And it’s not because I’m a ballerina who needs to follow a strict diet.
Or at least, it’s notonlybecause of that.
It’s also because I’m a stupid girl who fell for a villain.
So I don’t get to have any; it’s my punishment.
I shake my head, digging into my stupid fruit cup. “Nope.”
Wyn frowns and puts it in her mouth, licking the spoon. “Are you sure? Because this is very good.”
I hate her.
“I know.” I narrow my eyes at her. “I work here over the summer, remember?”
I do.
Again, because I’m a stupid, brokenhearted girl who needs to remember.
Who needs to remember all the ways she was stupid in the past so she doesn’t fallstupidagain.
Wyn takes another bite of her frosting. “Yeah, I don’t know how you can work here and still not eat this. This isso good, Callie.”
If she says it one more time,one more, I won’t be responsible for what I do.
As it is, it’s so hard to sit here and watch her eat my favorite thing in the world and not have any myself.
As hard as it is to see new knitting patterns in those online magazines and on Pinterest and not getting my knitting needles out and getting down to business.
Because once upon a time, I not only fell for a villain, I made him a cozy sweater too.
So all of this is my punishment.
No cupcakes even though I force myself to work in a cupcake shop and no knitting even though I make myself browse through those magazines all the time.
“Wyn, if you don’t stopoohingandahhingover this cupcake, I’m going to…”
I trail off then.
Because something absurd happens.
Something out of this world. Something that I never evenimaginedwould happen.
Something likehimappearing out of nowhere at our table and sitting down — actually, literally — across from me.
He’s sitting across from me,at our table.
At Buttery Blossoms.
And he’s staring at me with his pretty gray eyes all intense and piercing.
What?
“What?” I say out loud. “What are you —”
He turns away from me and focuses on Wyn. “Hi.”
Her eyes pop wide at his voice. I don’t blame her. It’s deep and smooth, rich.
