Page 44 of How to Break My Heart 1
I imaginedhimfor the very first time.
Big fucking rookie mistake.
CHAPTER 13
Eva
Iwake at stupid o’clock.
I lie in bed beneath the warm comforter, staring at the ceiling in the dark, fidgeting with the bedsheet while trying to find some excuse to get out of seeing Aston today. Every few minutes, I turn my head to look at the clock, only to spiral even further.
Sweet dreams, Everleigh. If you need inspiration tonight, I finished twice in the shower after you left. It’s a shame you couldn’t join me.His voice replays in my head, causing me to groan loudly in frustration. I throw the comforter over my head, desperate to drown out his voice and the anxiety of having to face him this morning. We never agreed on a place, only a time, but then my phone pings with a text message at the same time as the sun begins to rise.
Aston
See you at nine at the café. I promise to show up this time.
I contemplate a thumbs-up but decide against it. I make myself an extra-strong coffee, double the shot, then continue reading my book. The scene turns spicy when the billionaire takes her on the desk and commands her to look him in the eye while they’re screwing. I’m living for the fact that he’s in love with her and she’s playing hard to get.
The familiar warmth spreads between my thighs, so I put the book down with a huff. The last thing I need is to be physically charged in Aston’s presence.
As much as I need a cold shower to bring my body back to reality, outside, the weather is anything but warm. It feels like another cold front hit overnight, and the last thing I want is to get sick before the wedding.
Billie is already downstairs baking, and the smell of vanilla fills the café. Every morning, when I step inside the quiet space before customers arrive, I take a moment to relish it all. The scent of freshly made donuts mixed with coffee brewing is like heaven on earth, and there’s nothing in the world I want more than to be here in my happy place.
Sometimes, I think about expanding and opening another store, but nerves get the better of me. What if it fails? What if I throw all my money into my business and end up without any to put a roof over my head? Let alone restore my dream house.
Argh, the spiraling only adds to my mood. I purposely inhale again, desperate for the scent to ignite my happy senses. But this morning, I feel like a truck has run over me.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Billie greets me with a lopsided grin. “You look—”
“Tired?” I sigh while scrubbing my hands under the faucet. With my elbow, I knock the paper towel dispenser to dry my hands, and put on disposable gloves so I can help Billie with the toppings. I get to work sprinkling chocolate flakes on the fresh batch Billie retrieved from the fryer, which has already cooled down and been iced. “I had a date last night.”
Billie jerks her head back with an incredulous stare. “A date? Well, this explains why you’re tired.”
It takes me a moment to realize what she means. The coffee is clearly not working its magic just yet. I’m not usually one to drink more than two cups a day, but today might be different.
“Oh no,” I say, shaking my head. “It didn’t end up that way. I mean, we didn’t,you know.”
“So, this date was with who exactly?”
“Dr. Wilde…” I tell her, then quickly correct myself. “I mean, Marco.”
Billie whistles. “That escalated quickly.”
I pause my movements with chocolate still in my hands. “Do you think so? There’s no rule to say we can’t date. Well, there is, but I won’t be visiting him as my doctor anymore, so technically, he doesn’t doctor me or whatever. You know what I mean.”
“Yes, I know what you mean. He won’t lose his license if you’re not his patient.”
Billie slides another tray over to me. This batch is the pineapple donuts—my absolute favorite. The yellow glaze contains a small amount of pineapple juice, which gives it a sweet and tropical flavor. We added it to the menu only recently, after a customer from Australia mentioned them from her childhood. As soon as Billie heard the story, she started creating the amazing treat. There are never any left by the end of the day, making our pineapple donuts one of our bestsellers.
I suggested we use the extra dough to make mini balls as a take-out snack item. These are great for kids and the tourist crowd who use the town as a quick stopover on road trips. I even designed a to-go cup as a souvenir item. My idea was to give them a memento to remember us by, and hopefully, they’ll return or tell their friends.
“Anyway, the date kinda went well…” I trail off, unsure just how much information to reveal. “I haven’t heard from him since.”
“What do you mean ‘kinda went well’? And I don’t think him not texting you in, what”—she looks at her watch—“eight or ten hours is a problem.” Billie gasps, pointing her wooden spoon at me. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
