The stars twinkled for him.
Oh, it was a foolish kind of love, but I believed he felt it too.
It all came to a halt when Levi’s mother caught us having sex in the boathouse the summer before his senior year in college. He was twenty, and I was sixteen and enthralled with making love with him. We’d been doing it since I was fifteen, him sneaking in my room or vice versa.
I remember scrambling to cover myself with his shirt as his mother said horrible things—that I wasn’t good enough, that he was toying with me, that he had a girlfriend at college. Maribelle.
He didn’t stop her when she packed my bags and called CPS. I stared at the dollhouse as the social worker drove me away, weeping the entire way to the group home.
Everything I’d known for three years was ripped away. The best home I ever had.
“Francesca?”
I glance up.
“I didn’t come to ambush you.” His fingers draw patterns on the tablecloth. “I’ve kept up with you. I saw your engagement announcement, but I don’t see a ring.” His gaze lands on my left hand. “But then some people don’t wear them.”
“We broke up.”
He tries to take my hand, but I ease it away. “Don’t.”
His head dips as a long exhale comes from his chest. “The day you came to see me in Providence, I should have followed you when you left. I was in shock. I didn’t expect to see you, and I flaked.”
Oh yes. That.
My lips curl. “You should have seen your face when I walked in your apartment with my ragged jeans and pink hair.”
“Francesca—”
“And Maribelle? She literally called me an urchin. Who talks like that?”
“Uptight girls from Connecticut.”
I glance away from him. Eighteen and fresh out of the group home, I’d tracked him down, caught a Greyhound, and shown up unannounced. Once I saw her with him, it was finally finished. It was a relief to let him go. I could stop dreaming. I could stop loving. I moved on, went to art school, got my apartment, and buried my heart deep, sleeping my way through a long string of Levi types. Edward fit that bill.
Clarity hits. Is that why I never completely committed to my relationship with him? I huff under my breath. Edward is a bastard for cheating, but he was right about him not being what I wanted. I must have been insane. Or lonely.
He takes my hand. This time I don’t pull away, part of me curious if there’s any feeling left. “My parents insisted I keep my distance. I was too old for you, but you were so beautiful that I—”
“Francesca?” comes another man’s voice, one who’s just stepped into the store and walked to our table. I tear my eyes off Levi. Tuck’s wearing black joggers and a tight long-sleeved workout shirt, and his hair is tousled from the wind outside and hangs around his stark cheekbones.
A small laugh comes from me, and when I speak, my voice is teasing. “Hey. I was here first. Did you follow me this time?”
His green eyes skate over my face, taking in my features one by one, lingering on my mouth. His gaze narrows in on my hand in Levi’s. He smiles. “Or did you know I like this bookstore? They have great protein shakes. I get two a week.”
“I’ve been coming here long before you showed up. My tea, remember?”
“Sweetheart, I found this place when I first moved here fourteen years ago. Stop stalking me.” He smiles, slow and easy, then leans down with a palm on the table. His massive body fills up the space as his fingers toy with my locket. “I figured out where I’ve seen this.”
“Where?”
Ignoring that, he touches my cheek. “You look fucking magnificent, Princess. It’s been a while, and I’ve missed you.”
A blush crawls up my cheeks. I’ve missed our walks. The random chitchat. The brush of his shoulder against mine.
Before I can rear back, he brushes his lips over my cheek, then purrs in my ear, “Just when you think I’ll zig, I zag.”
I sputter and pull my hand from Levi’s.