Page 13 of Let's Be Forever

“Wait, you two know each other?” Em’s gaze bounces between us, and a glint shines in her eyes. I know what that look screams, but I shake my head, letting her know it’s not like that.

“Yeah, we went to King’s Yard,” I answer simply.

She must pick up on the weird tension because she says, “Do you want me to take this order? I know you were finishing up in the back.”

“No, it’s okay. I got it.”

She hesitates before she’s nodding and heading to the kitchen. “If you need anything, yell out.”

I set my stuff on the counter and draw the pen from the spiral of my planner. As I’m flipping the pages to find a brand-new one, he exhales deeply.

“It’s been…years…” His throat works a swallow. “How’ve you been?”

“Good, I’ve been good.” I’d almost forgotten how tall he is. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. “How have you been?” I awkwardly ask.

The last time we spoke was before Sylas broke up with me. I didn’t bother to stay in contact or keep up with his or the other guys’ lives. Not that I could’ve; I blocked them too.

They didn’t do anything wrong. They were nice, but he was their best friend, not mine.

“Good, good too…”

“So—” we start.

“Sorry, you first,” he says.

“Yeah.” I write the date on the top right corner and worry at my bottom lip.Treat him like any other customer. Stop being weird, I tell myself. “So what can I do for you?”

“Right, yeah.” He snaps out of it. “Gianna said you make the best pastries. She said your tres leches cake is the best she’s ever had and of course it is, you made it. So I want to order that.”

Gianna was one of my very first clients and has been a regular since we opened. She’s tried just about everything and sometimes places an order for something different when she’s feeling adventurous. I don’t know much about her other than she’s covered in tattoos, she’s a barber, she’s gorgeous, and she’s really friendly.

I don’t ask about who her clients are and she doesn’t share, so I never would have seen this coming.

“She really loves that cake.” I smile remembering all the reaction texts she sends me. “Do you want it exactly how I made it for her? I can change the filling and the decor.”

“No, don’t change anything,” he answers eagerly.

“Do you have any allergies?”

I know he doesn’t, but I ask anyway.

I used to bake stuff for the guys all the time, and I had them taste my new recipes too.

Sometimes all of Sylas’s teammates would come over to his penthouse to try them; sometimes it’d just be his closest friends.

“Nope, no allergies.” He gives me a tight-lipped smile as if he knows where my thoughts strayed to.

We go over a few more basics like when he’ll need it and how much it’ll be and about leaving a deposit. Once we’re through, he lingers.

“Anna,” he begins, but closes his mouth. He stares at me long, eyes searching mine for…what? I don’t know. “Sylas?—”

“No,” I cut him off sharply. “Do you need anything else?”

“Right, yeah.” He steps back, looking at the display case filled with pastries. He grabs a few and then picks up some of the business cards, stuffing them in his pocket.

As he pays, he glances at me like he wants to say more but just smiles. “I’ll be here in two weeks.”

“We’ll have it ready…” I paste a professional smile on and keep it on my face until he exits the shop.