“Should I change?”
“No, you look beautiful. Stop worrying, Oakley. You could turn up in a bin bag, and he’d still love it.”
“That’s not helping.” I wrung my hands together. “Yeah, I really need to change.”
Before I could take a step closer to the door, the bell rang, and I knew it would be Cole. It had been almost an hour since we spoke.
“Too late, darling.”
“No, it’s not. Get the door. I’ll be back in a minute,” I called over my shoulder as I ran out of the room.
Her laughter rang through the house. I was being stupid, but today was important, and even the smallest of details mattered. I grabbed a pair of skinny jeans and a long T-shirt—much more casual.
While I dressed, I heard muffled voices talking downstairs. I prayed they were catching up and Mum wasn’t telling him I was changing again.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly crept downstairs. Cole’s eyes landed on mine as soon as I stepped into the lounge, and my heart skipped a beat. Then a couple more.
Having him close was dizzying. Nothing had changed for me.
“Hi.”
His eyes sparkled under the bright spotlight above him. “Hi.”
“Have a nice time,” Mum said before she walked into the kitchen, allowing us some privacy.
“You ready to go?” he asked, rubbing the back of his neck.
I nodded in response, not trusting my voice to work.
Cole drove us the five minutes it took to reach the café. I played with the hem of my T-shirt the entire way, nervous because I could smell his aftershave and feel his warmth.
He had a new car—a black Audi, no idea which one—but it was nice.
“This is less… likely to break down,” I said, tapping the car seat.
Chuckling, he nodded. “The old one failed its last MOT a year ago. Would’ve cost more to get it repaired. This was a graduation present to myself… and the reason I had to stay with my parents for an extra six months.”
“When are you moving?”
“Haven’t found anywhere yet. Looking at a couple of places, though.”
Cole pulled into the carpark and cut the engine. “I’ll warn you now… The café is different.”
“Different, how?”
“You’ll see,” he said, getting out of the car.
He held the door open for me once we were by the café, and I walked in, turning my nose up as I took it all in.
“From that look on your face, I take it that you don’t like it?”
“No. Why did they change it?” Frowning at the new décor—all white and sleek and shiny—I walked towards the counter.
“To move with the times, apparently.”
I much preferred the old traditional-style diner to this ultra-modern, minimalistic look. It was cold and uninviting. I felt a pang, a big one, at the loss of our childhood hangout.
“I don’t like it, either. Ice cream’s still good, though. Want your usual?” he asked.
