Chapter 7
Avery
A week later, Avery felt like she’d been scraped raw.
Her arms ached from scrubbing. Her eyes were puffy from crying. Her heart felt bruised in places she didn’t know still existed. But she forced herself out of bed; if she didn’t keep moving, she’d drown in everything she didn’t want to face.
She spent the morning cleaning until her stomach growled loud enough to echo. The pantry was empty except for a bag of flour that expired three years ago and a jar of cinnamon that smelled like dust. Tired of takeout, she grabbed her keys and headed to the front door.
She paused with her hand on the knob.
Something felt… off.
Not wrong. Not dangerous. Just… off. Like the air had shifted. Like the bakery was holding its breath.
Avery shook it off and stepped outside.
The morning sun was bright, almost too bright after the dim interior of Sweet Treats. She blinked against it, locking the door behind her. The street was quiet, just a few cars, a dog barking somewhere down the block, the faint hum of cicadas warming up for the day.
Normal.
She took a step toward her car.
Then stopped.
A figure stood across the street, leaning against a telephone pole. Hood up. Hands in pockets. Head angled just enough that she couldn’t see his face.
He wasn’t moving. Wasn’t on his phone. Wasn’t doing anything except… standing there.
Watching?
Her pulse kicked up, a quick, startled flutter. She blinked hard, trying to clear the sleep and exhaustion from her eyes.
A delivery truck rumbled past, blocking her view for half a second.
When it cleared, the man was gone.
Avery exhaled slowly, forcing her shoulders to relax. “You’re tired,” she muttered to herself. “You’re seeing things.”
Still, she couldn’t shake the prickle at the back of her neck as she walked to her car. She unlocked the door, slid inside, and shut it a little too quickly.
The engine turned over with a reluctant groan.
Avery gripped the steering wheel, trying to steady her breathing.
It was nothing. Just someone passing by. Just nerves. Just exhaustion.
She repeated it until her heartbeat slowed.
Then she pulled out of the parking space and headed toward the grocery store.
The short drive blurred past in a mix of nerves, her mind still stuck in the doorway of Sweet Treats. By the time she turned into the grocery store lot, her pulse had finally settled—barely.
Avery reached for her purse in the passenger seat, and her phone buzzed in the cup holder.
She frowned.
The number on the screen wasn’t saved. Wasn’t familiar. Wasn’t anything she recognized.
Her stomach tightened anyway.
Another buzz.
Unknown Number: Avery, we need to talk.
A second message appeared almost instantly.
Unknown Number: Blocking me won’t fix anything.
Her pulse spiked, sharp and unwelcome.
Ryan.
Of course he’d find another way to reach her. He always did. He never let go — not until she was small enough to fit back into the version of her he wanted.
Avery locked the screen with a shaky breath and shoved the phone deep into her bag, as if burying it could bury him too.
“Not today,” she whispered.
Not ever again.
She drew in a steadying breath and stepped out of the car, forcing her legs to move even though her chest still felt tight.
The automatic doors whooshed open, and the blast of cold air hit her like a shock. She grabbed a cart, trying to focus on her list instead of the ache in her chest.
Flour. Sugar. Butter. Coffee. Anything that made the bakery feel alive again.
She turned down the baking aisle—
And stopped dead.
Noah Carter stood halfway down the row, one hand braced on the shelf, the other holding a can of coffee. His cut hung open over a black T-shirt, tattoos on full display, hair slightly messy like he’d run his hands through it too many times.
He looked unfairly good for someone who’d stormed out on her last week.
He looked up.
Their eyes met.
And the world narrowed to a single, breathless point.
“Avery,” he said, voice low.
“Noah.” She swallowed. “Or is it Rook now?”
His jaw tightened, barely noticeable unless you knew him. “Don’t.”
She pushed her cart forward, pretending her pulse wasn’t doing gymnastics. “I’m just trying to figure out what to call you.”
“You know my name.”
“Do I?”
His eyes darkened. “Aves…”
The nickname hit her like a punch to the ribs.
She looked away quickly, grabbing another bag of flour she didn’t actually need. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“It’s a grocery store,” he said. “People come here.”
