Page 47 of Blooming


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“My dad was a baker,” I said, going back to his earlier question. I’d wanted to give him a real answer, and now he was going to. “We actually only lived a couple of towns over. He died when I was fourteen, but I always remember what it felt like to walk into a bakery that smelled of fresh bread and warm cinnamon sugar. I felt more at home there than I did in my own room. And then… then he was gone.”

Milo turned his hand over, taking hold of my fingers and squeezing them tight. I squeezed back, then took a breath to continue.

“I always wanted to run my own bakery, I felt like I’d never be at peace until itwashome, y’know? And then I was in Otter Bay one day to pick something up and the place next to the florist was up for rent. It’d been a bakery before, but it’d also been empty for years. And I thought, y’know, why not here? And then for the first time inanotherfourteen years, I felt like I had a home.”

Milo didn’t say anything, but he threaded our fingers together and squeezed again, which was more eloquent than anything I would have been able to think of.

“Sorry, I really just meant to make sure you ate something, not tell you my whole life story. And to see you, I guess. I missed you.”

“It’s been…” Milo paused to take his phone out, awkwardly, with the wrong hand, because he wouldn’t let go of mine. “Five and a half hours,” he said.

I shrugged.

He squeezed my fingers again. “Missed you, too. And I liked hearing your life story. I like talking to you.”

The look on my face must have been ridiculous, but that was fine. I couldn’t believe I’d almost talked myself into missing out on this.

Besides, Milo was smiling another one of those shy smiles I couldn’t get enough of, so the rewards for being brave were piling up.

“Xander!”

I snatched my hand away from Milo on instinct, and the shy smile went away, and I hated myself.

Especially when I realized who was calling out to us.

“Seth,” I greeted, heart still pounding. He’d startled me, and I’d screwed up.

“Just the man I was looking for,” Seth said, grinning at us and bouncing on the spot.

“What for?” I asked.

Seth laughed. “Notyou, sweetheart,” he said. “Milo.”

“Me?” Milo asked, almost a squeak.

“You,” Seth said. “You’re gonna be my photographer for the picnic.”

* * *

“You didn’t haveto go along with him, y’know,” I said as we headed back toward Main Street, our shared lunch break almost over.

I wished I hadn’t taken my hand away from Milo. I regretted it so much it was making my stomach hurt.

“I don’t think people say no to Seth,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“True,” I said. “But I also don’t think you say no to people.”

He laughed. “Call it a personal failing. Besides, I… I dunno. He’s asking me to do something I’ve always wanted to do. Fulfill a little personal fantasy.”

“Now you’re doing it for HaydenandSeth, though,” I said.

“Should I not?” he asked.

“No, I mean, if you want to you should, and they’re good guys. I just. I dunno. You work yourself half to death when you’re not on vacation, I just feel like you could take a break while you are.”

“Looking out for me?” Milo asked, smiling one of those shy smiles at me again. More shy than usual, though. I’d screwed up.

I shrugged. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not sure anyone else will if I don’t.”