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Neutral Zone: Chapter 18

ROSIE

For the second time in as many months, I didn’t show up to work. This time, I ditched for an entire week.

I have no clue how, but I still have a job. Either Scout is way cooler than I’ve ever given her credit for, or she’s really that hard up for a decent baker.

When I finally drag myself into the donut truck a few days after Thanksgiving, I walk right into chaos.

“Oh, hey!” Stevie says from her position on the floor. “Watch where you step. I dropped some sprinkles, and that damn replacement cold brew pitcher snapped on me.” She shakes her head. “What are the odds, right?”

Pretty slim, but I’m not surprised things are all screwed up. That seems to be the theme in my life nowadays. When I went to get dressed this morning—the first time I changed out of my pajamas in days—I discovered a hole in the thigh of my favorite jeans, and when I went to put my hair up in my usual messy bun, my ponytail holder broke in half.

Everything is messed up.

“Do you need to run and grab some supplies?”

“No need,” a voice says from behind me.

I turn to find Scout walking into the truck, two bags in each hand. They’re filled with everything we’ll need to get us through the day.

“Rosie, glad you could make it in.” She raises a pointed brow.

I grimace, guilt eating at me instantly. “Hi.”

“Here.” She shoves a fresh container of sprinkles at me. “Refill these, then get to work on icing the strawberry donuts.”

Just hearing the word strawberry has my stomach dropping to the floor. Oh, look—there it is right next to Stevie as she continues scrubbing up the mess.

“On it, boss.” I drop my head as I shuffle past her. I wash my hands, then pull on my gloves and get started on my tasks. The three of us work quietly for the next few hours as we open the truck and work through the line that’s stretched to the parking lot.

Finally, at ten, we get a break. Scout sets the Be Right Back sign on the front counter, then spins in my direction.

“We need to talk.” Her voice is terse, and it immediately sets me on edge.

Here it comes. I’m getting fired.

“Grab a drink and meet me out front.”

I nod and take all the time in the world pouring myself a fresh cold brew. I should really opt for water since I don’t remember the last time I had any, but if I’m getting fired, I’m going down with one last delicious drink in my hand, not water.

When I exit the truck, that sour feeling in my stomach worsens when I see Scout and Stevie sitting at the picnic table, each with a frown on her lips.

Yeah, I’m totally screwed.

I suck in a deep breath and shove my shoulders back, holding my head up high as I make my way over. I settle onto the bench across from them and fold my hands around my cup, holding on to it like an anchor.

“Before you say anything, I just wanted to tell you what an honor it’s been working here. I appreciate this opportunity you’ve given me, and it has meant more to me than you’ll ever know. The friends I’ve made…the people I’ve met…” I swallow back the lump in my throat because people includes him. “I’m grateful. So damn grateful. I’m sorry I’ve let you down, and I completely understand why we’re having this meeting.”

Scout and Stevie look over at one another with furrowed brows for several seconds before turning back to me.

“Do you?” Scout asks. “Do you understand why we’re having this meeting?”

“Well, yeah. I’m getting fired.”

Stevie’s brows shoot up. “Is that what you think?”

“Yes?” It comes out as a question because I have no clue what’s going on. “Am I not?”

“Um, no. We love you. We’d never fire you.”

“But I…I ditched work for the last week. Aren’t you mad about that?”

Scout shrugs. “Sometimes the things happening in our lives are more important than someone getting their donut fix in the morning.”

Is she serious? I’m not fired?

“We actually wanted to talk to you about something we heard.”

Now my stomach sinks for a whole different reason, because the only thing this could be about is…

“You want to open your own bakery.”

I physically lean back because What?

“How did you hear about that?” I ask.

“Macie.”

Oh god. When she was over at Fitz’s meeting Carl, we talked about me opening my own bakery. I should have known she would say something to her mom.

“Oh. That.”

