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"Because of the tournament?" I shouldn't have been prodding. It wasn't my business. But I was curious.
Rock looked at me for a long beat, his dark brown eyes on mine, his eyebrows lowering slightly, as if he was trying to figure something out. Then he let out a little sigh and started talking.
"Yeah," he began. "Sam is a friend really. And he just admitted on the phone that he sent me down here to this thing because he knew Singletree was my hometown. He thinks I have some things to figure out here."
"Like what? I mean besides taking care of the fact that someone else is living in your house?"
He smiled at that, and then dropped my gaze. "He thinks I should forgive my mom for some things while I'm here, but I have no plans on doing that."
"Ohh," I said, understanding making me quieter. "Yeah, that's not his call."
"He's probably right," Rock said, sounding sad. "It's just..." his eyes met mine again and something shuttered. "Never mind. You don't want to hear about that." He took a long swallow of his drink and then grinned at me. I was beginning to see that the grin was a cover.
"You and your mom don't get along?"
"We don't speak, so no."
"And your dad?"
"Left a while ago," he said.
"Ah."
"But Drea," Rock said, leaning back as a tower of pancakes was placed in front of him and my omelet was delivered to me. "Let's talk about you."
"Um—"
"You work at the Muffin Tin, which explains why you always smell good. Tell me what else I need to know."
He thought I smelled good? He noticed how I smelled? A little thrill went through me for some reason at the idea of Rock thinking about that.
"There's really not much else. Dad is nearby, so I have no plans to leave, even though..."
"Here it comes. Tell me the dream."
"I'd like to go to culinary school."
"This is why you got so upset about the kitchen?"
"Only semi-related," I assured him. "I've always loved to bake and cook, and working at the Tin just makes me wish it was mine."
"So your plan is to go off to learn some incredible cutting-edge culinary strategies and then open a competing bakery in Singletree?"
I laughed. "No, I don't think so. I don't really have a plan. I can't leave my dad right now."
"Because..."
"Because he's old and alone. He needs me."
Rock didn't say anything to that, and we finished our meal making small talk about the weather, the boardwalk, and what it was like living in one of Maryland's prettiest spots, remote though it was.
"Let's walk," Rock said after he insisted on paying for brunch and we found ourselves facing one another on the boardwalk outside.
I checked my watch. "I have about an hour."
"Perfect."
We walked, the late spring sun beating down on us as the salty air began to hint at the warmth of summer to come. A few other people were scattered down the length of the long wooden boardwalk, and walking by Rock's side felt strangely comfortable.
