Truthfully, I think just knowing him has made me better in a bunch of different ways. And damn. That’s one of the many reasons I need him back in my life, isn’t it?

As I sit here, drinking a beer with my dad, I realize I have my answer for May.

I’m ready to be the man Brenden Sanderson deserves.

And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

BRENDEN

“Look, I know you sign my paychecks, but could you please take your sad, pathetic face out of my kitchen? You’re distracting me and scaring the new guys.”

It takes me a second to realize Addison is talking to me. And another second to process what she just said. I glance around to find her staring at me, while her new hires are standing at one of the prep tables, awkwardly not looking at me as they’re chopping or mixing or seasoning, or whatever it is they’re supposed to be doing.

Oh.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting on this metal stool in the corner, but the coffee in my mug is cold. This is what I’ve been like for the past week. Sad and pathetic. Missing Travis.

Not only missing what I thought we could have, but also missing the decade-long friendship that came first. That might be what hurts the worst. The fact that I can’t even talk to him, see him. And in a town this small, avoiding someone is also pretty freaking difficult.

So maybe I’ve been spending more time at the inn than I need to. I didn’t think anyone had noticed though.

“I’m just taking a break,” I tell Addison lamely.

“Sure you are.” Crossing the kitchen, she studies me critically, like she’s trying to find what’s wrong with me. But all the wounds are internal. “You want something to eat?” she asks finally.

“No,” I respond reflexively. Then I realize that I’m actually hungry, so I amend that to, “Wait, yeah. Thanks.”

She gives me one more searching look before going to the large fridge and pulling out a few things. She sets them down on the end of the table where the prep guys are working, then says to them, “Hey, why don’t you two go get some air.”

They both give her quizzical looks, and she scowls.

“Take a hint. Scram.”

I almost laugh as they drop their knives and make a hasty escape out the swinging door.

If I had it in me, I’d suggest being nicer to the employees, but whatever.

Addison carefully sweeps some stuff aside and begins whipping something together for me. I don’t bother asking what it is.

“All right, what’s going on with you and Travis?” she asks, not looking up at me.