There’s no humming or dancing. I can’t bring myself to work on my Spanish while I bake either. I’ve just been going through the motions, opening up the shop and getting ready for the day. Time seems to stand still as I do it. Each minute that passes, knowing he’s alone in St. Louis and I’m here makes the tightness in my chest a little more acute. When I pull the sticky buns out of the oven, I can’t stop the tears from falling. Willa’s been making them for me but we ran out yesterday so I needed to make them first thing this morning.
The service door creaks open and I frantically swipe at my face, trying to cover the sadness with a forced smile. Willa steps flatter when she walks into the shop and sees my puffy red face still damp with tears. Dropping her keys and phone to the metal prep table as she rushes to my side. “Oh, honey. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” That’s a bold-faced lie. I’m so far from fine right now, everything’s a mess. I’m crying over sticky buns because they remind me of Cruz. I asked him not to leave, and he went, but that’s not why I feel like my stomach is tied in knots.
“It’s very clearly not fine, Lilah.” Willa takes my hand and leads me over to the desk chair in the corner. “Is this about Cruz?”
“How’d you know?” I ask through short breaths as I try to rein in the tears.
“For starters, you’re in love with the guy. So when I find you sobbing over his favorite dessert, it’s not a reach to assume it has something to do with him.”
Her words catch me off guard. I thought I knew what love was when I was with Brad, but what I feel for Cruz is nothing like that. It’s more. Deeper. Organic. The way I feel about him spills over to every part of my life and every part of my being. He’s a part of me that can’t be left out. And I would never want him to. It would be like sticky buns without caramel—incomplete and nowhere near as sweet. Is that why it hurts so bad, because I’m missing a piece of me?
The door toBuns & Roseschimes and before either Willa or I can get to the front to see who it is, Poppy’s voice sounds through the quiet space.
“Lilah, you back there?” Poppy’s red hair appears around the corner of the open doorway that connects the kitchen to the lobby. She’s wearing a pair of spandex bike shorts and a cropped tank with her running shoes. Her hair hangs in two long braids that swing side to side as she rushes back when she sees the state I am in.
“You were doing so good when I left last night. What happened?” Poppy’s arms come around me, pulling me into her body, holding me tight like maybe she can keep me from falling apart with her arms.
“The sticky buns set me off, they’re his favorite. I know it’s silly. He’s not leaving me. He needs to do this for himself, but I am just so scared for him. And not just because of his head.” I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to fight off the tears. “He wants this to be it. To get the answers he’s been fighting for all these years. It’s going to crush him if it’s not, I’ll have to watch him break all over again.”
“No one wants that, but if it happens, you’ll put him back together and you won’t have to do it alone. You’ll have me, Hendrix, Dean, and Dom. The Bandits are a family. We won’t let you or Cruz fight this alone.”
“God, why am I such a disaster?” I ask, pulling back from her hold and pacing the narrow space between the prep table and the sinks.
“Do you really not know the answer to that?” Poppy asks with a tenderness that tells me she thinks I do.
“Should I have gone with him?” I avoid her question. I’ve asked her the same thing each day since Cruz left. Her response hasn’t wavered.
“I can’t answer that for you, but I think I might have a solution if you need to go to him.”
Wait . . . that last part is new and piques my interest. I know I said I didn’t think I could watch him put himself through this, but I belong there with him. Whatever happens with Miller. I want—no, Ineedto be there for him.
“How?” I ask through a sniffle. The tears have finally stopped at the prospect that I can get to him.
“Mia has that book signing in Denver this week. She’s flying out a few days early to catch this series. She’ll be here tonight.”
“I remember, but I am not sure how that helps.”
“She worked in a coffee shop in college. Between the two of us, we can help Willa and Mikey cover.”
“I can’t ask her to do that, or you.”
Poppy shakes her head. “You’re not. We are volunteering and I know you would do the same. Let us help you. I mean, I’m honestly not sure how much help I’ll be, but I can sweep and ring up customers.”
I look at Willa, who’s been working quietly beside us this whole time. She’s standing with her hands on her hips, giving me a glare that honestly scares the shit out of me. “Why did you hire me?”
“Is that a serious question?” Wrong thing to say. Her eyes narrow even further. “Because I needed the help and you are grossly over-qualified, an excellent baker, and reliable.”
“So, do you not trust me? Or are you a control freak?” she asks with her head cocked to the side. Damn her and her psychology degree. She is one-hundred percent using it on me right now.
“Um . . . No. I mean yes, I trust you. That felt like a trick question.”
“If you want to go be with the man you love, don’t let the shop stand in the way. We’ll be fine. If Poppy and Mia want to hang out and help, that’s okay. But I can handle it.” She sighs, looking around the kitchen. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about giving me more hours. I hardly have any classes over the summer, so it won’t be a problem. Baking and making coffee isn’t exactly rocket science. The other stuff, payroll, vendor orders, whatever—we can figure out how to have you do it from St. Louis.”
I love Cruz and not just as my best friend. I am in love with him. Big, messy, in-love feelings and I sent him off to do something awful and hard, alone. There’s a reason it hurt so much to watch him walk away. He was never supposed to do this alone. I should be by his side.
“I need to get to St. Louis,” I say, looking at Poppy, not even sure where to start.