“Wow. Insightful.”
A muscle in his jaw ticked. “You always get mean when you’re hurt.”
She stiffened. The world seemed to tilt, just a fraction, but enough to steal her breath.
He stepped closer, slow and careful, like she was something fragile he wasn’t sure he had the right to touch.
“I didn’t mean to…” He exhaled. “Last week was a lot.”
“For both of us.”
“Yeah.”
Silence stretched between them, thick and charged.
He smelled like leather and soap and something warm she remembered too well. His presence wrapped around her like a storm, dangerous, familiar, impossible to ignore.
Avery’s chest tightened — not from the tension, but from the memory that blindsided her. They’d been in this exact aisle when she was seventeen.
She’d been standing on her tiptoes, reaching for a bag of sugar she couldn’t quite grab. Noah had stepped behind her, one hand braced on the shelf beside her head, the other plucking the bag down with ease.
“You’re short,” he’d teased.
“You’re annoying.”
He’d grinned, eyes warm. “You like me anyway.”
She’d rolled her eyes, but her heart had thudded so hard she was sure he heard it.
Avery blinked hard, dragging herself back to the present.
She cleared her throat. “I should finish shopping.”
He nodded, stepping back. “Yeah. Okay.”
But he didn’t walk away.
He followed her.
Not close enough to be obvious. Not far enough to be accidental.
Just… there.
Watching. Hovering. Protecting.
It made her stomach twist in ways she didn’t want to examine.
By the time she reached the checkout line, she was flustered, annoyed, and way too aware of him.
The cashier scanned her items while a guy behind her, mid-twenties in a baseball cap and wearing too much cologne, leaned on his cart and smiled.
“Hey,” he said. “You new in town?”
Avery blinked. “Um… yeah.”
“Thought so. Haven’t seen you around.” He looked her up and down. “You got a name?”
Before she could answer, a voice cut through the air like a blade.
“She’s not interested.”
Avery whipped around.
Noah stood behind them, arms crossed, expression lethal. The guy’s smile faltered.
“Whoa, man,” he said. “Just talking.”
“Talk somewhere else.”
The guy scoffed. “You her boyfriend or something?”
Noah didn’t hesitate. “No.” Then, lower—dangerous: “But she’s still not interested.”
Heat shot up Avery’s neck.
The guy muttered something under his breath and moved to another line.
Avery paid for her groceries and walked out. She felt Noah following behind as she got to her car. Furious, she turned on Noah, “What the hell was that?”
He didn’t flinch. “He was bothering you.”
“He was talking to me.”
“He was hitting on you.”
“So what?”
Noah’s eyes flashed. “So I didn’t like it.”
The words hung between them, raw, unguarded, too honest. Avery felt the ground shift under her feet, a slow, dangerous tilt she wasn’t ready for.
He seemed to realize what he’d said a second too late. His expression shuttered. Shoulders tensed. His breath hitched, barely, but she saw it. Panic flickered across his face, quick and sharp, like he wished he could drag the words back into his mouth.
“I shouldn’t have…” He shook his head. “Forget it.”
“No,” she said softly. “Say it.”
He looked at her then — really looked at her — and the heat in his eyes nearly stole her breath.
“I care,” he said quietly. “More than I should.”
The words seemed to shock him as much as they shocked her.
He stepped closer, instinctive, like gravity pulled him toward her. She felt the warmth of him, the tension, the ache. The faint smell of coffee clung to him, familiar in a way that made her chest ache. His gaze dropped to her mouth, just for a heartbeat, and Avery’s breath caught.
They were close enough to touch.
Close enough to fall.
Close enough to ruin everything.
Noah froze.
His jaw clenched. His fists curled. His breath shook once, barely audible.
Then he stepped back like the moment burned him.
“I’ll… see you around.”
He turned and walked toward his bike, jaw tight, fists clenched, shoulders rigid.
Avery stood frozen in the parking lot, pulse racing, cheeks flushed, stomach flipping.
She was furious. She was flustered. She was confused.
But she knew two things.
She hated how much she’d missed the way he said her name.
And Noah Carter still cared.