~Madison's POV~
The sweet smell of vanilla, sugar, butter filled the air as we walked inside the bakery. The heat from the ovens immediately greeted us, melting the numbness on our fingers from the chilly air outside, and replacing it with warmth like a hug. A cozy, familiar hug. One that smelled like cinnamon, sugar . . . and him.
"Wow, am I dreaming?"
I snapped myself out of my thoughts and looked up to see Nick eyeing the pastries with a dreamy smile on his face, causing all of us to laugh.
"Hey! You made it!" A man holding a camera walked up to the team. A small Maine Coons logo was stitched on the front of his polo shirt, matching the ones on the players' t shirts, and he grinned excitedly at the players.
Daniel followed close behind him, a small smile stayed on his lips as his eyes scanned the players.
Then his gaze met mine.
I ignored the way my heart clenched painfully in my chest, and averted my gaze to the different pastry displays instead.
Soft classical music played in the background as customers eagerly moved around the bakery, selecting their favorite treats with delight.
"This is the owner, Dan." The photographer nodded to Da--the owner. The owner of the bakery.
He was just the owner . . . so my heart shouldn't have clenched the way it did just moments ago.
Ben snapped his head up and turned to me, while the team erupted into a round of applause for the owner and choruses of 'congratulations'.
"No way! Congratulations!" the tattooed player exclaimed, extending his hand out to the owner. "This bakery is sweet, man!"
"And so are the muffins," Nick added in a tired tone as he munched on a chocolate chip muffin.
I watched as the owner shook the players' hands with a grin on his face, yet I could see right through it.
"Alright, how about we get a quick group photo outside?" the photographer asked the team.
"What?!" Tom exclaimed, widening his eyes then looking down at his tutu.
Daniel looked at him then shifted his gaze to me.
"Did you want to grab something to eat first?" The photographer adjusted his glasses. "Then we could--"
"No," Ben cut in sternly. "The faster we get this done, the faster it's over," he said before heading outside still wearing his own tutu.
~Daniel's POV~
That couldn't be her.
Was it her?
No, it wasn't her.
She wouldn't--
Those eyes.
Her eyes.
Roger was right.
She was here.
Yet she wasn't . . .
Any traces left of her dark brown hair was completely gone as her hair now was as light as ever. A complete contrast to the way I used to know her.
Yet when her eyes connected with mine, they still had the same effect on me.
The way she bit her cheek when she was nervous, like she was doing now, was still the same.
She stood a small distance away, yet close enough for the faint scent of her perfume to reach my senses, filling me with warmth as it always had.
It was still her.
YOU ARE READING
Endure
Teen Fiction*Third book in Linger series* endure | inˈd(y)o͝or, enˈd(y)o͝or | verb 1. suffer (something painful or difficult) patiently, just as I knew I would have to how to do on my own, and he would too . . . . . . but the thought of the two of us enduring...