“Yeah, that.” Scout stretches a hand across the table and grabs mine, the one that’s currently fiddling with the straw in my cup. She stills my panic fidgeting and gives my hand a squeeze. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

I lift a shoulder. “I…I don’t know. I was scared, I guess. You two have done so much for me and given me such an amazing opportunity… It just felt like I was throwing all that back in your face by wanting to start my own place.”

Scout shakes her head. “No. Not even close. Rosie…” She sighs. “You’re an incredible baker. Way better than me. This place, as much as I love it—it’s not enough for you, and that’s okay. I knew that after the first week I hired you. I knew you wouldn’t stay forever, and I never expected you to. I want to see you flourish. I want to see you grow. And more than that, I want to be the first damn customer in whatever shop you open.”

I blink back the tears stinging my eyes because I wasn’t expecting that at all. “You do? You’d come to my bakery?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I? I mean, you don’t get an ass that don’t quit like mine by not eating delicious sweets.”

I laugh. It feels so foreign after not doing it for days, but it’s good. So good.

“And if you think for one second I won’t be coming to get some of those delicious peanut butter caramel cookies you sent home with Greer and Macie, you’re nuts. Those were easily the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted. Greer got jealous of them because I kept moaning every time I ate one and he was very threatened by it.”

“Why can I totally see that from him?”

Stevie shrugs. “Because it’s such a Greer thing to do. He’s annoying like that.” She might roll her eyes, but the smile on her face says she finds it anything but annoying.

And just like that, all the laughter inside me dies because I had something like that before, but now…now I’m scared it’s gone.

“Uh-oh.” Scout squeezes my hand again. “Have you still not talked to Fitz?”

Just hearing his name has my heart hammering in my chest like I’ve just run a marathon. God, I miss him so much. I want to talk to him so badly, but I don’t know where to start. I don’t know how to explain what I’m feeling because I still don’t know what I’m feeling.

I shake my head. “No. I don’t know what to say.”

“I mean, telling him you love him is usually a good start,” she suggests.

I don’t even bother trying to deny it because I do love Fitz. So damn much. That’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of, and that’s not my problem at all.

My problem is me.

I don’t feel like I know who I am anymore, and I’m honestly not even sure I ever did. One run-in with Levi and I slipped right back into everything I promised I’d never be again. All it did was show me that even though I try so hard to act tough and badass, I’m still just a scared little girl who is afraid to stand up for herself. As much as I tried, I don’t think I ever got rid of the old me, not with so many old wounds left open and unhealed.

“You do love him, right?” Scout asks.

“Yes. I love Fitz. Like I’m madly in love with him and am going mildly crazy without him kind of love him.”

“Then…what’s the problem?”

“Me,” I reply honestly.

She gives me a sad smile. “I know how you feel.”

“You do?”

She nods. “Yeah. I kind of went through the same thing with Miller. It was never that I didn’t love him, but I didn’t love me. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I’d been trying so hard and throwing myself into my work and everything else that I lost who I was somewhere along the way. Being with Miller woke me up to the fact that I was missing something, and it wasn’t just him. I was missing me. Is that how you’re feeling?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly it.” I run my tongue over my drying lips. “That’s how I feel. I’ve tried so hard over the last few years to make myself feel good and, honestly, I thought I was doing fine. With my photos and my streaming and going to school…those are all things I wanted to do, and all those things made me feel good. But now…now I don’t know. Did I just do them because they were the exact opposite of what I was told to do, or did I do them because I really wanted to, you know?”

Neither of them says anything, and that’s fine. I’m not sure I want them to say anything. I’m not sure what answer I’m looking for. Maybe I just need to vent a bit.

“Can I ask you something?” Stevie says after a few minutes of silence.

“I’ve just spilled my guts to you, so I guess.”

“Why do you stream?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your streams, your late-night activities—why do you do it? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think you’re badass for it, but why?”

