Page 13 of Midnight Lessons

The bell above the bakery door chimes, and the scent of sugar and vanilla wraps around me as I step inside.

Willow is behind the counter, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she focuses on the rows of cookies in front of her. She wields a piping bag like a paintbrush, turning plain cookies into edible art. Damn, she’s cute.

“Low,” I say, keeping my voice level.

She looks up in surprise, the tip of the icing bag hovering mid-air. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Sometimes, I get lost in what I’m doing.”

I clear my throat. Damn, she makes me nervous, like the schoolboy I was when I fell in love with her. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” Her skepticism is palpable, wrapping around us.

“Some information has come my way that concerns you.”

Willow slowly puts the icing bag down, her green eyes locked on mine. Wariness swims in those emerald depths, and I hate being responsible for it. “What kind of information?” Her voice is steady, but I hear the tension behind her question.

I cast a look around the shop, seeing two other customers—ironically enough, both male, and both flicking her furtive glances. Fuckers must know about the betting pool. I force myself to calm down when all I want to do is bang their heads together. “Is there somewhere private we can go?”

She studies me for a long moment, searching my face for something, sincerity, maybe, or a sign of the guy she used to know. Finally, she nods toward the back door. “Okay, I could use some air.”

We navigate through the kitchen, where a middle-aged woman with dark hair is removing a tray of cookies from the oven. I don’t recognize her, so I’m guessing she moved to Midnight Falls after I left.

“Carol, can you cover the shop for a bit?” Willow asks the other woman.

Carol casts me a curious look as she wipes her hands on her apron. “Sure. Take your time.”

Out back, the breeze is a welcome relief from the stuffy kitchen. Willow takes a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly.

“You always loved being outside,” I murmur more to myself than to her as memories of our teenage years bubble up.

Days spent by the river, laughing until our sides hurt. Low in the stands, watching me play football. God, I was such a cocky asshole back then. I thought I was invincible. I was the typical jock unless I was with Low. She was the only one who saw the real me. It seems like a lifetime ago.

“Yeah,” she says simply, hugging herself against the chill. She lifts her eyes to mine. “So, what’s this about?”

“There's a bet going around. About you,” I say bluntly because dancing around the issue isn’t my style.

Her eyes widen. “A bet? What are you talking about?”

I step closer, trying to soften the blow. “It’s... people are betting on who can bed you. Take your virginity. It's disgusting, Low. I overheard it in the teacher’s lounge. Mike brought it up like it was some kind of joke.”

Willow's face drains of color. “I knew something was up. I’ve been uneasy for days. Men keep coming in and staring at me like I’m one of my cookies for sale. I thought I was going crazy, imagining things.”

“I’m sorry, Low. I came straight over as soon as I knew about it. You deserve to know what’s being said behind your back.” I want so badly to find the fucker who’s responsible for this and make them regret splashing her name across social media like she’s some prize to be won instead of the incredible woman she is.

Her hands fly to her face and she presses her palms to her now-flushed cheeks. “Who would do such a thing? It’s… God, how humiliating.”

“I won’t let them get away with it,” I say firmly. “I’ll find out who’s behind this and make sure it ends. They’re cowards hiding behind anonymous posts. But I’ll figure it out.”

She looks at me, her expression hard to read. “And what then, Owen? What are you going to do? Beat them up? Scare them off?”

“If that’s what it takes,” I answer without hesitation. “No one gets to talk about you like that.”

Her laugh is bitter. “No one except you?”

Her words are like a knife to my heart. I clench my jaw so hard that I’m surprised I don’t crack a molar. She’s right. I’m the worst kind of fucking hypocrite, considering what I said about her all those years ago.

I nod abruptly. “I deserved that. But I’m not the arrogant, immature bastard I was back then.”

“You forgot asshole and dickhead,” she snaps, her eyes holding a world of hurt. She shakes her head, a sad smile playing on her lips. “You think standing up for me now will fix what happened between us? You think whoever it is willstop because you tell them to? This isn’t your fight, Owen.”

---