Page 31 of Past the Broken Bridges

Sawyer smiles at me, her eyes dipping down to the sketch pad beside me. “Are you really broody, or is it the tortured artist in you?”

It takes everything in me not to smirk. “Who says I’m tortured, Birdie?”

Her answer is quick. Smooth. “Your eyes.”

One of my brows raises again at the response.

Lucy stares between us curiously. “Doyoutwo know each other?”

Sawyer tucks her Pop-Tart into the back pocket of her jeans and smiles at Lucy. “I moved in across the hall from him.”

My coworker’s eyes land on me, but I choose to ignore them. “Interesting,” she says, a secretive smile tilting her lips.

I roll my eyes at them. “Not really.” Going back to my sketch pad, I say, “Enjoy your flavored cardboard.”

Sawyer laughs. “I will.” Before she leaves, she notices the open package of fruit snacks on the counter by my set of pencils. Her smile is small, amused. “Guess you do have a comfort food after all.”

I glance down at the food I’ve been picking at, which tastes like my childhood. “Who doesn’t like fruit snacks?”

She shrugs. “Heathens, probably.”

I chuckle.

Sawyer waves me off. “Bye, Lucy,” she calls out.

I can feel Lucy’s eyes on me when it’s just us. “What?” I ask.

“She says it reminds her of home.”

I look up. “What does?”

“The Pop-Tarts.”

I blink.

Lucy looks at the closed doors. “I can’t tell if that’s sweet or sad if that’s all she has to remind her.”

Thinking about it, I follow her gaze to where the blond disappears down the sidewalk. “Sweet,” I go with before returning to my project.

If something as small as a childhood treat can make her think of home, she must have a lot of love that she left behind.

I can’t think of one thing I miss that I’d want to keep around to remember.

It’s hard to ignore my former fling’s gaze. “Is there a reason you’re staring?” I ask, still focusing on my sketch.

Lucy waits a moment, her eyes going to my lip before moving away. “No. No reason.”

I don’t call bullshit because once I see that grin on her face, I decide I don’t want to know what she’s thinking.

She starts humming, going back to the project she was working on before Sawyer sauntered in.

I can’t help but glance at the door and then at the empty box of Pop-Tarts Lucy tosses on the floor to be thrown away.

Before she can catch me staring at them, I force my eyes back to my work with nothing but Lucy’s humming filling the silence.

Chapter Eleven

Banks

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