“I…”

All my usual reasons are right there on the tip of my tongue, but for the first time, they don’t feel right.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I think maybe because I liked feeling seen. I liked feeling wanted. I liked feeling…free. And yes, it made me feel good—sexy. It made me feel like I was a bad bitch with a banging body people actually wanted to look at, and it certainly opened up a whole new side of me sexually. But more than that, it made me feel seen.”

“How does Fitz make you feel?”

“Seen.”

The answer is automatic like it’s been right there in front of me the entire time. Fitz makes me feel seen, and I don’t just mean because he enjoys watching me.

It’s more than that. He listens to me. He values my opinion. He asks me questions about myself. He encourages me to make my own decisions. He makes me feel like an actual human and not just a missing piece of whatever puzzle he’s trying to put together.

That’s how my parents made me feel—like an obligation, something they had to do, which is probably why they had my whole life mapped out for me when I was still in the womb.

Then with Levi, it was the same way. He was the one who planted the seed of me moving out of my parents’ place and ditching their college plans for me. He was the one who told me who was good enough for me, who told me what I liked and what I didn’t. He was the one who kept me tethered to him just enough that I felt like we had an actual chance of being together when I was always just a backup plan for him.

Then he left, and for the first time in a long time, I was alone. So, I threw myself into anything and everything I could to make myself feel desired again. I changed my clothes, my hair, and hell, my entire attitude because it was what I thought everyone else wanted.

But it wasn’t, and I don’t even know if it’s what I really wanted.

Maybe…maybe this whole time, what I needed was to give myself permission to love…well, myself.

“How did you fix it?” I ask Scout. “Because this is awful. I want to be with him so badly, but I also want…”

“To fix what’s broken, and you know you can’t fix it by burying yourself in him?”

I nod. “Exactly.”

“As much as it sucks to hear…time. I took time for myself, and I figured out what I wanted. I figured out who I was. After I did what I needed, I went to him, and the rest worked itself out.”

She says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and perhaps it is.

“For what it’s worth,” Stevie says, “I think you’re a lot closer to that than you give yourself credit for. I think maybe this thing with your ex-best friend coming back into your life has you all messed up. Maybe that’s a chapter you need to end properly before you can move on to the next.”

“Hey!” Scout scowls at her sister. “I’m the author—book metaphors are my thing.” She looks over at me. “But Stevie has a point. Talking with him might be a good place to start.”

As much as I don’t want to talk to Levi, they might be right.

“Thank you—both of you. I have no idea what I’d do without you in my life. You’re kind of my best friends.”

“Then next time, maybe tell your best friends you’re thinking of ditching them for your own bakery?” Scout narrows her eyes but squeezes my hand to let me know she’s only teasing.

I chuckle. “I will. Besides, it’s not something that will happen for several years still. I have plenty of time left here to drive you crazy.”

“And we wouldn’t change that for anything.” Stevie reaches across the table, grabs my other hand, and squeezes it. “Now, as much as we love you and want you here, you look like you haven’t slept in days, so…”

“Go home and get proper rest?”

“Please. I don’t need you scaring away all my customers. I need all the regulars I can get before my competition heats up.” Scout winks at me. “And I’m heading out too. I have to take Mooseknuckle to the vet.”

“Who is Mooseknuckle?”

“Oh! Our new dog.” She pulls up her phone and shows me a picture of an adorable little gray puppy. “I let Miller name her.”

I lift a brow. “You don’t say.”

I look over at Stevie, who is rolling her eyes at her sister.

She rises from the bench with a shrug. “Love does crazy things to you.”

And don’t I know it.

“So, what are you going to do?” Stevie asks as Scout heads for the truck.

“I think…” I sigh. “I think I need to have a talk with my former best friend.”


“Roly-Poly Rosie!” I hear from across the room.

I turn in my chair to find Levi strutting into Cup of Joe’s coffee shop like he owns the place. When he reaches the table, he tries to give me a hug, but I thwart his advances, moving away from his outstretched arms.

“Aw, come on, Roly.” He laughs it off, taking the seat across from me. “You know you missed me.”

