Gavin’s jaw drops a second, and Gabe turns to him, taking in the man before him. He’s waiting on an introduction or recognition, and Gavin finally offers.
“Gavin Scott.” A knowing smile crosses Gavin’s face. Gabe hit on me once that summer when we were teens. Gavin and I were outside the ice cream shop, and Gabe tried to ask me out, insulting me actually by saying that when I wanted to upgrade from the local player, he’d be willing and waiting for me. I’d been so upset at the implication that I would pass myself around the local boys, I dropped my ice cream on his foot. Gavin thought it was epic, and I’d done it on purpose. I hadn’t, but I didn’t regret it. I also hadn’t forgotten about that moment, although Gabe apparently did.
“No shit,” Gabe states, holding out a hand to shake Gavin’s. The irony in their greeting is they were never friends, at least not that I remember of that summer. “Good to see you.”
Gavin nods without offering the same compliment.
“What brings you home?” Gabe asks, holding his position by the counter.
“He’s a filmmaker,” Jenna offers, proudly speaking before Gavin can. With his mouth open, Gavin quickly shuts it upon Jenna’s explanation.
“Ah, right. The big shot baseball player turned movie star.” Gabe seems to know a thing or two about Gavin, which doesn’t surprise me. “Sorry about your arm.”
“I’m not a movie star,” Gavin mutters, growing a bit defensive. His brows pinch in irritation at Gabe’s presence. “And it was my wrist.” It’s almost as if I can see Gavin thinking, wrestling to piece the puzzle together.
“Well, good to see you can still use it.” Gabe’s eyes lower for Gavin’s hand, holding the cup of tea, and Henry snorts. I’m missing something, but Gabe turns back to me.
“So, about that date?”
“What date?” Gavin questions, his eyes narrowing on me again. If I thought Gavin could send me telepathy, his thoughts would be, you’ve got to be shitting me. Instantly, I read what he’s thinking. Gabe Carpenter is the man I said I had. I could play this to my advantage, but I just couldn’t find anything about Gabe attractive. I’m not the one who’s an actress, so I can’t fake this.
“I’m sorry, Gabe. I can’t tonight.” I’ve been running slim on rejection reasons as Gabe never takes the hint. Then a new excuse strikes before I can stop myself. “I’m going to see Gavin’s film tonight.”
Gavin’s eyes widen before a slow smile curls his lips, exposing that singular dimple that used to get me every time. It’s still doing funny things to me as he beams at me from beside Gabe.
“A movie?” Gabe adds. “I’d love to see a movie.”
“I’m sorry, Gabe. It’s a private showing,” Gavin says, and I lift a brow. Is it?
Henry decides to speak. “But I thought—”
“Shush,” Jenna hisses to Henry about to explain that no showing is exclusive.
“It’s private,” Gavin and I say in unison, and then we both laugh. We’d done that a time or two when we were young. We also did it that weekend as if time had never passed between us.
“Where should I take you next?” he’d asked.
“The desk,” we’d said together.
God, I’d been so reckless that weekend, and my face heats instantaneously with the flash of memory. Gavin’s still watching me, and his smile grows bigger.
“I’ll leave a ticket in your name at the door,” he says to me.
“Oh, you don’t need to—” I begin but abruptly stop when Gavin tips his head at Gabe. The implication is clear. It’s either him or Gabe for the evening. I’m not certain which is the lesser of two evils.
Once Gabe leaves without a date and a tea I’m certain he never drinks, Gavin lingers, giving me the details of where and when the film will play.
“So, he’s not your man,” Gavin confirms with a gleam in his dark eyes.
“What man?” Henry interjects, and I turn on him.
“Don’t you have something to do in the back?” Henry helps prep things in the afternoons for the next morning when we bake the scones freshly every day. Henry stares at me and wondering at the directness of my tone before disappearing in the back. Jenna chuckles, giving me a knowing glance.
I’m onto you, sister, it says, and she’s not going to play along with me and my excuses. Not with Gavin, at least.
“We could meet for dinner beforehand.”
“Oh, the pub in town has the best burgers,” Jenna offers as if Gavin isn’t familiar with Traverse City.
“I’ll just meet you at the movie,” I say, not wanting to add more time to my momentary panic and weakness in decision-making.
“It’s a film,” Gavin corrects with a smile. “And I’ll see you there then.”
Deciding not to push me, he takes a sip of his tea. His brows lift once more. “This is good,” he states, and he doesn’t appear to be faking his approval. Gabe doesn’t even pretend to lift his cup for a drink.
“And one final thing. I remember everything about you.” His eyes roam my body for a second, giving away all he recalls. “Tonight.”
He tips his head to Jenna and exits. When the door closes on his back, I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding and collapse over the countertop.
Jenna fans her face next to me. “Damn girl, who was that sweet sip of tea?”
“He was once my summer love, but that was a long, long time ago.”
“Looks like he’d like to reignite your summer lovin’,” she teases.
“Not going to happen,” I mutter, straightening from my position and swiping a hair behind my ear. My hand rests at the side of my neck, feeling my pulse hammer.
What are you doing, Britton?
“There’s something familiar about him,” Jenna adds, concentrating on the front door. “Do I know him?”
Please don’t let her think too hard, I pray.
“He once played baseball for Oakland,” I offer, but Jenna doesn’t follow the particulars of sports. She nods as if that explains it and breaks into a rendition of “Summer Lovin’.” Thankfully, all discussion of recognition is lost.
+ + +
At six fifty-one, I find myself pacing within a newer movie theater, a second one designed specifically to accommodate the local film festival’s ever-growing popularity. There have been so many changes in the past decades to this city on the bay, a highlight of Michigan tourism.
I shouldn’t be here.
What am I doing here?
I should leave.
“Red licorice?” The deep masculine voice startles me, and I turn to face Gavin. He’s dressed casually once again in dark dress pants and another button-down rolled to the elbows. My breath catches at the sight of him. While Gabe called Gavin a movie star, and Gavin denied it, he’s of movie star quality in his appearance with the slick hair and perfectly trimmed scruff, not to mention those star-filled eyes.
“What are you doing out here?” His showing starts in a few minutes.
“Checking on the popcorn supply.” He smiles before pointing at complimentary bags on the counter. “And passing out licorice but only to select viewers.” He tips the package toward me.