I clicked the button, and my screen lit up. I had a text message from Jensen. My stomach dropped, and I glanced up at Heidi.
“Let me guess…lover boy?”
“Yeah.”
I swiped to open and read the message.
Emery, are you free this afternoon? I canceled my meetings for the day and wanted to see if you would be interested in getting coffee. I know this little place over by campus; it’s my favorite—Death by Chocolate. I don’t know if you’ve ever been since it’s pretty new. I could meet you. Say two o’clock?
“What does he have to say?”
I passed the phone over to Heidi. “I’m way more confused now.”
“He wants to meet you at Kimber’s bakery?” Heidi asked with a chuckle.
“I’m sure he doesn’t know that she owns it.”
“True, but damn. I wonder what happened in his head. Besides the fact that canceling meetings is so not like him. I’ve never heard of him willfully canceling a meeting. He must have realized how much he fucked up.”
“Maybe.”
“Or he wants round two.”
I snatched my phone out of Heidi’s hand. “There’s no way.”
“Well, are you going to meet him?”
“Did curiosity kill the cat?” I asked her.
“Yeah, but it had nine lives and shit.”
Death by Chocolate was the love child of my sister’s bachelors in food science and her achievements in culinary school. The sugary-sweet smell was what I always associated with Kimber. When we were younger, I used to jokingly sing the Bagel Bites commercial jingle to her with new words about all the baking she did.
“Cupcakes in the morning, cookies in the evening, chocolate at suppertime. When Kimber’s in the kitchen, you can eat baked goods anytime,” I hummed to myself as the bell dinged overhead.
It was a quaint and totally adorable coffee shop and bakery. The floors were black-and-white tiles, and the walls were iced in mint glaze. The countertops were powdered-sugar white granite, and the cabinetry was a buttery lemon bar. Each table was a different-flavored French macaron with cushioned fruit-tart chairs. Elaborate wedding cakes in glass boxes decorated the room. The best part was the bar filled with row after row of sweets hiding behind glass, just waiting to be enjoyed.
“Can I help you?” a girl asked. She wore a Death by Chocolate apron and looked to be a Tech student.
“I’ll take a snickerdoodle cookie and two of the strawberry macarons, please.”
“And a slice of death by chocolate cake,” Jensen said from behind me.
I nearly jumped out of my skin and whirled around. “Jesus, you scared me.”
“I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I thought you’d have heard the bell chime,” he said.
My eyes traveled the length of him, and I enjoyed every single moment, as if I were looking at my last sunrise. He had on a midnight-black suit that had to have been custom-fitted for his body. His button-up was white and crisp with a herringbone texture that had always been my favorite, and his Texas Tech Red Raiders red tie. And, even though he was dressed as sharp as ever, it was his eyes that caught me. Dark as Kimber’s famous chocolate cake and looking at me like most of the customers did when the cake was presented to them.
“It’s fine,” I said, turning my back on him.
Because it didn’t matter how hot he looked or how much he looked like he was ready to devour me again, he had reminded me all too well why I had sworn off the Wright family.
“Anything else for you two?” the woman asked. She placed our treats on the counter.
“I’ll take a cup of coffee,” I said.
“Make that two.”
I pulled out my wallet to pay. I did not want him to think this was a date.
He shooed me aside. “I’ve got it.”
“I can pay for my own things,” I said irritably.
“I know you can, but I invited you here. So, I’m paying.” His face was stern, and I realized he had switched into business mode or something. Because he was not brokering any arguments.
I raised my hands in defeat and grabbed my plate of sweets. “I’ll get us a table.”
A table was open in the back corner, and I plopped down into the open seat that faced the rest of the store. I was maddeningly curious about what Jensen wanted to talk about mere hours after ditching me. Part of me wanted to have a plan for whatever was going to come out of his mouth, but I felt woefully unprepared.
Jensen set our coffees along with his slice of cake on the table. I added cream and sugar while I avoided eye contact.
“Emery,” he began, “I…”
I glanced up at him over the rim of my coffee. I blew on it a little and then took a sip. “What?”