A beat of silence.
What about you?
What’s the worst life choice you’ve ever made?
“Stealing your story before you even knew it was gone,” that familiar, maddening voice slides down my spine.
My head slowly,slowlylooks up. And I promptly lose all capacity for logical thought.
Standing in my shop, wearing the most ridiculous shirt, and holding a basket of fries, is Nolan “What the Fuck” Rhodes, dimple and all.
I blink. Once. Twice. Because surely I’m hallucinating.
But no. He’s real.
The shirt reads, in bold, sparkling letters:
If Lost, Return to the
Nearest Book Babe
There are actual flecks of glitter clinging to the fabric, catching the light like tiny weapons of mass distraction.
My body wants to bolt, my heart wants to collapse, and my soul is clawing its way to the surface screaminggo to him.
But my feet are rooted to the ground.
Nolan stays where he is, respectful. Careful. Lettingmemake the first move.
Finally, somehow, I find my voice. “Subtle entrance,” I say hoarsely.
His smile tugs wider. “Had to live up to my reputation.”
“And what reputation is that exactly?”
He takes a slow, tentative step closer. “Persistent dumbass. Professional fry thief. Guy who once said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, but never—not once—stopped wishing he could make it right.”
The whole world fades out.
It’s just him. And me. And the invisible earthquake under my skin, shaking loose every piece I tried so hard to glue together after I left.
“You broke me,” I whisper. It rips out, sharp and unfiltered, before I can stop it.
Nolan’s throat works as he swallows. He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t pretend. Hetakesthe weight of it.
“I know,” he rasps, the words tearing out of him. “And there hasn’t been a single day since that I haven’t felt it—knowing that when you were handing me your heart, I was holding a loaded gun behind my back.”
Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away. I’m so tired of crying over him.
“Rorie,” he steps forward and continues, “I know what was up on that screen.”
“No, you don’t. That wasmylife.” I point to my chest.
“Yes, it was. Every grief you’ve survived, every dream you’ve buried, every piece you should’ve been allowed to guard, and I ripped it from you without a second thought. I didn’t just break your trust. I broke the version of you that believed you could ever trust someone like me.”
Swiping the tears away, I cross my arms over my chest, protectively.
Nolan takes another step closer but I step back.
