"Nicole?" Chef called, as everyone packed up their bags. Today, they'd find out who he'd chosen for the culinary minor. She'd only gotten to know a handful of the hundred and eighteen students, but she wondered which of them he'd choose. What about the twenty made them glow brighter than the others? She wished them well.

Lifting the strap of her messenger bag over her head, she adjusted it and headed to the front of the lab. "Yes, Chef?"

"You surprised me."

Okay.

"Not many people do that."

"Well, thank you. I..." She wouldn't lie and say she enjoyed his class. "I learned a lot. Thank you." She turned to go.

"I know I was hard on you."

She stopped. Turned to face him. Was he messing with her again?

"I thought you'd drop out." He shrugged. "You didn't belong here. But you didn't drop out, and it made me curious. So I pushed. I couldn't see how you'd fit into a culinary program with all your...sensitivities. But you didn't quit." He eyed her thoughtfully. "You never quit."

"This minor is important to me."

He nodded. "I got some decent final presentations."

Well, good for the select few he'd chosen. She wanted to leave, but she had the sense he wasn't finished with her.

"But no one gave me an action plan. Other than you. I like it, Nicole. I like it very much. I don't know if the residents of Wilmington will make use of the community garden you're planning, but we'll make sure all my future students do."

Uh, was that the Queen's we or the Chef and Nicole we? "That's great."

"I'd like you to oversee that project for the school, if that interests you."

"The project? You want me to oversee the building of the greenhouse? Using recycled plastic bottles?"

He hadn't smiled so broadly since the first student dropped his lab. "That's what I'm saying."

"I'd like that very much, but I don't know what my schedule will be like. I have to choose a different minor, and I'm developing my cupcake business."

He tipped his head, looking baffled. "You're in, Nicole."

"In?" Her heart pounded hard and fast.

"Didn't you see the list I posted on the door?"

She hadn't bothered to look.

"I chose you."

"You..." Emotion rushed her so fast she went dizzy. "Thank you." She was stunned. Honestly, just...stunned. "I...wow...I didn't expect that. Thank you." She turned once again to go.

"Hang on. Your final project...I want to know how you did it."

Seriously, he wanted to know about her vegetable, bean, and rice dish? Wait a minute. Was he back to playing games?

"I'm not a pastry chef," he said. "And I consume enough calories through my own creations that I rarely eat desserts, but I know a treasure when I find one."

Okay, whoa. Now she was completely confused. What did her final project have to do with dessert? She waited for him to continue.

Briefly, he looked confused. But then he just looked interested. "How do you do it? How do you infuse the scent of a flower in the batter of a cupcake? Usually adding syrup makes an overly sweet product. But yours...I thought I was biting into a lavender-scented cloud."

"I don't understand. You've had one of my cupcakes?"

His brow furrowed. "You turned in a cupcake, didn't you?"

"I turned in the rice dish."

"Yes, and then several hours later a lavender cupcake was delivered with a note that said it was yours."

"What? I don't understand any of this."

"You don't make lavender cupcakes?"

"No, I do. But I didn't turn one in for my final project."

"No, but a very large young man with shoulder-length hair did. Ring a bell?"

James reached across the scarred table to squeeze her hand. "Wait, you're serious? You made it?"

"Congratulations." Sydney leaned over and threw her arms around her neck. "We have to celebrate."

"Hey, this is a celebration," James said. "We got her out of the house."

Nicole gave him a smirk. Ever since her dad's visit, she'd gotten out more. But she'd heard Dylan had come back to school, so she hadn't ventured into town. But, hey, she'd pulled herself together enough to get through finals and get back to Sweet Treats. Her dad had helped her separate the pain of losing Dylan, the love of her life, and the debilitating fear of not being chosen. Irrational, but still. Her dad's insights helped her see that she could carry on, even with a broken heart.

She just had to stop giving her heart to people who couldn't choose her.

"So, um..." Wrapping her hands around the mug, she let the heat travel up her arms. The hum of conversation in the coffee house relaxed her and, for the first time, the ache in her heart didn't pull her under. "I can't help wondering why he did it."

"He loves you." Sydney bumped her shoulder. "You know he does."

Dylan loved her enough to bake cupcakes and turn them in for her final project in culinary but not enough to be with her? If he'd come back to school, why hadn't he come to her?

Maybe he'd gotten back with Kelsi.

Nope. She didn't believe that for one second. She smiled at James. "So, do you think he just slopped the frosting on?"

Sydney and James shared a look, then Sydney smiled.

"What?" She nudged James gently under the table with her boot. "You did it? You frosted them?"

"Nutbag woke me up at six in the morning."

"He did?"

"He was going to turn it in with the frosting slapped on, because he figured it was all about taste, but then he got all worried you'd get marked down for presentation."

Sydney placed a hand on her heart and swooned. "He thought it should reflect you completely, and you'd never turn in something-"

"Half-ass." James finished her sentence.

"So, what do you think?" Sydney asked. "Are you glad to be in the program?"

"Nothing really pushes the needle, you know? My meter's pretty flat right now. But, yeah. I mean, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"Baby steps," James said.

A few other friends showed up, crowding around their table. Nicole remained quiet. Talking about Dylan had stoked the pain to life. Times like this, the loss seemed unbearable. How did she move on after a guy who'd let her sleep in his bed because of a nasty roommate, who'd...well, who'd bake lavender cupcakes to make sure she got into the program that mattered so much to her?

