Ryan Michele

Every day like clockwork I entered into Fallon's Bakery. Coffee. That was what I told myself. I was just coming for coffee. It had absolutely nothing to do with the woman who always had flour on her face, her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, and a wide smile to greet every single person who entered the store. Even for me. The man who ripped out her heart and walked away, never to look back. I was an a$$hole. I'd thought I'd done it for...