He smiles and faces forward again, but his eyes flick to me. “Even if I was busy, I would’ve come if you’d asked, you know?”
My heart stutters. “Because the trip might help the restaurant?”
“No.” His eyes snap to mine. “Because I’ll do anything you ask.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Madison
NEW YORK
“And you voluntarily went back?” Josie asks, aghast, after hearing how tiny Rome, Kentucky, is.
“I know. I never thought I’d go back either. But . . .” My eyes slide to James, sitting easily in the booth beside me, where he’s been contentedly listening to Josie and me blabber on for the last hour. “I missed home.”
“Couldn’t be me!” she says with glittering eyes. “Someone would have to literally drag me back to my hometown kicking and screaming.” Her braids are out today, and she flicks her long, dark auburn hair over her shoulder.
“Where are you from?” James asks.
“A little town in North Carolina. But believe me, it’s not idyllic. It’s got a run-down Dollar General, lots of discarded tires on the side of the road, and a Sonic that doubles as an illegal dispensary. There’s not a single charming establishment in the whole place. Anymore, at least.”
Now I’m the one gaping. “I had no idea. I thought you were anative New Yorker.” The double nose ring does not scream small town.
“How could you know? You never hung out with me when I asked!” she says with emphasis but no malice.
“I’m sorry.” I wince. “I was in a weird place when I lived here.”
“You mean Caden’s place?” Her eyes glitter, then slide to James and dim. “Oh, sorry.”
James and I quickly share a look.
“Oh. No. We’re . . . not together,” I say, as James echoes something similar in a chaotic overlap.
As if to question our statement, Josie’s mouth quirks up and her eyes flick to where James’s arm is lying behind the back of my seat. He clocks this at the same moment she does and gently pulls it away.
“I’m just a friend,” he says, and for the first time hearing him make that statement drops a sharp rock into the pit of my stomach.
“I want to hear about Caden.”
“He was no one important.”
Josie gives a mocking laugh. “Could’ve fooled me! Every time I texted you or called to hang out, you were at his place. I thought you two were serious.”
“Nope,” I say, trying not to betray too much with that one word. “Just a casual thing to pass the time.” I resituate myself in my seat.
I can feel James’s eyes on my face, but I refuse to look. He knows I’m lying.
“Can you let me out? I need to use the bathroom.” I scoot out, but before he passes me James leans close to my ear and whispers, “You have three minutes to tell her everything you won’t say around me.”
My toes curl. Only James would intentionally leave to give me privacy.
As soon as he’s gone, I can sense Josie is going to ask for more details about Caden, but he’s the last person I want to talk about. So I immediately change the subject.
“Hey . . . you never told me, how did you get connected with Chef Brookes? Did you interview with her?”
“God, no—” She sips her Diet Coke, a laugh rolling from her chest. “Zora is my mom.”
“Your—what? Sorry . . .” I shake my head in disbelief. “Chef Brookes is yourmom?”
