Violet waved a hand, then returned to furious typing. “I’ve got better things to do.”
“I’ve noticed.” Seth gestured to her laptop. “What are you working on over there?”
The teenager gave him her haughtiest look yet. “I’m writing erotic fanfiction about Hannibal Lecter.”
Seth could only nod. That sounded exactly right.
Seth wasn’t surprisedto find Riley hovering outside his bakery door at quarter to six the next day.
He felt almost like he’d summoned his quiet stalker by asking questions. And maybe summoned him for a second chance to be a little kinder. Seth felt oddly responsible for him. Like they were connected somehow.
Which he wasn’t. And they weren’t.
But Seth knew what it felt like to be on the outside, still trying to find his people. He’d been lucky enough to figure it out early—who he was and what he wanted to surround himself with—but that wasn’t always the case for young men who didn’t fit into anyeasy mold.
Maybe this Riley was looking for his people too. Or maybe he just wanted some pastries. Whatever his reason for showing up, Seth wasn’t going to turn a hungry kid away.
He was stocking the display case when he saw the shadow at the front window. Seth returned the tray to the rack stand before heading over to unlock the front door, holding it open just wide enough to poke his head out.
Riley was wearing the same collared jacket and another pair of worn jeans, his hair slightly messy in that careless, heartthrob way that could have been genuine or could have required a fistful of mousse and a diffuser.
“It’s freezing out here,” Seth said by way of greeting. “Why don’t you come inside?”
Riley’s dark eyes were just as intense as Seth remembered, boring into him without mercy. He didn’t say anything to Seth’s offer, but when Seth turned around, Riley was right behind him, following him inside.
Seth couldn’t hear Riley’s steps—the kid was light on his feet, that was for sure—but he could feel the heat against his back and smell the scent of forest invading his bakery.
“Take a seat,” Seth said without looking, heading back behind the counter, where his coffeepot was already up and running. “I’m having coffee. You want some?”
When he turned to catch the answer, Riley was already sitting obediently at one of Seth’s two-seater tables. He shook his head.
“Hot cocoa?” Seth offered.
Another head shake.
“Tea?”
A pause, and then Riley nodded.
Seth grabbed an English breakfast tea bag and, after a moment of deliberation, selected one of his ceramic mugs rather than a to-go cup. He filled the mug with hot water, then grabbed a plate, tossing a broken maple-pecan scone on it.
He set both in front of his guest. “This broke coming off the pan,” he said, pushing the plate a little closer. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“Thank you.”
Riley’s voice was just as pleasant as Seth remembered, still low and soft, even when he wasn’t murmuring vague threats about eating innocent bakers.
“You’re Riley.”
Riley didn’t seem surprised that Seth knew his name. He only nodded.
That odd dichotomy was still there—the face of a lost, pretty kid, the eyes of someone who’d seen more than their fair share. Seth fought not to stare, although he only would have been matching his guest vibe for vibe if he did.
“I’m Seth.”
“Seth,” Riley repeated. And then he smiled, full and wide.
And yeah, the dark and brooding look really worked for this kid, but that smile? Devastating.Hewas sort of devastating. Seth needed to watch himself. He couldn’t go getting smitten with a guy barely out of his teens. It screamed creepy old man vibes, and he wasn’t having it.
