jumped at the sound of my voice. Seemed like she was a bit…distracted.
“I’m sorry?” she asked, taking a moment to clear her throat. My smile widened.
“Toasted marshmallow,” I repeated. “Seems to me to enjoy something like that, you have to be in touch with your inner child.”
“Right. Yes,” she said, still a little flustered. “I guess that makes sense.”
“You okay?” I asked, trying to stifle a chuckle.
“Yes,” she said, “I’m…I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and faced me with a polite smile. I instantly hated the sight of it.
“Come on,” I said, nudging her with my elbow. “You try. I’ll pick a flavor, and you tell me what type of person would choose that.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s ridiculous.”
“You could use a little bit of ridiculous.” She looked up at me, her sad blue eyes narrowed. “What about…” I looked over the flavors, trying to find one for her. “Creamy mint cookie?” I said, gesturing toward the sign.
She looked toward the machines and thought for a minute. “I don’t know,” she said. “Former Girl Scout.”
I frowned, not sure where she was going with that. “Girl Scout?”
“Yeah, you know thin mints, right?” she said. “Creamy mint cookie.”
She looked up at me, waiting for my approval. My heart clenched in my chest. I know that look. It’s the same one I’d seen in Emily’s eyes a million times when her insecurities would take over and the self-doubt took control. This was just a game. There wasn’t a right or wrong answer. It killed me that she thought she needed my approval.
I nodded, forcing a smile. Her face brightened since she’d achieved the approval she craved, and I winced. Fuck, seeing that look was eating me alive. Every instinct I had was screaming for me to pull her close and protect her. Tell her that she was enough, that she was worthy, anything to get rid of that look in her eyes.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat and folding my arms across my chest. “What flavor are you?”
She turned back toward the machines, pursing her lips while she thought. “I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think?”
I looked over the options and smiled when I found what I was looking for. “Maple bacon donut,” I said, confident in my choice.
“What?” she scoffed. “That sounds nothing like me.”
I laughed. “Sure it does. A little sweet, a little salty, with just the right amount of sass.”
She watched me closely for a moment then turned to face me, folding her arms across her chest and matching my stance. “So then, what about you?”
I took a step closer and shifted my weight, looking into her eyes to meet her challenge. “You tell me.”
She turned and searched the machines. A wicked grin spread across her face, and I ducked my head to hide my smile. I could practically see the smartass beginning to stir behind her eyes, and I was loving every minute of it. She was opening up again.
“French toast,” she said.
“French toast?”
“Yep.” Her smile was bright again. “French toast. It sounds good in theory, but you’ll probably end up regretting the decision later.”
I leaned in close to her, breathing in her sweet scent. “I can promise you would have no regrets.” Her eyes went wide, the creamy skin of her throat moving as she swallowed.
I smiled in victory about rattling her again and took a cup from the dispenser beside the machine, filling it half with maple bacon donut and half with French toast.
I turned back to her, her face twisted in disgust. I shrugged. “They go good together.”
I headed over to the register and dropped the cup on the scale.
“Five seventy-three,” the cashier said.
I nodded to Madison. “It’s on her.”
I grabbed the cup off the scale and turned back to where she stood, still gawking at me. I scooped a large bite of yogurt into my mouth. “Mm, so good,” I said “You should try it.” I gave her a wink and headed
“I’m sorry?” she asked, taking a moment to clear her throat. My smile widened.
“Toasted marshmallow,” I repeated. “Seems to me to enjoy something like that, you have to be in touch with your inner child.”
“Right. Yes,” she said, still a little flustered. “I guess that makes sense.”
“You okay?” I asked, trying to stifle a chuckle.
“Yes,” she said, “I’m…I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and faced me with a polite smile. I instantly hated the sight of it.
“Come on,” I said, nudging her with my elbow. “You try. I’ll pick a flavor, and you tell me what type of person would choose that.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s ridiculous.”
“You could use a little bit of ridiculous.” She looked up at me, her sad blue eyes narrowed. “What about…” I looked over the flavors, trying to find one for her. “Creamy mint cookie?” I said, gesturing toward the sign.
She looked toward the machines and thought for a minute. “I don’t know,” she said. “Former Girl Scout.”
I frowned, not sure where she was going with that. “Girl Scout?”
“Yeah, you know thin mints, right?” she said. “Creamy mint cookie.”
She looked up at me, waiting for my approval. My heart clenched in my chest. I know that look. It’s the same one I’d seen in Emily’s eyes a million times when her insecurities would take over and the self-doubt took control. This was just a game. There wasn’t a right or wrong answer. It killed me that she thought she needed my approval.
I nodded, forcing a smile. Her face brightened since she’d achieved the approval she craved, and I winced. Fuck, seeing that look was eating me alive. Every instinct I had was screaming for me to pull her close and protect her. Tell her that she was enough, that she was worthy, anything to get rid of that look in her eyes.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat and folding my arms across my chest. “What flavor are you?”
She turned back toward the machines, pursing her lips while she thought. “I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think?”
I looked over the options and smiled when I found what I was looking for. “Maple bacon donut,” I said, confident in my choice.
“What?” she scoffed. “That sounds nothing like me.”
I laughed. “Sure it does. A little sweet, a little salty, with just the right amount of sass.”
She watched me closely for a moment then turned to face me, folding her arms across her chest and matching my stance. “So then, what about you?”
I took a step closer and shifted my weight, looking into her eyes to meet her challenge. “You tell me.”
She turned and searched the machines. A wicked grin spread across her face, and I ducked my head to hide my smile. I could practically see the smartass beginning to stir behind her eyes, and I was loving every minute of it. She was opening up again.
“French toast,” she said.
“French toast?”
“Yep.” Her smile was bright again. “French toast. It sounds good in theory, but you’ll probably end up regretting the decision later.”
I leaned in close to her, breathing in her sweet scent. “I can promise you would have no regrets.” Her eyes went wide, the creamy skin of her throat moving as she swallowed.
I smiled in victory about rattling her again and took a cup from the dispenser beside the machine, filling it half with maple bacon donut and half with French toast.
I turned back to her, her face twisted in disgust. I shrugged. “They go good together.”
I headed over to the register and dropped the cup on the scale.
“Five seventy-three,” the cashier said.
I nodded to Madison. “It’s on her.”
I grabbed the cup off the scale and turned back to where she stood, still gawking at me. I scooped a large bite of yogurt into my mouth. “Mm, so good,” I said “You should try it.” I gave her a wink and headed
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