“Really?” Satisfaction pulled at him.
“Yeah.” Her smile was soft, and he thought some of that understanding they used to share was still there. And it reminded him that maybe he wasn’t fully gone. That maybe he could find his way back.
“What do I owe you?” he asked, digging into his back pocket for his wallet.
She bit down on her lip and pushed the box toward him, her words a whisper, “Love is on the house.”
He kept seeing her after that.
By mistake or on purpose, he wasn’t sure.
He just…wasn’t hiding the way he usually did. He was coming out in the light of day, and he wasn’t fucked up as much because the last thing he wanted was for her to see him in that state.
He’d hung out with Cody and Ezra a couple of times, too.
Normal.
Like old friends.
Close to the way they used to be, but a discomfort remained, like they didn’t quite know what to say to each other.
Or maybe they just didn’t fully trust him.
It wasn’t like he could blame them.
He was still in deep, chained, even though there was no chance that they knew the circumstances or the depth. He figured they could just feel the slime radiating off him, the corruption seeping from his pores.
But he didn’t feel it so much as he entered that tiny bakery on the corner, the scent of sugar and vanilla smacking him in the face.
Or maybe it was the way his stomach tightened a fraction when he found Dakota on the other side of the counter, smiling back. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?” she teased. Easy the way she’d become. The way they used to be.
“I was just passing by and smelled something good.”
“Just passing by, huh?”
He shrugged, all nonchalant as he strolled in deeper. “It is a small town.”
“Not that small of a town.” A smirk hinted at the edge of her mouth, and he couldn’t help but let go of a full one, and he pulled the big gift bag out from behind his back and set it on the counter. “I heard it’s someone’s birthday.”
Surprise jutted across her face, and redness splashed her cheeks. “You remembered.”
“Of course, I remembered, Dakota. How could I forget about you?”
Except for all those years that he had.
Guilt clawed at his throat, and fuck, he wished he could take it back.
She stared across at him. There was something new that hummed in the familiarity. An energy that buzzed. Or maybe it was just the faint flickering of joy that had started to shimmer inside him. Something that had been missing for so long that now it felt foreign.
“Are you going to open it, or what?” he pressed, nudging the bag her direction.
She exhaled before she grinned and rushed to toss out the tissue paper, then a frown was forming on her brow when she pulled out what was tucked inside.
It was a metal box, twelve by eight inches and four inches deep. The lid was engraved, the nickname he’d given her years ago carved deep into the metal.
Cookie.
“What’s this?” she asked, her breath short.
Ryder roughed a hand down the back of his neck, trying not to itch in discomfort. “I made it.”
That line between her eyes deepened. “Made it?”
He shrugged even though he felt like he might come out of his skin. “I’ve been playing around with welding and shit. I don’t know…it’s dumb…but I thought you could put your recipes in it or something.”
He looked to his boots because fuck, this was stupid, putting himself out there like this. He had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it or what made him think he had the right, but all those questions were getting crushed when her soft voice hit the air. “It’s not stupid, Ryder. It’s the most thoughtful, beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. I love it.”
He looked back at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s good then.”
He jolted when the bell dinged over the door, and he twisted to find some douche sauntering in, arrogance riding out on his weaselly smirk.
Dakota startled, and she cleared her throat and tucked a piece of shiny brown hair behind her ear. “Seaton, hey.”
“What’s up, Dakota?” The asshole cut Ryder a sneer as he passed before he returned his focus on Dakota. “Picking you up at seven on Saturday. Make sure you’re ready and wear something hot.”
Was he serious?
Ryder had the urge to reach out and throttle this punk.
But he had no right to do that, either. No reason to get in the way if hanging out with this asshole was what she wanted, though he was sure Dakota could do a million times better than him.