Chapter 13
Ella
I’m on edge.
It’s been two days since the whiskey and salted caramel ice cream kiss, and I can’t even look at spoons anymore. Every time the elevator doors open, my heart does that stupid, hopeful stutter like it’s forgotten how to be subtle.
I’m scrubbing the countertop in a daze.
Ashton snaps her fingers in front of my face. “I think it’s clean.”
I blink. “What?”
She takes the rag out of my hand and drops it into the bin.
The bell over the door rings.
A man in a navy jacket steps in, holding up a badge.
“Health department. I’m here for an inspection.”
My stomach dips—not because we’re dirty, but because… we’re not due for one. Those are usually scheduled. Annual. Boring.
Still, I smile. “Of course. Go right ahead.”
He nods and starts walking the space, clipboard in hand.
Ashton comes up beside me, lowering her voice. “Is this normal?”
“Not really,” I whisper back. “But we’re fine. We always are.”
We go back to work while he checks everything. Fifteen minutes pass. Maybe twenty.
Finally, he comes back to the counter.
“All right,” he says. “I’ve completed the inspection.”
“Oh,” I say. “Did everything look okay?”
“You’ll receive the results shortly.”
I frown. “Usually they tell us right away.”
He gives a tight, professional smile. “You’ll know shortly.”
And then he leaves. Ashton and I stare at each other.
“That was… weird,” she says.
“Yeah,” I agree. “It was.”
We both shake it off and go back to work.
The bell rings again.
I don’t look up right away.
When I do, my brain stalls.
Nathan stands just inside the door. Next to him is a man about his height, broad-shouldered, familiar in that way you only realize a second too late.
Wait.
I blink.
Isn’t that the celebrity football player?
I think that’s Bishop Towns.
Ashton, of course, realizes it instantly.
“Oh,” she says. “Well, that explains the shoulders.”
Bishop smiles politely. “Hi.”
Nathan doesn’t look at her.
He looks at me.
He walks up to the counter while Ashton and Bishop start talking quietly.
“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry,” he says under his breath. “About the other night. That wasn’t like me. I shouldn’t have—” He exhales. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
My chest does something unhelpful.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Really.”
He nods, like he’s relieved. Or maybe like he’s just checking a box.
Behind him, Ashton hears enough to piece it together.
“If you’re trying to make it up to her,” she says, “you could actually take her to that dinner.”
The four of us go quiet. Nathan looks at him. Then at me.
He looks… uncomfortable.
“I… yeah,” he says slowly. “I guess I could.”
Nathan’s phone chooses that inopportune moment to go off. He stares down at the screen, and his entire face falls. “Nathan Reign speaking.” He nods at Bishop and walks out of the store.
Bishop walks over to me and holds out his hand.
I stare at it. “Uh, yes?”
“I’ll give you his number. Send him a text when he’s not…distracted. He’s a difficult one, but just know his heart is in the right place. So, your only job is to text him when you’re available. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ashton sighs and leans against the wall. “You’re a good egg, Bishop.”
He grabs a napkin and pulls out a shiny metal pen that looks expensive, then quickly scribbles down Nathan’s number and hands it to me. “Seriously, text him, okay?” His smile is gorgeous and huge.
Nathan’s voice calls from outside, “Bishop! You coming?”
Bishop glances toward the door. “Yeah, one sec!” He waves, turns, and rushes out, the bell chiming behind him.
When I look down, I notice he’s left his pen on the counter.
Before I can reach for it, the bell rings again.
A woman steps in, mid-twenties maybe, sharp eyes, clutching her phone like she’s mid-scroll. Her energy feels bright but… too focused.
“Was that Bishop Towns?” she asks, voice pitched casual, though she’s already looking toward the door he exited through.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, still half-distracted by the open pastry boxes.
She exhales, almost a laugh. “Wow. I thought so.” She leans a little closer across the counter. “Do you, um… happen to know what he ordered? His coffee, I mean.”
The question throws me off. “His coffee?”
“Yeah,” she says quickly, smiling. “I just...I always like knowing what famous people order.”
I hesitate, then shrug. “Um, he actually didn’t order anything.”
She laughs softly, but it’s the kind of laugh that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Right. Of course he didn’t.” She looks around once more, like she’s taking in the space. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”
And before I can answer, she walks out of the bakery.
Ashton glances over. “What was that about?”
I shrug in confusion.
When I glance back toward the counter.
The pen’s gone.
I frown, check around quickly, then shake my head. Probably rolled somewhere.
Ashton watches me for a moment, then says, “I like him…Nathan.”
I look at her. “You don’t even know him.”
“I know enough,” she says. “He didn’t have to come down here just to talk to you. He could’ve just… let it be awkward. That tells me he’s not careless.
“I don’t think he came down here just to talk to me.”
“He didn’t order anything, did he?” she says, tapping her nose.
I don’t argue with that.
“Don’t overthink it. Just text him. Go to dinner. Let it be a thing.”