Page 109 of When We Were Young

“Nope. Sounds good. I’m looking at next weekend.”

The creaky sound of Lizette’s bakery door opening hits my ears right before the mouthwatering aroma of her meatloaf and garlic-roasted potatoes does. Within seconds, my mom sets a plate of food in front of each of us.

Lester’s eyes light up. I don’t think he was expecting to be fed.

“These are from Lizzie’s batch she made alongside the ladies. I suspect if you play your cards right, there might be some apple pie in your future, too.”

We both thank her, and Lester wastes no time digging into his food. Based on the sounds he’s making, there’s no question he loves it.

“She still doing okay in there?” I ask my mom. “Does she need me?”

“Sweetheart, she doesn’t even need me. I bet she wouldn’t say no to you hanging around to help her clean up afterward, though.”

“I planned on it.”

As she walks away to help Lizette, I take my first bite of Lizzie’s meatloaf, and Lester’s reaction makes perfect sense now.

* * *

“I can’t believe I forgot to lock my door.” Lizette glances at me. “I always lock it, even when I’m just downstairs.”

I don’t miss the slight shakiness of her hands while she’s speaking.

“Maybe in all the excitement of my first official class, I just forgot.”

I get that this is a big deal to her. What I don’t know yet is why. I’ll continue to wait patiently for her to tell me when she’s ready, but I wish I knew. I hate seeing her worry like this, and maybe I could help if I understood where it’s rooted.

“Hey, it’s okay. Nothing has happened here in the time I’ve lived here.” I take her quivering hands and hold them in mine. “You had your bottom door locked, and I was outside the bakery entrance with Lester.”

“I know, but it just makes me nervous.” She glances at her door. Then, when she looks back at me, her eyes light up. “Would you come in and look around?”

There’s a slight smirk playing at the side of her mouth, and she seems lighter than even just a few seconds ago. I think she’s flirting with me.

“Are you trying to trick me, Lizette Winslow?” The tone of my voice makes it clear I’m up for some banter.

She releases an exaggerated gasp. “No, I would never do that.” She bats her eyelashes at me.

“Are you trying to get me inside your house?” I tease.

“Do you want to get inside my house?” She gazes into my eyes, and I’m not sure we’re talking about the house any longer.

She rises on her tiptoes and puts her hands on my shoulders, then brings her lips to meet mine.

I tense up for a split second. I don’t mean to. I’m just surprised.

She pulls back before I can explain.

“I’m so sorry.” Her face is fiery red, and she’s avoiding eye contact.

I put my hands on her waist and pull her toward me. “No. No, don’t say that. I wasn’t expecting it, but it’s a very good surprise.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. She doesn’t give me a chance to reply, though. “I was trying to be flirty, and I clearly suck at it, so⁠—”

“Stop. You most definitely”—I back her up to the wall behind her until our bodies are nearly touching—”don’t suck at it.”

I brush the pad of my thumb across her lower lip at the same time that I close the distance between us. As soon as our lower halves meet, her eyes widen.

“Oh.” The prettiest grin spreads across her mouth. “I guess maybe I don’t.”