It Ends With Us(58)

I squeeze him tight, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

I close my eyes and wish I could wash away the entire last two days.

Atlas is wrong about Ryle.

I just wish Atlas knew he was wrong.





Chapter Sixteen


“I mean . . . I’m not trying to be selfish, but you didn’t taste the dessert, Lily.” Allysa groans. “Oh, it was sooo good.”

“We’re never going back there,” I say to her.

She stomps her foot like a little kid. “But . . .”

“Nope. We have to respect your brother’s feelings.”

She folds her arms over her chest. “I know, I know. Why did you have to be a hormonal teenager and fall in love with the best chef in Boston?”

“He wasn’t a chef when I knew him.”

“Whatever,” she says. She walks out of my office and closes the door.

My phone buzzes with an incoming text.

Ryle: 5 hours down. About 5 more to go. So far so good. Hand is great.





I sigh, relieved. I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do the surgery today, but knowing how much he was looking forward to it makes me happy for him.

Me: Steadiest hands in all of Boston.





I open my laptop and check my email. The first thing I see is an inquiry from the Boston Globe. I open it and it’s from a journalist interested in running an article about the store. I grin like an idiot and start emailing her back when Allysa knocks on the door. She opens it and sticks her head in.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say back.

She taps her fingers on the doorframe. “Remember a few minutes ago when you told me I could never go back to Bib’s because it’s unfair to Ryle that the boy you loved when you were a teenager is the owner?”

I fall back against my chair. “What do you want, Allysa?”

She scrunches up her nose and says, “If it isn’t fair that we can’t go back there because of the owner, how is it fair that the owner gets to come here?”

What?

I close my laptop and stand up. “Why would you say that? Is he here?”

She nods and slips inside my office, closing the door behind her. “He is. He asked for you. And I know you’re with my brother and I’m with child, but can we please just take a moment to silently admire the perfection that is that man?”

She smiles dreamily and I roll my eyes.

“Allysa.”

“Those eyes, though.” She opens the door and walks out. I follow behind her and catch sight of Atlas. “She’s right here,” Allysa says. “Would you like me to take your coat?”

We don’t take coats.

Atlas glances up when I walk out of my office. His eyes cut to Allysa and he shakes his head. “No, thank you. I won’t be long.”

Allysa leans forward over the counter, dropping her chin on her hands. “Stay as long as you like. In fact, are you looking for an extra job? Lily needs to hire more people and we’re looking for someone who can lift really heavy things. Requires a lot of flexibility. Bending over.”

I narrow my eyes at Allysa and mouth, “Enough.”

She shrugs innocently. I hold my door open for Atlas, but avoid looking directly at him as he passes me. I feel a world of guilt for what happened last night, but also a world of anger for what happened last night.

I walk around my desk and drop into my seat, prepared for an argument. But when I look up at him, I clamp my mouth shut.

He’s smiling. He waves his hand around in a circle as he takes a seat across from me. “This is incredible, Lily.”

I pause. “Thank you.”

He continues smiling at me, like he’s proud of me. Then he places a bag between us on the desk and pushes it toward me. “A gift,” he says. “You can open it later.”

Why is he buying me gifts? He has a girlfriend. I have a boyfriend. Our past has already caused enough problems in my present. I certainly don’t need gifts to exacerbate that.

“Why are you buying me gifts, Atlas?”

He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. “I bought it three years ago. I’ve been holding on to it in case I ever ran into you.”

Considerate Atlas. He hasn’t changed. Dammit.

I pick up the gift and set it on the floor behind my desk. I try to release some of the tension I’m feeling, but it’s really hard when everything about him makes me so tense.

“I came here to apologize to you,” he says.

I wave off his apology, letting him know it isn’t necessary. “It’s fine. It was a misunderstanding. Ryle is fine.”

He laughs under his breath. “That’s not what I’m apologizing for,” he says. “I’d never apologize for defending you.”

“You weren’t defending me,” I say. “There was nothing to defend.”

He tilts his head, giving me the same look that he gave me last night. The one that lets me know how disappointed in me he is. It stings deep in my gut.

I clear my throat. “Why are you apologizing, then?”

He’s quiet for a moment. Contemplative. “I wanted to apologize for saying that you sounded like your mother. That was hurtful. And I’m sorry.”