Page 25 of The One I Left Behind

“Okay.”

“And not a full meal. Coffee?”

“How about breakfast tomorrow? We can go to The Stack, and you can have all the cinnamon rolls you want.”

I haven’t been there since he left town. It was one of our last meals together before he got in his dad’s truck for the airport.

“I’m not sure.” There are way too many memories there, but the idea of those cinnamon rolls makes my mouth water. “Fine.”

“Great. Do you still live at your dad’s house?”

I’m jolted by his question. It feels weird that he doesn’t know where I live—someone who used to know everything about me. I didn’t even think about it until just now, how far removed he’s been from my life. I should’ve moved on by now, and it’s high time I did. I can handle a breakfast with Ben Noughton. And then I can finally move on.

“No. I live on Chesterfield. Eleven ten.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up.” He drops some cash on the counter, picks up the box, and shoots me one of his smiles. The one I’d see in all his endorsements. The one that tugs at my heart.

“Actually, I’ll meet you there.”

He stops, the door halfway open. Tourists who travel in on the weekends meander on the sidewalk. At least they don’t know who he is to me. “Why?”

How can he even ask that question? Because I don’t want to sit in the cab of a truck a few feet away from him. I don’t want the memories that prick me when they surface to feel too real. “Because we shouldn’t be seen together.”

It’s not the best lie, but there is a sliver of truth there. If we’re seen, the rumors will ignite into an inferno.

“I’ll handle that.”

“But—”

“Please, Gillian. I’m only asking for one breakfast and a twenty-minute drive each way. I know I don’t deserve it, and I shouldn’t push this, but…” He glances down and lifts his gaze back up to me. “After this, I’ll leave you alone. Hell, I’ll leave town if you want me to.”

He’s pulling on my soft side, and damn it, I’m going to let him. But maybe since this could be our last time together, I’ll torture myself one more time. “Fine, but don’t be late. And if word gets out?—”

“It won’t.”

“Fine.”

His smile could light up UNL’s Memorial Stadium, and I hate that a piece of me loves that I made him happy. “See you tomorrow.”

Ben walks out, and I slump over on the counter.

“Did you really just agree to breakfast? What happened to you calling him Noughton and giving him the cold shoulder?” Laurel laughs as if it were comical that I even tried to resist him.

“Turns out the fourth time seeing him, I can’t keep up my front. How will I get through an entire breakfast?”

“Eat fast?”

“Laurel…” I sigh.

“It was inevitable. Have the conversation, get it over with, and move on.” She returns to the back.

“I need to borrow that obnoxious sun hat you bought in Jamaica two years ago.”

“Then you’ll just draw more attention to yourself!” she shouts from the back.

She has a point. Even if I wore my cowgirl hat, I’d have to take it off when we got inside the restaurant. Maybe Lincoln was the better option, but I don’t want to spend that much time with him in the truck.

But Laurel’s right. I have to stop dodging him and face this head-on. Surely we’ve moved on in fourteen years. There’s no way that what I still feel for Ben is anything other than the nostalgic remnants of first love. Once we talk and get the past all out on the table, the unrest chaos inside of me will calm.

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