Page 32 of I Love a Good Challenge

Lily isn’t moving. Her legs stretch in front of her, the tips of her toes pointing toward the ceiling. She is collapsed back like her defense of me took all her energy. It probably did.

“Thank you,” I manage without fully looking at her. My dimming resolve and the emotion of it all are too much for me to also feel compelled to give in to my need to care for her.

“If anyone should be run out of this town based on the evidence presented tonight, you know it should be me. You don’t want me to explain, and you don’t want to do this again, but . . .”

She stands abruptly and starts to gather her purse and the pastry box. The box has a thumb length of chocolate icing smeared across the top, no doubt from her rushing to put the cupcakes into the box. For some reason, this makes me grin, even when I know I shouldn’t.

“You’re a good man, George. You always were.” And with the second confession she’s given me this week, Lily vanishes into the night, leaving me sitting with the half-eaten cupcake still in my hand and a trail of crumbs beside me.

Chapter Twelve

Lily

The smell of fried spring rolls hits my nose with a tantalizing burst of toasty fragrance when I’m still a few doorways away from my destination. I’ve been dreaming of eating at Amara’s Sunshine Thai Kitchen for days. Sparrow’s Beret is closed for the afternoon, and it feels like the perfect time to satisfy this craving, especially after feeling as if I’ve been struck by a hangover that has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with hoping too much lately.

Determined to fully appreciate this moment to myself and regain a sense of normalcy, I reach for the door handle and swing it open to receive an immediate assault on my senses. I’m greeted with smiles from the owners and their family members. The sound of food being cooked in scalding hot woks hits my ears all the way from the kitchen. The comfort of spices, chilis, and lemongrass mingles in the air. The sight of Graham sitting in the corner feels like a relief until it hits me that he isn’t supposed to be there. Clarification: His handsome figure is currently occupying my booth like he plans to eat dinner there.

As if my presence triggers a silent alarm, Graham’s eyes lift to meet mine. I feel the frustrated growl tickle the back of my throat. My body and mind are immediately in conflict. The soles of my shoes cement themselves to the floor while my heart tries to rush me forward. I look like I have stopped mid-motion, a freeze frame of a reel I must’ve seen before.

Narrowing my eyes, I will my body to move and finally get my feet to walk. Graham stiffens at my approach, his tall frame pressing his spine farther into the back of the booth. If he felt relaxed before, he certainly isn’t now.

“This is my booth,” I say sharply and without greeting. I hover near the edge of the table. I’m not proud of the catch in my voice at the start of my announcement, but here we are. If we have any chance of being normal with each other again—especially after that nightmare of a town meeting—then we need to get back to fighting. Pretending to be at odds is the only way to protect my heart and avoid crushing him again, especially with all the confessions I seem to be making of late.

His eyebrow lifts. He searches around the booth as if looking for something he can’t quite seem to find.

“Funny. I don’t see your name on it.” Graham has the audacity to grin as he locks gazes with me again. Suddenly, we’re in a stare down. “Good to see you again so soon, Lily.”

I wish that I didn’t love the way his eyes flash with a hint of the playfulness of old or the way that I can’t quite articulate why, but it feels like a win every single time I catch him off guard.

When we first met, it was like I had an X-ray machine to see right through him. Despite our breakup, this superpower has never left me. Even in the subtlest of ways, I can still tell which remarks hit his composure at its core. It serves him right for knowing the same about me.

The worst part of running into Graham all over town is that he’s still infuriatingly handsome. How I will ever get through the wedding is still a mystery to me.

“Is this now a table for two?” Amara’s sweet voice breaks the spell of Graham’s staring contest.

He looks between us, his attempt to look casual thwarted by the shake of his hand as he adjusts the silverware. “It seems that I’ve taken her booth.”

Amara’s eyes widen as she looks between us. She is the daughter of the couple who own this restaurant. I remember attending her first birthday party. Fast forward to now. She’s been away at college but just recently decided to come back to Birch Borough. I’ve missed her.

Crossing my arms, I give her a smile that sets her at ease.

“Ah, yes. This is her booth.”

I stifle a laugh as Graham’s eyes widen. Without making eye contact, he shifts to the edge of the seat before I feel a crack in my heart. Because this is Graham. He fights for what he wants. I may have teased him about not playing fair, but when it comes down to it, he is fair in every way. Of course, he will move if he thinks he’s in the wrong. Even when things inconvenience him, if it doesn’t hurt him, he does the right thing. And he does it willingly.

“Stop,” I insist.

Graham awkwardly shifts forward then leans back. His hands brace on the table to leverage him up in the uncomfortable position.

“Sit, George,” I continue with a grin. “We’re adults.”

Cautiously, he looks at me. His eyes shift to Amara, who gives him a nod.

“Besides,” I continue, “it’s not like we’ve never shared a meal before.”

At this, his eyes flash, and I know the exact memory he’s thinking of . . . the one in which we got takeout from an Italian restaurant in LA and tried to recreate the scene from Lady & The Tramp. Let’s just say we didn’t end up eating much pasta. We gave it a few tries, and then it turned out we were much more interested in sharing kisses than cold Italian food.

He clears his throat. I was right. Got him.

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