getting ahead of myself. He hadn’t said anything about dating. For all I knew, he could have a girlfriend.
“So, you teach dance?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“Yeah.” I lifted the cappuccino to my mouth. “I love it.”
I taught kids and teens, and the studio was the best part of my days—along with the degree I was chasing.
