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She had put her heart on the line with that message, letting him know just how much she would sacrifice for him.

He wrote: You were right in the store. It isn’t fair to lead you along when any relationship I have now is temporary. We’re better as friends.

Better as friends. The words hit her as though they had actual weight.

For days afterward, for weeks, that weight had pressed into her chest and made it hard to breathe, hard to think.

Better as friends.

After that, things weren’t better, and the two of them weren’t friends. They were people who passed each other uncomfortably in the hallways, pretending they didn’t see each other.

And now that Marlowe was walking next to Jace into the café to talk, she had no idea what to say to him. Should she tell him that after dating him, she’d never told a guy that she loved him? In fact, she’d spent the rest of the school year wishing she could snatch those words back.

He hadn’t deserved that declaration or her adoration.

Sheesh. After seven years, maybe she really did need therapy. She definitely needed to get out and meet more men. For the last three years, when she wasn’t at work, she was with her grandma. The few times she’d gone out on dates, she had to have neighbors come and sit with Grandma. That sort of thing made it hard to have relationships.

At the café, a cheerful, middle-aged hostess showed them to a corner booth and handed them menus. It was long past lunch hour and the place was nearly empty. The tables in the center of the room all had their chairs neatly tucked in, their napkin dispensers and salt shakers waiting at the ready. Soft music filtered across the room, doing its best to provide some ambiance.

Marlowe read her menu, so she didn’t have to look at Jace. She already knew what she wanted. Every time she came here, she got an apple and pecan chicken salad.

“So,” Jace said, his hands pressed against the top of the table, “lay it on me. Tell me all of the ways I was a jerk to you in high school so I can sufficiently apologize.”

She peered at him over her menu. “Does it count as a sincere apology if you plan to apologize before you even know what you did wrong? That seems a little insincere.”

“It counts because I’m sincerely sorry for hurting you. I must have hurt you more than I realized if you’re still angry seven years later.”

That, in a nutshell, was the problem. He hadn’t realized how deeply she was in love with him because he hadn’t been in love with her at all. Explaining it to him would only make her seem more pathetic than she already felt. She was going to have to be a big girl and let it go. He was sorry he hurt her. That was enough.

“Fine,” she said. “I accept your apology.” She went back to her menu. “You don’t have to feel guilty anymore, and you can carry on being the town’s head boy, almost-a-doctor.”

He raised a questioning eyebrow. “Head boy?”

“It’s a position they have in English schools. I read a lot of British novels.”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. “Does accepting an apology count if you haven’t heard the apology? That seems a little insincere.”

She motioned to him. “All right then, apologize.”

“You haven’t given me your list of grievances yet.”

She tapped the bottom of her menu against the table. “We really don’t have to do this. Look, unexpectedly seeing you at my house stirred up negative feelings from the past, but those are my responsibility. I shouldn’t have been so defensive or told you that you were an arrogant jerk.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I was thinking it, though. So, yesterday, I ruminated over our past, dealt with those emotions, and we’re good now.”

“Are we?”

“Yeah, we can go back to being friends. Especially since your definition of friends means we never speak to each other again.”

Jace leaned forward. “See, those sorts of comments make me feel like we’re not really good right now.”

“I was just joking. You remember that about me? I joke around.”

“I remember a lot about you.” His gaze held hers for so long that she was the one to look away and turn her attention back to the menu.

A waitress came to the table, pad in hand, to get their orders. For once, it was perfect timing, a natural way to change the subject to something else. After the waitress left, they made small talk for a few minutes, keeping to safe subjects, until Marlowe said, “You mentioned that you wanted to talk to me about something. What was it?”