“Angel, you what…?” Troy asked, leaning on the butcher block counter. I felt him staring, intent on my every word, even as I looked off wistfully.
“That’s pretty much it.”
“No. Get back in your time machine, Snowman!”
“Trip over.” I forced a smile. “Sometimes, when I hear the crinkle of a snack bag, I end up right back there, though.”
“Did you tell him you loved him?”
“Another day.”
“Man, that photographic memory of yours must have come in handy in school,” Troy said on his way to the register to cash out a customer who was standing there. “Ask me what I had for dinner last night.”
I had to wait for the punchline until he got back.
“No idea,” he said.
“You never forget your first kiss, right?” I took the final bite of my complimentary macaroon.
“No. You don’t.”
“Everything I eve
