Baking With Boys |✔

7. Butterscotch Milkshake

"Oui, love. I am back."

His familiar word of endearment snapped me awake from my frozen state. Yet, I asked a redundant question, not able to believe the reality. "Francis, you're re back?"

He laughed at my obvious astonishment, awkwardness slipping through at my lack of a warm welcome. I didn't express it, but the insides of my stomach had twisted into a tight knot, either from being so close to him once again, or the opposite; afraid to make the same mistake like I did years ago.

I cleared my throat, trying to regain my composure. "I mean, you didn't tell me you'll be visiting." Intentionally, I emphasized the word 'visiting', but he didn't seem to notice it.

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it be, love?" he spoke with his thick accent, unchanged since the last time we had met.

He took a step forward, closing the distance between us. I gave a nervous laugh but stopped shortly. Francis leaned down close to my ear, which was not that far, since he was only a few inches taller than me. "You haven't kissed me yet," he whispered, and a shiver ran down my body.

He was doing it again. Whispering those sweet nothings, and charming me with his boyish smiles. I shouldn't let it affect me. I shouldn't give him a dime of my attention. But like a fool, even after such a long time, my body warmed up at his closeness. I cannot let this happen again, I chastised myself. After he had left, it had been difficult for me to put myself together. More so when I had been determined to not let anyone show my weakness.

Even when my few friends believed we had had a messy breakup, it wasn't so. We had resolved our issues with patience and understanding. He had to go back to France, and with our busy school life, we had agreed that long distance relationship wouldn't work for us.

But here he was, shaking and riling up those long-buried feelings again.

Unable to help myself, I joked, "It's not the right time, sugar."

The use of his old nickname, a word we had been so familiar to, brought a smile to his lips.

A loud cough compelled me to look back, and I turned, facing Brandon. He leaned against the counter for support, his eyebrows raised, and his expression curious. Heat crept up my cheeks as I realised that Francis and I had been wrapped in our own bubble this whole time.

Time for awkward introductions.

"Oh. Francis, I would like you to meet Brandon." I gestured toward him, and Brandon gave him a nod. "Brandon this is, um, my friend, Francis."

Francis frowned, not satisfied with my introduction. He shot a small smile at Brandon, and in a dismissing tone added, "Nice to meet you. If you don't mind, I'll be borrowing her for a while."

I tried to protest, but he pulled me out of the kitchen and the cafe, leaving a perplexed and confused Brandon behind. My mother waved at me as I went out. Her expression was a mix between happiness and confusion. She gave me a thumbs-up. I shook my head at her and her enthusiasm to see me out. We always had contradicting ideas, but I knew she meant well.

"Hey, wait up! Where are we going?" I pulled at his arm when we had walked a sufficient distance away from the cafe.

"Down to the beach, of course," he murmured, the familiar glint back in his eyes.

"Oh." It had been our place. We had spent our whole summer swimming and goofing around at the beach. Roaming around with no care in the world. But it was also the place when we had said our final goodbyes.
"By the way, when are you going to stop calling me sugar?" he asked me, a dreamy smile on his face.