Both the kiss in college and the scene with Adrian earlier flash and overlap in my mind. Despite telling myself it was justan experiment, it stirred something in me that I didn’t know existed.
The same feeling from seventeen years ago—a raw ache that settles inside of me.
Something I can’t explain.
Like aswitchturning on.
There’s no point in denying it anymore, either.
For the first time in my life, I feel it.
Not guilt, or fear… but clarity. Like I’ve wiped the steam from a mirror. I’ve spent too long hiding, too long fighting myself. But this? This clarity feels like freedom. It’s not the end of a battle—it’s the beginning. I know who I am now. And I’m tired of pretending otherwise.
I’ve spent years trying to erase a truth I was never ready to face, but that’s not true anymore. For so long, I thought that if I ignored it, if I pushed it down, it would go away. That if I pretended I was only one thing, I wouldn’t have to grapple with being both. But that was the real lie. I was never just one thing, and I never will be. And for the first time in my life, I don’t want to fight it anymore.
It all slams into me like a freight train.
I didn’t just want him in college. I want him now.
And judging by the way he looked at me tonight, maybe… just maybe, he wants me.
And Sophie…
Fuck.
I want her, too.
CHAPTER TEN
THE DINNER
Sophie
I stop walking, and the equestrian supplies in my arms nearly slip out of my firm grip as my eyes take in the ‘For Rent’ sign sitting in the window. Setting the bucket of things down, I look around the quaint street corner. On one corner is an old-school newsstand, and on the other is a British pub. Directly across the street is an adorable-looking coffee shop called Perky Roasters.
“Cute, right?” a woman says, walking by in large sunglasses while she pushes a pram. “I wish someone would buy it and turn it into a bookstore. Crestwood doesn’t have one, can you believe that?”
“Unbelievable,” I mutter, waving goodbye as she walks off.
Looking back at the small corner shop for rent, my stomach bottoms out with nerves, and I can’t articulate why, exactly.
Except…
The art deco space comes to life before me. I glance into the building, noting the oak herringbone floors, white crown molding, and the large window that could be used for an amazing front display. There’s a lot of room inside—but not in anoverwhelming way. I envision built-in shelves, a few tables for bookish merch, and perhaps a quiet reading chair somewhere in the back.
I could display my favorite romance books…
Or what if it was a romance bookstore?!
Grinning, I send a quick voice message to Stella Ravage, asking for her opinion. She’d recently recruited me into her romance book club, and I’d met her two sisters-in-law, Zoe and Layla, who were also in the book club.
A romance bookstore.
The idea is wild, but… I like it.
Glancing up at the window and ornate woodwork of the front of the shop, I place my hands on my hips as I brainstorm names.
Prose & Passion
