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She racked her brain. “Um…I think it was sophomore year? Biology lab?”
He nodded, his fingers massaging her scalp. “It was my second day in Haverport. I was wearing my favorite tie-dye T-shirt my mom made me, and my hair was tied up in a bun, like how my dad wears it. It made me feel confident, like it was my armor in this very new, very unfamiliar environment.”
Images of a younger Kevin flashed through her head, his tie-dye shirt, his Chaco sandals, his khaki shorts, a hemp necklace at his throat that she later learned one of his sisters made for him. Jess remembered that confidence, the unashamed swagger as he stepped into the classroom.
She also remembered the snickering, the name calling, the way her peers pointed their fingers and laughed at his clothes. Her hands curled, grasping fistfuls of his soft cotton T-shirt.
“Do you remember now?” he mumbled, unbothered by the aggressive way she was clinging on to him.
“I remember their laughter,” she admitted. “I remember getting angry.”
“You stood up and screamed at them, actually,” he recounted. “Told them to take their cookie-cutter clothes and their bland, vanilla personalities and shove it up their asses.”
“So ladylike of me,” she coughed.
“It was incredible,” he continued. “Obviously, you know I sat down next to you and we ended up becoming lab partners and friends. But what you don’t know is that after that moment, no one made fun of my clothes or my hair ever again. I’ve always admired you for that, Jess. Your ability to fiercely love the outsider, your desire to want to take care of others. Like you’ve done for Rory this year. Like what you did for me. Still do.”
He combed his fingers through her hair, then rubbed her back. “I know your reasons for not going to college are a lot different than mine. I couldn’t fathom having to do more school and tests and homework, and sitting in a classroom was never my thing. But…it’s been nice knowing I’m not the only one. That you and I are kind of in this together, figuring out the world on our own terms, one day at a time.”
She didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because he continued. “You’ve always been a small comfort. Even if you kind of hate me sometimes.”
“I don’t hate you,” she admitted, her lips brushing against the front of his shirt.
His arms tightened around her, like she was a little clam in its shell. The thought of clams made her heart ache, her mind drifting back to simpler times, to those early morning truck rides to the beach with her dad, and before she could stop herself, she was crying. Her tears dampened his shirt as she softly sobbed. Kevin held her tight, whispering into her ear things that she couldn’t comprehend over the roaring in her heart. The sound of his voice was soothing. Maybe he had always been a small comfort for her, too.
Chapter Nine
Everything was ready. It was the night before opening, and Port Wheels was sparkling. Picnic tables were placed outside with yellow-and-white-checkered umbrellas tied up with matching bows. The glass display case glistened, empty platters ready for croissants, scones, muffins, slices of Gram’s cherry pie, and kanelbullar. Baskets perched on shelves lined with white cotton cloths for freshly baked sourdough and mini baguettes. The chalkboard was bursting with color, with options for baked goods and specialty drinks and a little corner for the daily specials. Tomorrow was mini strawberry shortcakes, with homemade whipped cream and fresh strawberries Jess picked up from the farmers’ market that day.
But she was behind—so behind. It was her first night as an official bakery owner, and already she was failing. Miserably.
She was slicing strawberries when the door creaked open. She flushed. Ever since their little moment in the shop last week, Jess had the hardest time being around Kevin. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry that hard in years. But in his arms, she let it all out in the open, and he’d held her the entire time. Soothing her with his words. It will all be okay, she caught him saying. I’m right here. You’re not alone.
Right now, though, she really wanted to be alone. She didn’t have time to fall apart again. So she kept her eyes locked on the strawberries as he lingered by the door and asked if she needed anything.
“Nothing, all good.” She scooped the sliced strawberries and placed them in the stainless-steel bowl at her side.
“Really, I don’t mind helping.”
“Kevin, I have to get used to doing this every day, I can’t rely on you all the time.” She grabbed a fresh handful and kept slicing. “This is what you hired me to do, remember?”
“True, but tomorrow is the first day, I wouldn’t expect you to be in your groove yet.”
“Seriously, get out. I’m fine.”
“Are you even going to look at me?”
Jess didn’t respond and kept her eyes on the cutting board. Hull. Slice, slice, slice. Scoop. Drop in bowl.
“Are you feeling embarrassed?”
Sweat broke out across her brow. “By what?”
“By…the other day.”
“No,” she lied. “Trying to focus, that’s all.”
The door creaked again as he stepped fully into the kitchen and neared her workspace. He pressed a hand to her back. “All right, I’ll see you bright and early then. Call if you need anything, I’m right upstairs.”
