Page 48 of When We Were Young

“You disappeared. You didn’t finish school,” I blurt out.

Her eyes narrow, and she frowns. “I did finish. I finished remotely.”

Her words are hushed, and she doesn’t make eye contact with me.

“Why? Why didn’t you come back?” My voice is rough with emotion.

She takes a few shallow breaths in rapid succession, then sighs so softly that I almost miss it.

“That isn’t what we’re talking about right now. I’m trying to explain how I landed here, so you don’t think I’m some weirdo who found where you live and moved here because of you. And in fairness to me, you said you lived in Meadow Creek and wanted to leave Ohio when you graduated. So, I never expected you to be here in Aron Falls.”

I open my mouth to speak, but she hasn’t finished.

“In retrospect, it was stupid of me not to put two and two together and think there might be some connection between your family and Aron Falls.”

“Yeah, my great-great-great-something grandfather founded the town. Yet somehow, we ended up living in Meadow Creek all my life.”

She nods and takes a deep breath, then continues. “So, I left Hollow Hills because... because, um, I needed to. I mean, I didn’t need to, but I wanted to move away. I moved to Elladine, opened a bakery there, and grew it into a really great thing for me at the time. But then I had to go again.”

She quickly adds, “It just didn’t work out after a while.”

She’s jumpy. Evasive, almost.

“So how do you know Georgie Porgie?” I figure if I change the subject for a few minutes, maybe she’ll relax a little bit.

She laughs, and there’s a hint of her pretty smile that I haven’t seen in so very long. I knew I missed it, but hell, seeing it now makes me realize its beauty had faded somewhat in my memory, and I hate that.

“You remember how I like to read romance books, right?”

“Yeah.” I’m not sure where this is going. Does Lizette write books, too?

“Well, I was kind of bored in my evenings and also looking for a little extra money, so I started proofreading for some authors. Georgie ended up being one of those authors.”

“You've been proofreading Georgie's smut books?” I can’t hide the amusement in my tone.

“Hey! They’re not smut. Not that there’d be anything wrong with it if they were, but these are romances with open-door sex scenes. The intent of the book is to tell the love story, and the sex scenes just add spice. But anyway, unless you read it, you won’t understand.”

I lean back in the booth and cross my arms. I smirk.

“Oh, I’ve read everything she has put out. Nice job on the proofreading, by the way. I never find an error in her books.”

Her eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, and I’m pleased I’ve managed to surprise her. She smooshes her lips together as if she’s trying to stop herself from saying something.

“What?” I ask. “I kind of got hooked on them back in college.”

There’s that smile again.

“They’re like reading directions on how—” I stop myself before I say anything that sounds as chauvinistic as it probably was going to, but not soon enough.

The softness in her features disappears, and it’s clear she realized I was about to make a stupid joke about reading romance books to help me know what women want in a man.

She looks out the window, reaches up and tightens her ponytail, then twirls it for a few seconds. When she glances back at me, every part of me burns to tell her that was stupid and I didn’t mean it.

Something about the look on her face holds me back.

“Listen, so I knew that Georgie’s best friend played football, and I knew he had brothers, but honestly, I never paid much attention when she would say names because it was confusing. I remember hearing Henry and Heath, but that’s about it. I swear I never remember her saying that Heath had a brother named Holden. Jesus, if I did, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.” My tone is teasing, but her words sting.