“What did he say?”
“He didn’t answer. He said he had to go; then, he booked it out the door. Didn’t even finish his popcorn, and he’s anal about his popcorn,” I explain, hating how well I know him.
“And you haven’t heard from him since?” Sophie asks.
“Not one word.”
“He usually comes in before the morning rush, but we didn’t see him,” Indie adds, wringing the dishrag in her hands that we usually wipe down the counters with.
“Which means he’s probably embarrassed for being an idiot,” Sophie concludes.
Suzette puckers her lips. “And it also means we need to figure out how to get him to fess up and admit that he’s the one for you.”
“If getting front row seats to a make-out session between me and his good friend-slash-roommate isn’t enough to push him into telling me how he feels, then I don’t know what will,” I murmur honestly.
“Maybe he’s scared,” Indie offers. “I mean, that’s why you never told him how you feel about him, either. You didn’t want to screw anything up.”
“That makes sense,” Suzette agrees. “So, you’re officially writing Conner off?”
With a deep breath, I grimace. I’ve been analyzing my feelings nonstop all morning and most of last night too. After a few seconds, I answer her. “I just…I don’t get the zing with Conner. The kiss was nice. He had good technique. He even tasted pretty good. It just didn’t…wow me like it did with Levi. And that was before I knew Levi could maybe have feelings for me too.”
“Maybe?” Sophie scoffs. “I have no doubt in my mind that Levi’s in love with you, Charlie Brown.” I roll my eyes at her nickname as she continues. “Our plan worked. Now we just need to give Levi one final push,” she reiterates.
Folding her arms, Suzette looks toward the ceiling before muttering, “But how do we do that? Especially if we’re letting Conner off the hook.”
“No idea.” Sophie shrugs.
“I’m not sure I want to give him one final push,” I admit, defeated. “If he hasn’t made the leap in almost two decades, what the hell is going to make him jump now? I’m a little hurt by the crap he said too. Maybe it would be best if I just….”
“If you just…what?” Indie asks, begging me to finish my sentence.
Leaning my elbows against the glass counter, I weave my fingers into my hair and hold my head in my hands. “If I just let him go.”
The bell on the front door of Get Baked chimes, all of our heads snapping in its direction before the devil himself walks over the threshold, and the women scatter like ants. Hell, even Suzette, who definitely doesn’t work here, snatches the dishrag from Indie’s hand and begins wiping down the counters like a seasoned pro.
Tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear that had fallen out of my half-ass ponytail, I clear my throat then turn on my heel to hide behind the register. My movements are shaky as my hands fidget with the sample tray filled with bite-sized pieces of pumpkin bread. An awkwardness fills the room until I’m sure we’re all suffocating from it. Eyes darting to the side, I find Indie and Sophie whispering to each other and want to smack them upside the head.
Subtle ladies. Really subtle.
“Hey,” a gruff voice murmurs. The sound does weird things to my insides as I lick my lips and peek up at him.
“Hi.”
“How’s your day going?”
Ugh. Small talk? Really?
“It’s fine.”
I don’t bother to ask him how his day is going because I’m too peeved at him.
“Can I get that brioche bread you’re always raving about?” he asks, sliding his hands into his front pockets. The action reminds me of when we were little. It tugs on a loose thread in the protective security blanket I’d woven around my brittle heart.
“Sure,” I mumble under my breath. After boxing up his order, I set it on the counter. “Anything else?”
“And an eclair?”
“Yup.” I grab an eclair and put it beside the brioche bun in the pink cardboard box. “Anything else?”
The shop is so quiet, I’m positive you could hear a pin drop. Glancing over his shoulder to find three sets of eyes staring holes into the side of his face, he drops his voice low. “Any chance you could take a break for a few minutes? Maybe go on a quick walk with me or something?”
“I’m working, Levi.”
“She can go!” Sophie interjects while rubbing her swollen, pregnant belly with an innocent smile.
If she wasn’t