Featured Author: Jenny Proctor
I knew it would happen eventually.
I don’t live in a big town. It was only a matter of time before I saw my ex again.
But I didn’t expect to see him with her.
I stand across the street in the front window of the bookstore and watch as they exit the coffee shop arm in arm.
Jake looks over at the woman beside him and tilts his head toward the bookstore. She smiles, her eyes brightening, then they move toward the crosswalk at the corner.
I groan.
He’s bringing her here.
I close my eyes, thinking back on the words Jake said to me when we broke up. I didn’t mean to fall for her, Chloe. It just happened. I hope you can understand.
I’m suddenly filled with a potent rage that makes my hands tremble and my stomach clench.
I should leave, slip out the back entrance and avoid what would definitely be an awkward interaction. But that feels cowardly, and I won’t let Jake turn me into a coward.
Then again, I don’t want to just stand here, alone and sad while they’re together and happy.
Movement at the end of the aisle to my right catches my eye, and a wildly impulsive thought pops into my brain.
Before I can chicken out, I stalk down the aisle toward a man I hope is feeling particularly generous. He looks to be about my age, at least from what I can see of his profile, and he isn’t wearing a wedding ring, so I at least have that going for me.
“Hi, sorry,” I say as I stop directly beside him. “Do you mind if I just stand here beside you and pretend like we’re together?”
He turns to face me, and I meet his eyes, sucking in an involuntary gasp.
I know those eyes. That face.
The random man at the end of the aisle wearing a baseball cap, a hoodie with the hood pulled up, and tortoise-shell glasses is the very talented, very famous singer, Sawyer Bellingham.
Sawyer freaking Bellingham!
My eyes widen, and he must take this to mean I recognize him because he lifts a finger to his lips, a silent plea that I not blow his cover.
I nod, swallowing against the sudden knot in my throat.
“So, why is it that we’re here together?” he asks, his familiar voice low and resonant. The sound sends a delicious shiver down my spine.
“I . . . um . . .” Suddenly, I’m completely incapable of forming a coherent sentence.
Behind me, the front door to the bookstore jingles as it opens. I glance over at the door and instinctively move to Sawyer’s other side.
“Ah,” he says. “Something to do with him?”
“My ex,” I say, voice barely above a whisper. “And his new girlfriend.”
“Got it. So we’re together together.”
I quickly shake my head. “You don’t have to—I mean, I didn’t know who you were when I—”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, shooting me a playful grin. “This sounds like fun.”
He slips his hand into mine and threads our fingers together. “What’s your name?”
“Chloe,” I manage to say.
“Nice to meet you, Chloe,” Sawyer says, then he tugs me down the aisle and toward the back of the bookstore where Jake and his date have just stepped into the travel section.
Sawyer reaches up and slides back his hood, then removes his glasses. Suddenly, he’s much less incognito, and I glance around, wondering if anyone else has noticed.
“If you don’t want people to notice you, that isn’t going to help,” I say as he hooks his glasses over the collar of his T-shirt.
He gives me a good-natured shrug. “This feels worth it. If you want to make your ex jealous, why not make him really jealous?”
I quirk an eyebrow at him, studying him for a long moment. “Why are you so willing to help me?”
Something in his expression shifts. “Because I’ve been in your shoes,” he says simply, as if that’s explanation enough.
A few aisles over, Jake laughs, and Sawyer looks up. “You ready to do this?” He lifts a hand, hovering it just above my hip. “May I?”
I nod, and he slips it around my waist, tugging me closer. I raise a hand to his chest, letting it fall against the soft fabric of his hoodie. I’m close enough now to catch the scent of him, something subtle and manly and utterly delicious.
“You should laugh,” he says, his voice low. “Loud enough to get his attention.”
“I can’t just laugh,” I say. “Not unless you say something funny.”
Sawyer leans close, his breath tickling my ear as he says, “What did the hot dog say when he won the race?”
I smile, feeling weirdly comfortable in Sawyer’s arms. “What?” I ask.
“I’m the wiener,” he answers, and I burst out laughing.
“Good work,” Sawyer says, then his eyes lift. He must see Jake coming because his grip on my waist tightens. “Chloe, do you trust me?”
When I nod, he leans down and presses his lips to mine.
And suddenly, time stops.
By any standard, the kiss is tame, something totally appropriate for the middle of a bookstore on a random Tuesday afternoon. But it doesn’t feel tame. It feels like fire. Like something inevitable. Something tangible. Something I’ve been waiting for all my life.
Sawyer lifts a hand to my cheek as he pulls away, keeping his face close as I blink my eyes open.
His voice is husky, a little raw as he says, “Was that . . . did you feel—”
“Yes,” I say, cutting him off. Because whatever he’s asking, I felt it too.
“We should get dinner somewhere,” he says, and I nod.
“Okay.”
He threads his fingers through mine. “Right now?”
“Right now,” I repeat.
I have no idea what’s happening; I just know I don’t want to let go.
So I don’t.
Instead, I follow Sawyer Bellingham out of the bookstore without glancing back even once to see if Jake saw me go.
Wired for relationships, Jenny loves public speaking, teaching, and building lasting connections. Jenny was born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, a place she considers one of the loveliest on earth. She loves to hike with her family and spend time outdoors, but she also adores lounging around her home, reading great books or watching great movies and, when she’s lucky, eating delicious food she doesn’t have to prepare herself.
Her latest release is Here We Go Again, book 2 in the Georgia Jaguars Hockey series.
Connect with Jenny on Facebook, Instagram, Threads, TikTok, and her website.
