“Still no fucking cell service. He’d been driving three hours. He’d been trying to reach the café the entire time, but as soon as he’d left Redbolt, his service had dropped. And in his haste to leave, he’d forgotten his phone charger. “Fuck.” Now the battery had died, leaving him no access to any of his phone numbers. “Damn it.” He tossed his phone onto the seat next to him. His palms were so sweaty he could barely keep a grip on the steering wheel. He’d have to find a pay phone somewhere and lo...ok up the number of the café. Yeah, the café you just up and abandoned? What the fuck are you doing, Avalon? Exactly what he needed to be doing. Exactly what he’d wanted to do since the second he’d left Los Angeles. He was going back. Or was he running away? He couldn’t help it. He kept recalling that hurt look of betrayal in Phoebe’s eyes when she’d stared up at him from the crowd during the cook-off. He’d been so happy to have won. He’d hoped his attempt would show that he did care about her winning, and about the café.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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