“Why, sugar?” he asked, looking over my shoulder in question.
“Please, they’re nice people. I just…I can’t see them. Please?” I asked again, unable to curb my clear desperation.
He looked at me with concern before nodding. “Sure thing, sugar plum,” he agreed, taking the platter from me and strutting his way to their table.
I hid out in the kitchen until Dwayne gave me the all-clear. He covered all my tables for that hour. I owed him a favor, which meant I’d likely be seeing a lot of Zac Efron in my future.
“Thanks,” I sighed, shoving off from the counter I sat on.
“No problem, honey.” He patted my leg and didn’t ask anything more.
Another week went by. Mad was cutting a tooth so I was exhausted when I walked in that evening to start my shift. I felt like a zombie with a notepad as I moved from table to table.
“Table 10’s a hottie!” Dwayne squealed with a wink. I gave him a small nod and with half a grin, headed in that direction.
“Can I take your order?” I asked, my eyes on my notepad.
“I’ll have the lasagna – and you,” the familiar voice answered.
My heart stopped. I gasped, my eyes wide, all exhaustion forgotten and replaced with adrenalin.
I looked up into familiar grey eyes and felt panic and lust all at once.
“Hi, Soph,” he greeted, his tone calm, though his eyes glittered with an unspoken emotion.
He looked amazing. His hair was shorter, the familiar curls gone but his beard remained. He looked bigger, more muscular but it was possible I’d forgotten how big he’d always been.
“H-hi,” I stammered. “What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here?” he growled incredulously. “What the hell are you doing here, Sophie?” he demanded.
My eyes darted nervously around the restaurant. “You should go.” My voice betrayed my worry.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he shook his head, his eyes sweeping my frame.
“Ax, seriously. I left for a reason. A good one. You should go,” I hissed.
“Can’t,” he shook his head.
My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you can’t?”
He leaned forward in the booth, his hand reaching out to clasp my wrist. “I’ve spent over a year tormented over you, Sophie. We are going to talk. And I’m not leaving until we do.”
Oh, hell no. Just…no.
“Tormented over me?” I asked incredulously. “Since when? What?” I stammered, truly dumbfounded.
“That could be part of the talking portion.” he shrugged.
He said it so casually as though his hot and cold behavior had been no big deal. It pissed me right the hell off.
“You never could decide what you wanted from me. I’m not the same girl you knew.” I shook my head. “I don’t have time for this. I advise you to go straight back to Hawthorne,” I told him sternly, turning on my heel and rushing to the kitchen.
What was he even doing here? It had to have been Henry. I could have sworn he hadn’t seen me. My heart was pounding so hard; I was worried I’d need an ambulance at this rate. I collapsed on the ground next to the stove, panting for breath. Another shift hiding out in the kitchen, great way to keep a job.
When the door swung open, I winced as his motorcycle boots came into view. He heaved a sigh and crouched in front of me. “I knew this wouldn’t be easy.” His voice was gentle as he lifted my chin to force me to look in his eyes. “But, Soph, it’s not just me. Your brother, Kat, all of us miss you like hell. We’ve been searching for you, worried about you for over a year. You’re family. We’re going to talk,” he commanded, his beautiful eyes glittering with intensity.
I shook my head. “You should go.”
