Page 72 of Can't Kiss the Chef

“Okay, I’m gonna run in and get the coffee, then I’ll come back and walk Mia around so she can go to the bathroom.”

“I can take Mia on a walk.” Her voice is shaky as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes.

I try to read her facial expression. I don’t want her doing this just because she feels like she has to.

“I want to do this, Byron. It’ll be good to stretch my legs before we get back on the road.”

This weekend she can do whatever she wants and anyone who tries and stops her will have to deal with me.

The coffee shop is small, and locally owned, with an extensive pastry display. Now, the problem with this is that Lola loves everything, and they have everything. So I get a few of everything, thankful that we are going to be around all our friends this weekend and the guys are human garbage disposals.

Ten minutes later I’ve secured all the sweets and caffeine that Lola will ever need.

I slide the pastry box on the driver’s seat. I was sure Lola and Mia would already be back. I calmly take in my surroundings,they couldn’t have gotten that far. Panic sets in when I realize she isn’t within my eye view.

Benches, I think I saw benches in the front of the building when I pulled in.

I turn the corner, and my heart rate steadies. Then it sinks when I watch her wipe tears from her cheeks with her phone perched between her ear and shoulder.

Mia climbs up Lola’s chest resting her paws on Lola’s shoulders, licking away her tears. For the first time since we left Hamiton, I see Lola smile.

Lola doesn’t notice me until I take the open seat on the wooden bench.

“Hey Oliver, I got to go. Byron just got out of the coffee shop,” she nods as her brother says something I can’t hear on the other end.

“Thanks, Ollie, I know. Yeah, I’m happy to be away this weekend. Please don’t tell Mom and Dad. I don’t even know if they knew I had a boyfriend. So why give them another reason to be upset with me.”

She pauses as her brother must tell her that her parents love her no matter what because her reply is a melancholy, “I know they love me. They just don’t understand me.”

My instincts say to wrap Lola in a hug and remind her that I understand her. Instead I hike my thumb back towards the car, “I bought a few of every sweet thing they offered so we can eat to our hearts desire.”

“Honestly, that’s just what I needed to hear.”

Lola is working on a cheese danish while I’m on my second donut when she turns down the rap music.

“How did you get that video?”

I pause. I hate that I can’t tell her exactly how this all started, but she deserves everything I know.

“I got it sent to me from someone I played junior hockey with. I don’t know how he got the video.”

“So everyone’s seen it?”

Honestly all she wants is honesty.

“I think it’s kind of been shared around the college hockey world,” I quickly add. “I don’t think anyone knew he had a girlfriend.”

“Oh, that makes this whole situation better.” She put her face in her hands, shaking it back and forth.

“I’m just being honest with you, Lola. I told you he was a douche bag and he showed you that. Feel what you need to feel while in this car, but when we get to New York, we are going to celebrate with our friends and have fun.”

“And get drunk.”

It’s the first joke she’s cracked since we got in the car, and I love that the girl I care so much about is making an appearance.

“Oh, there will be plenty of alcohol.”

The sun shining over the Hudson Valley has helped turn this drive a complete one hundred and eighty degrees from when I found Lola crying. Free from talk of past boyfriends or family drama. It’s easy and fun and reminds me of why she is worth fighting for.

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