Page 45 of Falling for You

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CHAPTER 11

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It had been a weeksince Eric’s text. Seven days of CeCe jumping every time she heard her phone ping or buzz. Seven days of lying to Evan, of feeling guilty as sin. This secret weighed heavily in her core, pulling down on her until she felt she couldn’t stand up sometimes. But there had been wonderful moments with Evan too, ones she managed to enjoy without the guilt of her past—the guilt of her secrets.

Stolen kisses in the supply closet, meals made together in their home kitchens, and even an impromptu fort at Evan’s during a rainy evening. If only she could take her Eric baggage out of the equation, she’d feel like a million bucks. But she still didn’t know how to share the full story—the story of her greatest humiliation. She presented herself as a competent chef, a woman who knew her worth. Yet the story of her and Eric was written about another CeCe, a CeCe whom she didn’t recognize anymore.

And for all her desire to rewrite history, to write her own story, it was as if Evan had written his own book. The playbook on how to be a perfect boyfriend; attentive, caring, funny, and passionate. All the while she felt like she was writing the counterpart.How to be the worst girlfriend ever: A Memoir by CeCe LaRue.

CeCe kept her head down and muscled through the ball of bread dough in front of her. Yet again, sleep evaded her. So, she crept into the diner well before dawn to make bread. While all parts of baking excited her, thrilled her, it was bread baking that was the most therapeutic. No matter her mood, she’d lose herself in the turns and rolling of the dough.

Wiping the flour from her cheek, CeCe was too engrossed in the task at hand to hear the door open behind her. “Someone is up early today,” Evan said as he came up to her and looped his hands around her waist. He kissed the nape of her neck until she melted, like one of her famous chocolate lava cakes. When he kissed her like this, savored their closeness, she felt like he was charting out a route on a map. He knew the right places to make her melt.

“I’ll have to sneak out early more often if this is the reaction.” CeCe dusted the flour from her hands and turned around in Evan’s arms. It felt so natural to hold and kiss him in the diner. Having him close, in her favorite space no less, gave her a sense of contentment she didn’t realize she was missing. “What time is it anyway?” she asked, reluctantly stepping away to put the bread in the oven.

Evan hung his jacket on the wall and joined her at the prep station. “About six-thirty. Helen should be here any minute. She’ll likely bark orders for us to stay away from each other. Who knew someone could be so disgusted by love?”

The use of the L-word should have shocked CeCe, but she was too distracted.

“Love ... I don’t mind. It’s all the damn canoodling going on around here. I remember when everyone was single and kept their heads down. Now every time I come to work, I have to worry about seeing someone’s backside.” Helen rolled her eyes as she stalked past the pair, right into the dining room. “Try to keep it in your pants while I’m here, okay?”

As soon as the door closed, CeCe covered her mouth and burst out laughing. “I’m wondering if she’s walked in on Max and Ginny.”

Evan flinched but couldn’t fight his own smile. “I love them, but I gotta side with Helen. I don’t need to see anyone’s backside.”

CeCe cocked an eyebrow as Evan’s eyes dilated and he cupped her face. “Well, except maybe yours.” He kissed her gently for a moment before one of the oven timers went off. With a sigh, she walked over and removed another round of bread from the oven.

Evan drooled as he poked one of the loaves with his index finger. “Is this your sweet sourdough?”

“It is. I haven’t made it in a while. Takes a little time, so I ...” Her explanation died on her lips as she saw Evan’s face sag. “What’s wrong?” She reached out and touched his arm. His jaw was tight and his eyes pinched. The lust from a moment ago had faded into his deep blue pools. “Evan?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, he asked, “What’s going on?”

CeCe shook her head, clearly not following the discussion. “Nothing. What do you mean?”

“That bread takes nearly four hours to make, and it’s not even opening time.”

Still missing the point, she tossed her towel over her shoulder. “Yeah, and?”

“And that means you’ve been here since two in the morning. When I stopped by yesterday, you were half asleep on the couch. Are you not sleeping? Is everything okay?”

Blood rushed to her cheeks as she absorbed Evan’s concern. More importantly, what he’d noticed. For years, she didn’t have anyone paying close attention to her moods or schedule. Now she had someone in her life that worried about her, wanted to take care of her. Someone who noticed the bags under her eyes and her early hours. This should have made her feel like a million bucks, but it only made her feel worse—much worse.

“It’s nothing. Really. I’ve got a lot going on with the competition. I know I need to take better care of myself.”

Evan reached out, letting his finger trail down her cheek and neck until his hand rested on her shoulder. He gave her a gentle squeeze and waited while she caught her breath. That was the thing about Evan, when he paid attention, he could see clear down to her soul. If he could, he wouldn’t like what he saw. He’d find weakness, he’d find a fool.

During moments like these, she felt the difference in their ages, felt the naivety that came with your mid-twenties. Evan hadn’t gone through a relationship like she’d had with Eric. Evan looked at her now like a man who’d never had his heart broken. This look lit a fire inside her, making her hot with worry. She held the power to crush his heart in her floured hands, and it took her breath away.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded, pulling her to his chest and cradling her cheek against his hand.

It would be so easy for her to unload, to share her concerns over Eric, her fears that she wasn’t good enough, the nagging voice in the back of her head that said she was too old for Evan. That she was too complicated. Instead, she went with what needed to be said in the moment, because she wasn’t about to pour her heart out before the breakfast rush surrounded by canisters of flour and sugar. “I’m just tired. I don’t know if you know this, but I have this new boyfriend. We keep staying up too late, and I need my beauty sleep.”

Blinking, CeCe breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded and kissed her cheek. “If I’m keeping you up too late, say the word. I should probably focus on the rest of the website for the boutique anyway. But I can’t seem to stay away from you.”

Before CeCe could come up with a witty reply, the back door slammed as Max walked in. His dark hair was mussed and his shirt was buttoned incorrectly. She’d hazard a guess that Ginny was in a similar state of frazzled undress.

“Morning,” CeCe chirped.