CHAPTER SEVEN
MAIZE
The last month and a half have been a mix of emotions, but mostly excitement and dread.
Lately, I’ve been trying to keep myself busy to ensure my mind focuses on anything other than Gavin and the way his lips felt against mine New Year’s Eve. Trying to forget him is proving to be a lot harder than I ever imagined. Nine times out of ten, I want to punch him for being so handsome and smelling so damn good.
As I’m cleaning up after the lunch rush, the night crew comes in and begins prepping dinner. They’re busy chopping onions and having a conversation about their teenage daughters, which has me snickering as I wash dishes. Over the past month, I’ve been doing a lot of soul-searching. I’m not getting any younger, and if I ever want to move out, I have to hustle harder.
