Chapter 2 #2
Ronin busies himself behind the bar, wiping counters and filling drinks for the other patrons.
He doesn’t glance my way again, but his hands are unsteady.
He fumbles his towel more than once, and when it finally lands on the sticky floor, he dips under the counter and reappears with a fresh one.
A deep breath expands his chest as he whips the towel over a shoulder, moving on to his next patron.
Not that I’m staring. I’m not.
I totally am. I can’t take my eyes off of him, drinking in his figure like I am quenching a part of me I didn’t realize was parched.
God, I’ve missed this man more than I have let myself acknowledge.
He’s not wearing his glasses, and I feel a tug in my chest as I remember how much I always loved Ronin in his glasses.
I turn back to Bree and Brooklyn and find them watching me, smirks on both of their faces.
“What?” I snap. “Leave me alone.” Being kept in the dark has left me grumpy, and I take a deep breath to recenter.
This isn’t anyone’s fault, I remind myself.
Bree laughs into her beer. “We didn’t say a word, sweetie. I get it, believe me.”
“How long has he been working at the diner?”
“About two years,” Bree supplies. “He’s the manager. William is still around but Ronin basically runs the place now.”
I let that information sink in. Ronin had always wanted to run his own business. He had wanted to open his own bar or a shop of some kind. I always thought that he would eventually take over The Reading Nook. Managing this place, maybe one day even owning it, suits him.
Seeking him out once more, I find him at the far end of the bar, elbows leaning on the counter as he holds a conversation with a group of young adults.
His T-shirt is snug, the dark gray material stretching across his broad back muscles.
Did he get taller? Obviously not, but I’d forgotten how dominating his presence can feel.
Or maybe that was just the thousands of butterflies currently wreaking havoc on my insides at the sight of him.
He’s wearing dark denim jeans, the towel tucked into one of his back pockets. From my vantage point, his red Converse sneakers are a splash of vibrant color, and the sight of the familiar pair of shoes tugs tightly at my chest.
I need a minute to myself.
I pick up my beer, surprised to see I’ve already downed half of it. What’s left is finished with a few big gulps.
Brooklyn looks at me with concern. “You good, Mellie? You want another round, or…?” She trails off.
“Yeah I’m good. I just need a minute.” My fingers tug at the sleeves of my sweater, pulling the fabric down to cover my hands.
“I’m gonna step out front, get a blast of cold air real quick.
It’s—It’s a bit warm in here.” I smile at Brooklyn.
“Another round sounds great. Put it on a tab for me this time, alright?”
Brooklyn nods, and Bree reaches over to give my hand a squeeze before I make my way through the throngs of chairs to the front door.
The little bell rings as I step outside, the cool air greeting my flushed skin.
I welcome the feeling, stopping a few feet down the sidewalk to lean against the building.
Tipping my face up to the night sky, I close my eyes, taking a few deep breaths.
I knew that seeing Ronin would bring back memories.
That it would bring back old, familiar feelings, and yet, experiencing it is a different thing altogether.
I thought I was prepared, but this aching in my chest is threatening to overwhelm me.
I’ve missed my best friend. When I think about how we left things—how I left things—I’m filled with such shame that my cheeks heat, burning in the cold, biting air.
I packed away my life and moved a thousand miles away, and I didn’t even say goodbye.
I’ve tried my hardest over the years to not let myself think about the night before I left.
What could have been if I had stayed in Blue Fields.
When I let myself take responsibility for it…
I left him behind. I ran away. I did this to us. No wonder he stopped talking to me.
“Mel?” A deep voice interrupts my inner turmoil and I open my eyes, glancing toward the front door where his familiar frame stands on the sidewalk, the door clanging shut behind him. “Mellie? Are you alright?”
Ronin walks toward me, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He stops a few feet away, watching my face as I stare back at him.
“Ronin,” I whisper. My traitorous eyes start to well, and I blink the tears back, looking away. I do not want to cry in front of this man right now. I clear my throat, not trusting my voice as I push off from the wall. “I’m okay. Needed a minute to cool off, that’s all.”
I keep my gaze on the ground, trying not to acknowledge his sneakers, but the memory of buying our matching Converse together one summer hits me directly in the chest. So many memories swim between the two of us—even sneakers are making me emotional.
I can feel his focus on me, his very presence making my heart pound so hard I can feel it beating in my ears, but I am at a loss for words. It doesn’t feel like the right time to bring up any of the things I want to say to him. I don’t know when it will ever be the right time.
I scuff a sneaker across the sidewalk, shuffling awkwardly in place. Finally looking up, my heart stops as our gazes meet. He takes his hands out of his pockets, as if he’s about to step forward.
“Mel,” he starts, but at that moment, the door swings open behind him with a bang, making us both jump as a group piles loudly out of the diner. I take advantage of the distraction, not wanting to have this conversation outside of a bar in the cold. Not yet.
I step around him, gesturing inside the diner. “I should get back inside. Bree is waiting for me.”
His blue irises hold mine, looking like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. He nods, reaching out to hold the door open for me as I duck back inside into the warm air.