I approach the drink station and grab an insulated cup. The burned coffee smell turns my stomach. Maybe I should get a Dr Pepper instead.
As I start to put the cup back, movement catches my eye. I suck in a quick breath.
A beautiful girl in a flowing blue dress has burst through the front door. She’s ditched her heels and lost the pins holding back her long hair. The locks flow around her face, and she shoves them aside. Her chest heaves as her neck cranes, peeking over the rows and rows of junk food.
The clerk frowns at her bare feet.
She stretches onto her toes.
She’s looking for someone.
And my heartbeat ticks up a notch when she finds me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
MORGAN
Will stares at me, his lips parted.
I walk toward him, not sure what to say. My heart thunders, and my palms have started to sweat. I smooth out my dress to wipe them off. I never dreamed he’d still be here. Now that we’re face-to-face, I’m wondering what comes next.
He’s holding a coffee cup, so I stop at the ICEE station before I reach him. Not breaking eye contact, I pull a red-and-blue cup from the holder.
He watches, a crease forming between his brows.
I twirl the cup to keep from fidgeting. “I want you to know I didn’t invite my ex to the wedding.” The pink polish on my bare toenails gleams against grimy linoleum tiles. “I’m sorry for everything. For pushing you away. For being a grumpy work partner. For not punching Leo in the eye when he wouldn’t let me go during that dance. I wanted to find you.”
His feet shift on the linoleum floor.
When he makes no immediate comment, I pull the level on the awful frozen raspberry, the electric-blue stream spooling into my cup. “I keep wondering if things would’ve turned out differently if we’d met at the wedding—rather than here.” I shut off the machine, grab a straw, and then take a tentative step in his direction.
He nods to my ICEE, and the corners of his lips tilt up. “Are you planning to dump that on me?”
I giggle. “No. But how about a do-over?”
He reaches over to pour coffee into his cup. “Okay. And I’ve been wondering the same thing. What if things played out differently? What if we hadn’t ‘bumped into’ each other? But…I have to ask, where’s Lenny?”
I wrap both hands around the ICEE, the cold seeping into my fingers. I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. I told him we’re not getting back together. Ever.” I take another step in his direction. “That’s what we were discussing when you left. I wish you’d said goodbye.”
He lets out a breath, running a hand through his curly hair. “Yeah, me too. But…Hudson said he saw you run off together.”
“I needed to talk to him to make sure he understood where he stands. Which is far away from me.”
Will starts to sip his coffee but makes a face and lowers it to the counter. “I owe you an apology too.” He snags my drink and sets it aside. “I’m sorry for not saying goodbye. And for your skirt and shoes and for calling you a”—he pitches his voice low—“psycho.”
“I forgive you. I already did.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Though I think the ruined clothes were a joint effort.” I reach up and smooth his rumpled tie. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re the rudest boy in the world. So, sorry for that too.”
His dark eyes glow beneath those amazing eyelashes, and their edges crinkle up with his smile. “Forgiven. Done.”
“Good.”
“Good. So we can be—friends?”
“Yeah. We can be friends.” My cheeks warm. “But—”