Oh, dammit. Tears burned, and her throat started to close. She would not cry.

But, God, what a freaking loss. Fine, he was never hers to begin with-as he'd told her repeatedly-but how cruel to have had him in her life such a short time. She missed him.

She ached for him.

A rowdy crowd entered the coffee house. Her friends were so engaged in conversation they barely noticed.

Nicole did. She recognized Joe, Kevin, Dylan's whole crew. Why had she agreed to come into town? It was so small, her chances of seeing him- He was there. The group shifted, revealing him in the center. Fierce pain slugged her gut. Out of everyone in the room, he stood out. Tall, powerful, and strikingly handsome. But he was wasted, she could see from the laziness of his eyes, the slouch of his shoulders. Someone said something that had them all cracking up, and then one of the girls wrapped her arms around him and rubbed his stomach.

Anger, disgust, pain fired her up and out of her chair. Turning sideways, she angled her way between the closely packed tables and blew out of the warmth of the coffee house into the bitter, freezing cold.

He disgusted her. He was a drunk just like Jonathan, just like her mom. Just like his mom. God, how could he watch his mom for eighteen years and then turn out just like her? She was so glad she hadn't turned out like her mom. Not wanting James or anyone to come after her, she shot off a quick text. Tired. Going home. Alone, ok?

Sure you don't want me to come with?

Positive.

Here if u need me.

Cold air stung her face, making her eyes water. Damn, she forgot her coat. God, what a pig. Right back to partying and hooking up. What a relief it must be for him to be free again. To be back in the world he knows best.

Screw him. God, it was cold. She race-walked down Main Street, only just then becoming aware of the sound of boots hitting pavement behind her. A hand clamped down on her shoulder.

She swung around to him, ready to ream him out, but when she saw the remorse, the pain in his eyes, she shut her mouth.

All the anger, the hate...just faded. Because she looked at this man she'd always thought of as strong and powerful and realized he was just a guy. Dealing with some heavy stuff he didn't know how to handle.

Like her dad said, it wasn't about her at all.

It took a moment before she noticed his offering. Her coat. He'd found it among the dozens on the hooks by the door, and he'd brought it to her.

"Thank you." She turned to go. Honestly, she couldn't bear to be around him.

"Wait."

And there it was all over again. That single word was the flint to spark her anger back to life. "For what? For you to be the man you could be? No, I don't do that. I keep moving forward. You of all people should know that." She'd learned her lesson. She'd never wait for another person again. Either they were marching forward, strong enough to face their own demons and create their own lives, or she'd quietly move on.

But he kept up with her, matching her pace. "We never got to talk."

"You never bothered trying."

"I did. I came to the house as soon as I got back to school, but your friends wouldn't let me in to see you." He didn't sound all that drunk.

"They were your friends, too." He'd just preferred the townies.

"They made a choice-they didn't want me to hurt you-and it was the right one. But I wanted to tell you I'm sorry."

"Shut up. Just shut up. I do not want to hear another word out of your stupid mouth."

"Fine. I just wanted-"

She stopped. "I don't care what you want. And guess why, Dylan?" She spat his name out like it was an olive pit. "Because your actions already told me what you want. Go back to your friends, your girls, the life that makes you comfortable. Stay away from me. You made your choice."

"My choice? Are you fucking serious? My mom tried to kill herself."

She exhaled, making sure he saw how bored she was with this conversation. "People don't try to commit suicide, Dylan. They do it."

His eyes went wide with horror. As if she were some kind of monster. But she didn't care. His mom had played him. Too bad he couldn't see it. But then he calmed down, took a few deep breaths. "Maybe you're right. But even so, it was different for you. You had your dad, your brothers. You had your mansion in Greenwich."

"My mansion? Really? Wow, when you go back you go all the way back. Right back to the boy who flashed his White Trash badge to everyone he met. Well, screw you, Dylan. My choice was no easier to make than yours. I just made a different one. Stop making excuses-they only make you look more cowardly than you already are."

He reeled back. "I'm a coward? I'm a coward for taking care of my mom? Are you out of your fucking mind? I might have to give up my scholarship to keep her-"

"To keep things exactly the same. Because that's all you'll accomplish by giving up your future. As long as you allow her to manipulate you, as long as you do exactly what you've always been doing, nothing will change. Nothing you do or say will ever change who she is. Eighteen years of living with her has proven that to you. You know that, deep in your bones you know there's not a damn thing you can do to make her change."

"You're pissed because I didn't choose you. I wanted to. You don't think I wanted to?"

"No. You didn't want to. You wanted to keep things the way they were because that's how you feel safe." She had nothing more to say.

"You know I had to choose my mom."

She stormed up to him. "The choice was never between me or your mom. The choice has only ever been between your past and your future. And instead of choosing the life you could make for yourself-the life you can actually have if you had the balls to take it-you chose to stay in your past, the only world you've ever known. That makes you a coward." She narrowed her eyes. "Now, thank you for bringing me my coat, but I don't want you to do one more thing for me. Ever. Stay away from me. I choose me, my future, and you're not in it."

She walked back to the house, aware that he'd followed from a distance. As she pulled out her key, she glanced over to find him watching. Making sure she got in safely.

And the loss of that-someone caring about her, looking out for her-it just made her heart ache.

She entered the house and quickly closed the door on him.