Austin and Drew disappear into the coffee shop, leaving Sophie and me with Luke.
“How’s your leg?” Sophie asks him.
“It’s already a lot better,” he says, looking a little sheepish. “I’m sorry I ruined your run.”
“I was happy to stop,” I admit. “I think the group was too fast for me.”
“No shame in that,” Luke says quietly. “I guess today it was too fast for me too.”
But it wasn’t. I was watching Luke, and the pace was easy for him. He realized I was in trouble and faked a cramp to give me an excuse to stop running.
Sophie looks skeptical too, but before she can say anything, Austin and Drew return. Austin’s balancing five bottles of water on a white bakery box, and Drew’s holding two trays of coffees.
“I got muffins, too,” Austin says cheerfully. He distributes the bottles of water, then opens the bakery box, revealing six muffins in a variety of flavors. “There’s pumpkin cream cheese for you, Kaminsky. It’ll match your hair.”
Sophie rolls her eyes and takes a blueberry one, while I eye the pumpkin cream cheese muffin and consider what it will do to my diet. But I’ve always been a sucker for pumpkin cream cheese, and this muffin looks particularlydelicious; the top is beautifully domed and decorated with toasted sunflower seeds.
Fuck it. After the near-death experience of running with the intermediate group, I deserve this. I take the pumpkin muffin, set it on a napkin, and break a piece off the top.
Pumpkin, ginger, and cinnamon have always been a winning combination, and this muffin tastes like heaven. I close my eyes for a minute, savoring the taste on my tongue.
When I open my eyes, everyone at the table is staring at me, and I wonder if I moaned a little. “I really like pumpkin spice,” I explain, feeling a little embarrassed.
“Nothing wrong with that,” Austin says quickly. He breaks the top off a lemon poppyseed muffin and leans back in his chair. “So, Melissa. How is it that you’ve known Sophie and Luke since high school, but I haven’t met you until now?”
“I just moved back from Toronto,” I explain.
“Then you’ll need someone to show you around,” Austin says flirtatiously. “Somerset’s probably changed a lot since you were last here. Let me take you to dinner.”
At first, I can hardly believe he’s serious. I’m not the sort of girl who attracts the interest of guys like Austin Davenport. But Drew and Sophie don’t look at all surprised by the pickup attempt. I can’t tell what Luke thinks, because he’s staring at the ground.
I sip my coffee to buy some time. “Thanks, Austin,” I say carefully. “I’m really flattered, but I can’t.”
“In a relationship?” He glances at my left hand, and his eyes linger on my bare ring finger.
“Maybe she’s just not into you,” Sophie says sweetly.
“It’s not that,” I say quickly. Austin’s a little too smooth, but there’s something endearing about him. And I respectany man who can ask a girl out in front of an audience. “I just got divorced, and I have two kids, and . . . I don’t think I’m ready.”
“Not ready for dinner,” Austin says thoughtfully. “What about coming to a hockey game? Luke and I play in a men’s league. The first game’s on Thursday.”
“Sounds really romantic,” Sophie says sarcastically. “Sitting in a cold arena, watching you chase a puck.”
“Some girls like hockey,” Austin counters. “It’s a manly sport. And we could get pizza after. Not for dinner, of course, just as a snack.”
“I don’t know,” I say slowly. Austin’s attention is a balm to my confidence, which has been pretty low since my divorce. My ego loves the idea of dating him, but if I’m honest, my heart’s indifferent.
Probably because my heart wants Luke, who’s turning out to be the king of mixed signals.
Austin turns to Luke. “Help me out here. Tell Melissa she should come watch us play hockey.”
“You should come watch us play hockey, Melissa,” Luke repeats obediently. I meet his eye, trying to gauge whether he really wants me to come watch his game.
“Okay,” I give in. “If I can find a babysitter, I’ll come to the game.”
“Great,” Austin says. “I’ll give you my number so you can let me know.”
As I type his number into my phone, I’m hit by a breeze off the lake, and I shiver a little. I’m damp with sweat from the run, and now that I’m no longer moving, I’m cold.
