It’s quarter to ten and I’m outside the SweetStop Bakery on Main Street. Romeo, in the soft morning light, with the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar, is one of the most wonderful places in the world. But it’s just taken on a sharper, more vibrant appeal.

My heart skips a beat. Not from caffeine—I haven’t had any yet—but from the sight of Gavin in Romeo. It’s been six years. He’s thinner than Will, tanner, and he has a more restless energy, like he’s waiting to spring into action. Which is perfect. I need him to spring into action when I trip and fall into his arms. I look down at my outfit, a vintage yellow and navy blue cotton pleated dress. It’s about be sacrificed on the altar of love.

Gavin stands on the opposite side of Main Street, just outside the outfitters store. He’s in hiking clothes and looks like a cover model for an outdoor magazine. He’s reading something on this phone and pacing back and forth, oblivious to the morning activity of the town. Mrs. Charles pushes a cart of books out onto the sidewalk in front of Bookends, her used book store. Mr. Kwan stands on a ladder cleaning the hardware store’s windows. Laney Forsyth has six dogs on leashes. She’s beginning her daily round of dog-walking. She waves and I wave back.

Gavin still hasn’t looked up from his phone, which is good. All I have to do is step in his path and let him run into me, spill coffee all over us, and let sweet love do the rest.

Gavin reaches the end of the storefront and turns around. He’s focused on his phone, he taps something into it with his thumbs. He’s only twenty feet away.

This is it.

Our meet-cute.

The moment our love story begins.

Well, I mean, for me it began when I was eight. But the story of us begins now.

My chest squeezes and I freeze—nerves. He so good-looking, so charming, so perfect. No. I can do this. As soon as we have our romantic-comedy-style clumsy girl meeting, Gavin will feel the soul mate vibes and fate will take care of the rest.

“You can do this, Jessie,” I whisper.

Gavin’s only ten feet away. His head is down and he’s pacing toward me. I take a bolstering breath, hold my iced triple espresso, double whip mocha in front of me and stride forward.

Impact in three steps.

Two.

The glass door to the outfitter store flies open. I’m right in its path. I hold out my free hand to stop it, but it slams into me.

“Eeek!”