The sad thing is, he’s right. A small part of me did miss Levi. I missed all the fun we used to have as kids. All the mud pies we made, all the times we hung out in his treehouse, him tossing that damn football against the wall and me reading a romance novel I’d snuck from his mom’s stash. I missed his parents, and I missed the way he used to make me laugh.

But even though I missed all that, there’s so much more that I didn’t miss at all. Honestly, it makes me wonder what the hell I was thinking when I thought I was in love with him.

“So, Roly, how ya been? I can’t believe it’s been so many years. How are things?” He looks down at the plate in front of me, which is empty save for a few crumbs from my caramel apple pie. “I see you’re as big a fan of sweets as ever. Scarfed that one down, huh?”

He laughs, but there’s nothing funny about what he just said.

“I didn’t really come here for pleasantries, Levi.”

His thick brows inch closer together. “Then what did you want to meet for?”

“Honestly? I want to tell you I don’t love you, and I never did.”

“Um…okay? I—”

“No.” I sit forward. “I’m going to do the talking here, understood?”

He sits up straight. His eyes are wide, and he nods once.

“Once upon a time, I thought you hung the moon and I was madly in love with you. You were my best friend, and you were a good guy—or so I thought. Now that I’ve had distance and time away from you, I realize how wrong I was about all of it. You didn’t hang the moon, and I never loved you. If I had, I wouldn’t have let you talk to me the way you do. I wouldn’t have let you treat me like you always have, like I’m this poor helpless girl who needs you to tell her what to do. I wouldn’t have let you talk down to me or let you tell me I’m fat.” I scoff. “Between you and my parents, it’s a wonder I ever got away from any of it. I was so okay with all of you running my life, telling me what to do, but I never stopped to think about what I wanted.

“So, over the last two years, I did what I wanted. I built a version of myself that I like. I did boudoir shots. I took sexy photos of myself. I wore clothes that fit me. I met people who made me laugh and accepted every part of me. I learned I’m a damn good baker and friend. And more than all that, I learned that I’m worthy of being respected. I’m worth more than all those expectations and opinions other people—people like you—shoved onto me. I’m beautiful just the way I am. I’m smart, I’m capable, and I’m fucking worthy of being loved for just being me. I don’t need to bend or fold to meet anyone else’s standards, least of all yours. The only person I ever needed permission from was myself, and right now, I give myself permission to tell you I don’t want you in my life, and you have no hold over me anymore.”

I sit back when I’m finished with my speech, feeling the weight I’ve been carrying around for far too long fall off my shoulders brick by brick. For the first time in a long time, I feel free.

Levi just stares at me.

Then stares some more.

Finally, after several minutes of us sitting in silence, he speaks.

“You know, when I ran into you on Thanksgiving, I thought to myself, There’s no way that’s the same Rosie I’ve always known. And it turns out, I was right. You’re not that same person. You’re a lot stronger than you used to be, and frankly, I’m proud of you.”

“I don’t need you to be proud of me.”

He gives me that same dimpled smile I used to love, but this time, it doesn’t have the same effect. “I know.”

And he sounds…resigned, sounds okay, like he’s fine with me telling him off.

“I don’t think we would have made a good match.” His voice is low and sad and nothing like I’ve ever heard from him before. “And you’re right, I did treat you like shit. I did keep you around as a second choice. You didn’t deserve that. You deserve someone who looks at you like you hung the moon—like that guy at the grocery store did. He’s more than I could ever be to you. I might not have acted like it, but leaving you behind sucked. I can see now that was probably the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“It was,” I agree. “I know that now.”

He gives me a small smile. “Good. I’m glad.” He lets out a sigh, then pushes his chair back. “I think it’s best if I go.”

“Yeah, probably.”

He stands and peers down at me. “You know, you’ll always be my Roly-Poly Rosie, and I’ll miss all the good times we had. And…I’m sorry. Truly.”

With that, he tucks his hands into his pockets and exits the coffee shop and my life for the last time.

I’ve never felt better.


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