His eyebrows raised and the look of surprise on his face would have been comical had it been anybody else. “Anything else?”
“For breakfast,” I explained in a deadpan. “Can I get you anything else for breakfast.”
He glanced at his food, like he’d just remembered it was there. “You’re still workinghere?”
Shame and embarrassment punched me in the stomach in quick succession, a painful one-two of regret. Good grief. How could this man, after all this time, still manage to make me feel an inch tall?
“I am still working here,” I confirmed, my chin held high in proud defiance.
“Ruby…”
“Levi,” I snapped, cutting him off before he could wound my pride any more. “Do you need anything else?”
Thoughts flickered across his face and I tried not to wish I could read them. He had always been like that and for some reason I liked that he still hadn’t mastered the art of hiding his emotions. It made him more human somehow—more vulnerable.
After a long pause, he tilted his head toward the other side of the booth. “Sit down with me for a minute. Let’s catch up.”
I felt my lips tug up into a sardonic smile. “And what would we talk about? We’ve already established what I’ve been up to the last few years.” When his eyebrows quirked in confusion, I explained. “Still working here. Remember?”
“Ruby, that’s not what I meant—”
“And I already know why you’re back in town. So, let’s skip the pretend pleasantries and get on with our lives, yeah?”
He leaned forward, drawing his legs toward me, parallel with the table, and sitting up straighter. Even though I was standing, and he was sitting, he somehow managed to bring us just a foot apart. I could smell him this close and a sharp, tingling heat flooded me faster than I could stomp it down. Soap and laundry detergent. Just like graduation night.
I recoiled, showing weakness by taking a step back.
No matter how much time had passed, some things had not changed. Like his smell.
And my reaction to it.
“Same old, Ruby,” he murmured thoughtfully.
I made a sound in the back of my throat. “Hardly.” Leaning forward quickly, I brushed his shoulder with my chest—not on purpose—I needed his half empty coffee cup. “You don’t know me anymore, Levi.”
“I’d venture to say I’ve never known you. Not the real you.”
I shot him a dirty look, not liking his thoughtful tone.
“But, to be fair, you’ve never known me either.”
“I’ll get you a refill,” I told him, ignoring everything else. “Back in a sec.”
I nearly tripped over my own feet when he quietly said, “Looking forward to it.”
The counter felt like base after the strange interaction with Levi. Hadn’t I just decided to ignore the idiot? And now he was here, in my space, sucking up all the oxygen and reminding me of things better left in the past.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, sugar,” Rosie gasped when I stepped up to the coffee pot. “You all right?”
No. No, I was not all right. “Not a ghost,” I said quietly—although he could have been for how much he reminded me of Logan. “Levi Cole.”
“Ah.” She loosed a sigh that was too dreamy for a woman who played hard to get. “That boy grew up in the time he’s been gone, now hasn’t he?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I told the inky coffee.
She made a tsking sound. “Yes, you do. You’ve got two eyes. You know exactly what I mean. That boy grew up in the most delicious way.”
I faced her, shoving the fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “Then I’ll let you have the privilege of delivering his refill. Ogle all you’d like.”
