Page 23 of Under Pink Skies

But this . . . this was a far more incredible sight than my brain could process. Gone was the childlike roundness of his face. He stood taller, more confident. Gone was the boyish grin and slight awkwardness. The man that stood in front of me knew who he was, and what he wanted.

And yet, he was still the same grumpy, scowling boy I once befriended. I pictured those small smiles reserved only for me, the delicate moments in between heartbeats where he looked at me as if I was the sun he revolved around.

My cheeks flushed as our gazes met, and I quickly averted my eyes. I really needed Kevin to check the A.C., because it was damned hot in here. The wave of nostalgia threatened to drown me.

“We’re going to be working together for the next several weeks,” Connor said. “It’s going to get weird if I can’t call you by your name.”

I heaved out a frustrated sigh, putting my hands on my hips.

“It’s already weird, Connor,” I said. “But you have a point. I’ll give you permission to use my name.”

Way to take a weird situation and make it even worse, Abs!

I wanted to groan and possibly smash my face into a wall somewhere to hide from the feelings of this moment.

Connor’s lip lifted in a small smile. “Bossy.”

My jaw hinged open even as I felt my flush returning. Connor’s eyes widened, as if even he couldn’t believe he just said that.

I would not survive this.

I had half a mind to call Trent back and demand to know why in the hell he’d accepted sponsorship from anyone affiliated with Connor Harvey, but that idea quickly faded when I realized that doing so would mean I’d have to acknowledge that Connor’s presence here was a problem for me.

And I was determined not to let it be a problem.

So, we were in love when we were seventeen. So, just three weeks after my mom’s funeral, he left me. So, I had no idea where the hell he’d been the last five years, or who he’d been with.

None of that mattered. I needed the money the festival would pull in. Watford needed this opportunity to put ourselves back on the map. I could put my messy personal feelings in a trunk and lock it up for the next two months. Five years was a long time to be parted from someone. I certainly wasn’t the same person I was at eighteen.

I had nothing further to say to him today. I didn’t need anything from him. Period.

My brain was a swirling mess of emotions and thoughts. Imogen was going to have a fit when I told her about this.

Connor turned on his heel, regarded the barer-than-usual aisles of Watford General, and grabbed one of the wire baskets of the end cap of aisle two.

“Connor?” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose and scrunching my face up. I needed him to leave so that this choking tightness in my chest would ease.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Buying groceries?” He shifted uncomfortably onto his right foot. “I know you mentioned you were closed, but we just got into town this afternoon, and . . . well, I know Lucas and I could eat at the diner, but I’m not ready to see anyone else. I was planning to cook at the cabin for the next few days.”

I’m not ready to see anyone else.

His words ignited something in me. Anyone else . . . meaning he had come here first? To Watford General? Hoping I would be here?

I had to be reading into his words. I was twisting them to fit my heartache, to soothe the wounds that were clearly still open. My gut twisted with longing and dread as the reality of the situation sunk its claws into me.

My hands trembled as I gestured to the refrigerators lining the far wall.

“Of course,” I said, my voice thick with unshed tears. “Grab whatever you need.”

Connor nodded, disappearing behind aisle one. I heard the distinct squeak of the fridge opening and then closing. Connor reappeared, carrying with him a pack of ground beef, a carton of eggs, a small jar of milk, a block of cheese, and to my eternal surprise, a bag of frozen broccoli. He laid them out gently on the counter as I logged back into my merchant system, booting up the scanner.

“Vegetables, huh?”

Connor’s eyes shot to mine as I scanned the carton of eggs.

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