Page 59 of Friends That Heal Us
Last night while my mind went off, I just wanted to be near Ezra. Not sexually, even if my mind wandered that way from a simple kiss on my hand. I just needed his quiet comfort to melt into me. Lately, my feelings for him have been creeping back in, and it feels like we’re teenagers again. It all seems to be moving so fast, but maybe the truth is those feelings never left—I just pushed them down. My heart is so bruised right now, and I wonder if the comfort he gives is what’s slowly drawing me closer to him.
I stare back at him as I prepare a cortado. His back is to me as his gray shirt clings to his back muscles. The morning light shining through hits him perfectly. I stand there watching as he flips a pancake, mesmerized by him.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.
My head jerks back, breaking my gaze from him. “Um, yeah, did you?”
“Yeah.” He glances over his shoulder with a look that says he wants to say something but keeps it to himself before turning his attention back to the stove.
I finish both of our cortados just as he is setting our plates of breakfast on the table.
“You should teach me how to use that thing,” Ez says, giving a small chin nod toward something behind me.
I turn around, then back to him. “Teach you how to make an espresso?”
He nods, taking a sip of his coffee. “Buying coffee every day is expensive, and it’s not as good as this,” he says, raising his cup.
“Yeah, I can teach you. It’s easy.” I stab my fork into a fluffy scrambled egg. The first bite melts in my mouth, buttery and soft. “Are you going into work today?”
“Yeah. I am,” he says, shifting in his chair. “I’m trying to learn to pull back a little so I can have my guys learn on their own without me always hovering.”
“That’s good. You sound like a good boss. Do you think one day you’ll be able to have people run your shop without you having to go in?”
“That’s the plan.” He smirks, grabbing a piece of bacon.
“Was it hard finding employees? That’s the one thing I’m worried about.”
He exhales a small chuckle and shakes his head. “It was at first. My dad had to come in and help me for a while when I first opened it.”
“That’s nice of him.” I picture him and his dad working alongside each other. I remember when we were little, I would go over and find Ezra in the garage beside his dad, both greased up from their hard work. Those two always worked alongside each other. He had such great role models while growing up. No doubt the genuine softness he has comes from his parents.
He leans his elbow on the table. “Yeah, that was a hard time.”
“Why?”
“I was still working full time. My dad was slowly retiring and cutting back his hours, but instead, he came in to help me.”
Thinking back to what Ezra told me about having little support from anyone but his immediate family makes my stomach drop. “I wish I would’ve known. I could’ve helped you. Well, maybe not help with the cars.” I chuckle. “But I could have at least given you some encouraging words.”
His head tilts, studying me for a moment. “I know you would have. I’m glad it happened like this. It was hard, but it led me to where I am today.” He clears his throat. “So what are your plans with the bakery? Are you going to keep it how it is?”
I bite my lip nervously, because that’s one of the things that was on my mind so much last night. What am I going to do with the bakery? “I want to make it my own. I’m just nervous I might screw it up, but I’m planning on going there today and getting a feel for what I want to do with it.”
“Let me know, and I can help you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
VIOLET
After lookingat the bakery all morning, googling and Pinteresting ideas, I’m thinking of painting the whole inside beige and having violet accents. I want to buy small, round, off-white tables and have the chair cushions be violet. But before I make a final decision, I’m walking around a craft store to see what violet accents they have.
I step into an aisle with vases. My eyes roam over all of them until I spot dainty clear ones. I could buy these for the table centerpieces and put violet flowers in them. I love when establishments have real flowers out as decorations.
“Violet.”
My eyes snap up at the sound of her voice. My stomach drops and my chest tightens as I catch sight of her. “Hi,” I mumble.
Haley steps closer to me. “How are you?” she asks softly.
