Page 2 of Blurred Love

“Yeah, I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

She waves me off. “Don’t apologize. Your friend reminds me of my sister, Cassie. And just so you know, my sister is usually right.” She smiles and gives me a wave. “Let me know if your schedule opens up any.”

I wave with a big dumb smile on my face because I’m not sure what to say. I’m pretty sure Brooklyn just told me I needed to go get laid.

“So who is it?”

As soon as Brooklyn walks away, Teresa is back in the truck by my side. “Really, you just left? Drop a bombshell about me”—I lower my voice to a whisper—“‘getting laid,’ and then walk off so I can deal with the aftermath.”

Teresa snorts. “It’s fine. She was laughing when she walked away, it’s all good. Now which guy? Is he still here?”

She gestures wildly with her head toward the picnic tables. I’m surprised to see some people have left, but the one man still remains, staring at me.

“Forget it,” I tell her.

She shakes her head. “Oh no, you can’t do that. You can’t bring it up that you’re interested in a guy and then drop it.”

I pick up a dish towel and throw it to her. “Start cleaning up. I’m going to let people know we’re closing up in thirty minutes if they want anything before we go.”

Teresa rolls her eyes at me, but I just laugh and walk out of the truck. I stop at the first table. “Hey guys, I just wanted to let you know we’re closing up in thirty minutes in case you want to get anything to go.”

They nod their thanks, and I move to the next table of women and repeat my speech.

One woman bolts up. “Ooooh, thank you. I wanted to get some cupcakes to take home for my family.”

I tell her the selection we have left, and as she walks up to the truck, I go to the next table. I’m getting closer to the man in the back, and I can feel my blood pressure rising. He’s openly glaring at me, and in my head, I’m imagining everything he’s thinking.

“A fat girl working at a dessert truck.”

“Do you make any money or eat all the profits?”

“You really shouldn’t be surrounded by all that food because you don’t have the willpower not to eat it.”

Everything Adam said to me when he found out I was going to start working at the Glaze Bakery Food Truck crosses my mind. I was so excited to get the job, and he ruined it for me. I almost turned down the job offer until I came to my senses. I grew up making pastries with my grandma, and it’s something I love to do. Plus, instead of being cooped up inside all day, I get to travel around and meet new people. And let’s face it, almost all our customers are happy to see us. So I got rid of the boyfriend instead of the job.

But seeing the strange man glowering at me reminds me of everything that my ex said. I clench my hands into fists and mentally prepare myself for when I get to his table because I’m over men treating me like shit and getting away with it. Like Brooklyn said, I’m done letting men treat me as if I’m less than.

CHAPTER2

COLTER

Today is the day.

I’m going to talk to her.

I practiced in front of the mirror all last night and this morning, and I was able to get through it without stuttering.

I’ve sat here for the last two hours with my laptop open and haven’t done a bit of work. Hell, I haven’t even looked at my screen because I’ve been too busy watching Poppy. I only know her name because I heard the other woman call her that a few times.

The truck has only been coming to the Rehab Center for a few weeks. I never pay attention to the food trucks or make it a point to visit them, but I was walking by that day and saw Poppy, and it was over with. I sat down at the same table I’m sitting at now and stared at her the whole time the truck was parked here. She is beautiful. I’m assuming her hair is long, but she wears it in a bun at the top of her head. She has big blue eyes and an infectious smile. Hell, she even makes me want to smile, and that's something I haven’t done in a long time.

I watch her make her way through the tables, stopping and chatting with each one, and my heart starts to race because I know she’s going to stop at my table too. Everything inside of me is screaming that I should get up and walk away while I still can, but I stay rooted to my spot, unable to move.

My throat feels as if it’s closing up.

I’m sweating even though it’s only seventy degrees.

And I swear it feels as if my heart is going to pound right out of my chest.

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