Page 83 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

She frowned. “Well, then we don’t need to look online. There wasn’t much else to see.”

“How desperate are you to move?”

“Not desperate.” Poppy studied my face, her eyes traveling from mine, down my nose and to my mouth. “Kind of desperate.” She shook her head. “I don’t know. I wish I had thought of it sooner before everything was taken by the college kids.”

“Yeah. Your timing is off.”

It was the beginning of September and college was back in swing. Coffee shops around town were packed full of studying students. Traffic was a nightmare if you got within a mile of the university. And available rental space was nonexistent.

“Sorry.” I covered her hand resting on the counter.

She turned her palm up and threaded her fingers with mine. “It’s okay.”

“Cole?” a voice snapped behind us.

Oh, fuck. I knew that snap.

Aly.

Just as I’d expected, she was standing five feet away when Poppy and I turned. Her eyes were locked on our linked hands.

I smiled, hoping she’d be cool and not make this awkward. “Aly.”

But no.

She screwed up her mouth and gave Poppy the death glare—the same glare I used to get whenever I left my towel on the bathroom floor.

Aly marched the remaining distance and stood right by my side. “Who’s this?”

“Poppy, meet Aly. Aly, this is Poppy, and this is her restaurant.”

Poppy untwisted her fingers from mine and stood, extending her hand to Aly. “Hi. Nice to meet you. Can I get you something to eat or drink?”

Aly glared at Poppy’s hand, then crossed her arms over her chest as she turned that glare on me. “That didn’t take you long, did it?”

“Aly, don’t.”

“No, you don’t.” She uncrossed her arms and jabbed a finger into my shoulder. “You could have at least waited a little while. We were together for two years, Cole. Two years. How could you have moved on already? Did our relationship mean nothing to you?”

I looked over at Poppy, hoping she could read the I’m sorry in my eyes. The last thing I wanted was to bring drama into her life, but knowing Aly, she wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

“It’s okay.” Poppy’s gaze softened “I’ll let you guys talk.” Then she backed away, disappearing into the kitchen and sending Helen out to watch the counter.

When she was gone, I stood, gesturing to the door. “Let’s go talk outside.” By some miracle, Aly followed me without a word, though she huffed behind me as we walked. By the time we reached the sidewalk outside, her anger had morphed to hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded as the tears started to fall.

“Don’t cry.” My plea did nothing, but then again, Aly had always been a crier. Whenever Mom or my sister or Poppy cried, it damn near broke my heart. Aly’s tears, on the other hand, had stopped bothering me a year ago—partly because she used them for manipulation, partly because she never tried to fight them back.

One of the reasons I admired the hell out of Poppy was because she worked so hard not to cry. And when she did? Shit was bad.

But still, I didn’t want Aly to cry. I didn’t want to cause her pain.

“I never meant to hurt you.”

She nodded, reaching up to swipe a tear away. “Sure. Whatever you say.”