Page 6 of Rookie's Redemption
"You look like hell," Sophia says, examining me over the rim of her mug.
"Thanks. That's exactly the look I was going for today."
Natalie laughs and slides a plate with half a chocolate croissant toward me. "Eat this. It'll help with whatever..." she waves her hand vaguely at my entire existence, "...this is."
"This is what happens when you run a shelter single-handedly and have to chase wildlife at dawn," I grumble, but I take the pastry anyway. Free food is free food.
Emma appears with my coffee—black, no sugar, strong enough to raise the dead—and sets it down with a smirk.
"So," she says, perching on the arm of my chair. "Have you seen him yet?"
I freeze mid-sip. "Seen who?"
All three of them stare at me with identical expressions of disbelief.
"Really?" Natalie says. "We're going to play this game?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter into my mug.
"Ryder Scott," Sophia says, cutting through my bullshit with the two words that. "Your high school sweetheart. The one that Blake says won't stop talking about you in the locker room beforeandafter every practice."
"I hate this town," I groan, sinking deeper into my chair.
"No, you don't," Natalie says. "You love it here. That's why you stayed when he left."
"So?" Emma presses, leaning forward with that gleam in her eye that means she's about to meddle in my love life. "How has it been seeing him again? Did you talk? Did he apologize for being an absolute idiot eight years ago?"
"Emma!" I hiss, glancing around to make sure no one's listening. "Can you not broadcast my personal life to the entire café?"
"Oh please, everyone already knows," she waves dismissively. "Now spill."
I take another long sip of coffee, buying myself time. "There's nothing to spill. He showed up with muffins from his mom. We talked about a dog. He left. End of story."
"Muffins?" Sophia perks up, eyes narrowing. "What kind?"
"Why does that matter?"
"It absolutely matters," Natalie insists.
I sigh. "Lemon blueberry."
All three of them exchange loaded glances.
"What?" I demand.
"Sunday muffins," Emma says softly.
My throat tightens. Of course they remember. Everyone in this damn town remembers everything.
"This isn't about him," I snap, more harshly than intended. "This is about caffeine and getting through the damn day."
Emma reaches over to squeeze my hand. "Honey, it's always been about him."
"I need another coffee," I mutter, standing abruptly. "And a muffin.To go,please."
"For yourself?" Sophia asks innocently, batting those dark long lashes at me.
"Yes. It's for a volunteer I've got to help out today," I say, knowing they can see right through me and lying definitely won't work this time.
