Page 52 of When We Were Reckless
He nodded and took another bite of his sandwich. A slice of tomato fell onto his plate. “What are you reading?” He jerked his chin at the paperback next to me.
I held it up so he could see the cover. “It’s calledBonjour Tristesse.”
His brows shot up. “You’re reading in French?”
I laughed softly. “No. It’s in English. The author was only eighteen when it was published, and it’s so good,” I said with a wistful sigh as I set the book next to my plate.
“Pretty sure S.E. Hinton was only sixteen when she wroteThe Outsiders.”
I tried to hide my surprise that he knew that, but I must have failed because he laughed. “Yeah. I’m not much of a reader. But that book…” He shrugged one shoulder. “It wasn’t total shit.”
By saying it wasn’t total shit, I got the feeling he meant that it was pretty great.
“Evie thought so too. In fact, it’s her favorite book.”
She’d started reading it when I was recuperating from my kidney transplant. She’d loved it so much that I tracked down a signed limited-edition copy and gave it to her for her eighteenth birthday.
The part that had resonated with her, though, was the famous quote: ‘Nothing gold can stay.’
I should have expected that, but it still made me sad.
Ridge gave me a crooked grin that was disarmingly boyish. “Yeah, I know. She loves that book.”
And then it hit me. Ridge’s nickname for Evie was Cherry. Cherry and Dallas. They both lovedThe Outsiders. They came from similar worlds. They belonged together. How much more perfect could they be for each other?
Ridge took another huge bite of his sandwich, completely oblivious to the fact that I was plotting out his future with my best friend.
“Shit. This is good. Best fucking BLT I ever ate.”
“Declan would be thrilled to hear it. He bakes his own bread. The mayo is homemade. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he slaughtered the pig himself.” When I’d gone into the kitchen to get my hummus, he’d been slow-roasting pork belly for tonight’s special and making ‘country pâté’ out of pork. He’d tried to get me to sample it so I could answer customers’ questions, but no thanks. When I said it looked and smelled like dog food, he’d kicked me out of the kitchen.
“He uses every single bit of the pig from nose to tail.” I pulled a face because that was just gross.
“A vegetarian’s nightmare,” Jesse said, taking a seat next to me.
I side-eyed him. Since when did he come to work early? My gaze dipped to the plate he set on the table in front of him. Goat’s cheese salad with mixed greens.
“What are you doing here so early?” I blurted. So much for playing it cool and ignoring him. Which I’d been trying to do for the past week, after deciding that Evie’s advice was good. Not to mention what I’d seen on Alessia’s Instagram that I’d had no business stalking.
“It’s the only way I get to see you.” His voice was so low I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. More head games. Great. Just what I needed.
I wasn’t even going to analyze or dissect his words. Nope. Not going there.
I looked across the table at Ridge, but he was too busy eating to pay us any attention. He finished his sandwich in two more bites and pushed back his chair, his eyes on me as he stood up. “If you need a ride to Walker’s party, let me know.”
I opened my mouth to ask him what he was talking about but shut it when he winked at me. Like we were in on a secret.
Was he doing this on purpose? Trying to make Jesse jealous? Had Ridge noticed that something was going on with Jesse and me?
“Catch you later, bro,” Ridge told Jesse before he swaggered away, chuckling under his breath.
Was it obvious to everyone? My gaze drifted to Mason behind the bar, talking to a customer. He caught me watching and smiled at me before he went back to his conversation, not the least bit suspicious that Jesse was sitting right next to me.
Probably because nothing was going on with Jesse and me, except in my overactive imagination. Oh yeah, and the time I got myself off at the waterfall while he hadn’t even been an active participant. Thinking about it now made me cringe.
“How’s that story coming along?” Jesse asked.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Yet another humiliation to endure. Why had I told him about the story I was writing? “Fine.”
