Time After Time (Sweetbriar Cove #14) - Melody Grace Page 0,40

stopped answering my calls,” she explained. “That was another thing my parents raged about: I wouldn’t tell them who the father was. At first, they wanted me to give Matty up. Or, have him here, and be raised by nannies and au pairs while I went off to college. They really expected me to go to footballs games, and rush a sorority, like nothing was different,” she said, still disbelieving. “And then when I just upped and moved to Sweetbriar Cove… Well, they spent the first couple of years trying to control me, convince me I’d made a mistake. And when I drew a line, and told them to back off, they called Child Protective Services on me.”

“What?” Aidan’s jaw dropped.

“Yup.” Stella sighed. “It was OK,” she added. “The social worker came to visit, and took one look around, and saw Matty was just fine. But that was the final straw with them. I cut them off.” She swallowed, remembering the bitter sting of their betrayal. “I thought it would be harder, but by then, I didn’t really miss them at all. it was more like I missed the parents they’d chosen not to be, you know?”

Aidan nodded slowly, and Stella felt her tension ease a little more. There. She’d explained more about her messy, complicated past, and he hadn’t gone running just yet. Maybe he could handle a few complications, after all.

She looked around, and spotted a cute coffee shop across the way. The sun had moved behind the clouds now, and there was a nip in the air. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, trying to lighten the mood again, “But heavy emotional confessions always make me hungry.”

Aidan smiled. “Then let’s grab that bite.”

“Your treat, remember.”

He chuckled. “Play your cards right, and I’ll even throw in a cookie.”

“Fancy.” Stella grinned back. “I bet you’re a hit with all the ladies.”

They crossed the street and stepped inside the coffee shop. It was a cozy student hangout, with indie music playing and college kids crammed into the worn leather booths. The whole place was decked out for Halloween, and the staff were all in costume too; the scent of cinnamon and spices in the air.

“Come on, Claire!” a zombie bride called over to the girl in a bumblebee outfit, drawing on the chalkboard menu. “It’s a drinks list, not the Mona Lisa.”

The girl looked up, and smiled in greeting. “What can I get you?” she asked, her antennae bobbing. Stella ordered their drinks, and then paused over the pastries.

“Pie looks good…” she said.

“Try the pumpkin,” the waitress suggested. “They make it fresh every day.”

“Then I’ll take a slice. Aidan?” she asked.

He nodded. “Make it three slices.”

“Three?” Stella repeated in disbelief.

“You’re right,” Aidan said, looking serious. “Better throw in a couple of those muffins, too.” He paid, and steered them to a table by the windows. “You should know, us Kinsellas, we eat.”

Sure enough, when the waitress brought their order, Aidan demolished his first slice without even pausing for breath. Stella watched, amused. “Do you just want to forget the fork, and shove the whole thing in your mouth?” she teased.

Aidan grinned around a mouthful of pie. “I told you so.”

Stella picked up her fork, and tried some for herself. It was good: rich and dense, with a hint of cinnamon. With her spiced apple cider warming her from the inside, and the windows fogging against the chill, it finally felt like fall. “Do you think it’ll snow this winter?” she asked.

Aidan arched an eyebrow. “Are we back to the weather?” he asked.

Stella laughed. “Well, I’m all out of deeply emotional confessions for now. Unless you want to talk about my fear of rejection, or habit of keeping men at arm’s length.”

She couldn’t believe she was joking about it, but she felt strangely liberated. She’d laid it all out for him, instead of dancing around the issue like she usually did with her dates; trying to be low maintenance and breezy, to make up for the fact she came with a fourteen-year-old in tow.

But as Aidan finished his pie, Stella noticed, he wasn’t speaking anymore. He took a sip of coffee, fidgeting with his paper napkin; looking around the coffee shop and out of the window. Anywhere but directly at her.

Stella’s heart sank. Maybe he wasn’t OK with her past, after all.

She was surprised by the rush of disappointment that flooded through her. She should be used to this by now, after all. He would be sweet, and apologetic,