Page 29 of The Coffee Bar on Camellia Court

"I don't hate you, Alex," she interrupted, sliding her cup to the side so she could rest her forearms on the table in front of her. "I don't know if I like you, exactly, but I don't hate you. I never have."

Alex grimaced. "Well, maybe you don't know me so well anymore. Maybe if you did know the real me, you'd think differently."

Juno narrowed her eyes at him. "And who is that? The real you?"

He opened and closed his mouth three times before he found any words, and even then, they weren't what he'd planned on saying. But once they started, it felt almost impossible to reel them back in. "For a long time after Jason died, I was just... surviving. Going through the motions. The drinking made it easier to pretend everything was fine."

"And the women?" The question wasn't accusatory, just curious.

Alex felt his face warm. "The women." He couldn't deny he had trouble there, too. "Yeah." He let out a snort of disgust; not at the ladies he'd entertained, but at himself for being that kind of guy. "I heard through the grapevine that you all are calling them my 'Summer Sizzlers,'" he said with a sheepish look.

A hint of a smile touched her lips. "You're welcome."

"You came up with that?" He dramatically pressed his hand to his chest. "Ouch."

She shrugged. "If the high heel fits…" She dipped her head toward his booted foot extending out from under the table. "Or the boot. By the way, where are your crutches?"

Alex waved a hand as if to swipe the question out of the air. "I got rid of them several days ago. And yes, I got the all-clear from the doctor." He reached down and rapped his knuckles against the hard plastic frame of the brace. "Just the boot now."

"Well, like I said, 'If the boot fits….'" But then she grew serious. "I don't get it."

Alex waited for her to continue. He didn't want to assume he knew where she was going and stick his booted foot into things. The rest of the conversation was going to be detrimental enough.

"How old are we now? Thirty? What's wrong with growing up? Settling down? I mean, why not make someone a happy woman? You'd have contenders lined up around the block, I'm sure. And I don't mean one of the Summer Sizzlers." She made a soft snorting sound. "I think you just date them because you know good and well that they won't be sticking around long enough for you to have to make a commitment."

For a moment, Alex felt utterly and completely seen. He started to deny it, to toss out a generic deflecting statement, but then stopped. Honesty. He needed to be real. That's what he wanted from Juno, wasn't it? And hadn't she been brutally honest with him? Finally, he nodded, and simply said, "It's easier. No expectations. No disappointments."

"Easier for who?" Juno challenged. "I've seen the way some of these women look at you, Alex. It's not easier for them that you aren't interested in anything more than a summer fling."

He scrubbed his hands through his hair again. This was the most uncomfortable conversation he'd had in a long time, and they were just scratching the surface of the really tough stuff. "You're right. Again. I've been selfish that way. They deserve better."

"But you don't think you deserve better."

The insight, so simple and so devastating, left him momentarily speechless. "How do you do that?" he asked finally. "How is it that you can see through me so easily?"

"Maybe because I've spent years doing the same thing in my own way," she finally admitted. "If we're talking about commitment issues and all." She dabbed at a crumb on the table and brushed it off onto her napkin. "I'm kind of a pro. Keeping everyone at arm's length. Not letting anyone get close enough to hurt me again. In particular, men. I don't have a great track record with the men in my life."

There was no cruelty in her voice, no judgement, either. The honesty of the moment felt fragile, precious. and suddenly, Alex was desperate not to lose it. They'd come so far in the past twelve hours. Surely it would be better to hold off on bringing Lena to the table, at least for now. Juno was talking about men like him. Like her father. Men she couldn't count on. He didn't want to be that anymore.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said, circling back around to the beginning of the conversation, silently berating himself for chickening out. "Breaking my sobriety was a breach of trust. To myself, to God, to you because you knew about it, and to my sobriety group."

"Will it cause trouble with your group?" she asked quietly. "I mean, I know they're supposed to be supportive and all, but judging happens, even when intentions are good."

Alex gave her a wry smile. "I'm not the first in that group to have to return their chips. They'll understand, but they'll also hold my booted toes to the fire." He grew serious. "I mean it, Juno. I'm sorry I let you down last night by being in the condition I was outside your door. It should have never happened."

"Well, thank you for saying as much," she said, nudging the platter of food closer to him. "Although we might not be having this conversation today if it hadn't. Now eat. One piece of toast isn't going to do a big lug like you much good. These are your favorite cinnamon streusel muffins. Or I can make you some eggs if you want protein."

The thought of eggs right then made his stomach clench, and he quickly scooped one of the muffins up and brought it to his nose to clear his thoughts of slimy eggs. He was certain Juno made them perfectly, not slimy at all, but just thinking about them…

Juno's phone pinged from her back pocket. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. "I have to get back downstairs," she told him as she got to her feet. "We're down one person today, and Poppy and Jared are trying to manage the morning rush on their own."

"Of course," he said, starting to rise, too.

"Sit, Alex," she commanded, then slid an empty chair around so he could prop his foot up on it. "And you should probably still be elevating that leg any chance you get, right?"

But Alex stood anyway. "I should get out of your way. I'll take a couple of these with me, if you don't mind," he said, indicating the tray of baked goods. "What do I owe you for them?"

Juno chuckled and batted the air between them. "Not a dime. They're day-olds, so they sit in the kitchen for staff to eat, and there's no way we are going to get through everything back there today. Tonight, they go in the trash, so take them all."

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