𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 ⤷ JAMIE TARTT

2 - A Proposition

Obnoxiously bright socks. Black shorts that showcased his calves. A shiny black vest atop a disgustingly orange shirt and a matching crossbody bag.

Save for his hair, Jamie Tartt was still the same revolting asshole he was when they first started dating six years ago and when they broke up five years ago.

"What are you doing here?"

Kate's heart pounded against her chest, that icky anxious feeling crawling across her skin. Get out, she should have said.

It wasn't the worst break up per say, but could any departure from your first love be amicable?

"Well, I was hoping for three dozen jam tarts. Oh, and I brought you flowers." He held the colorful bouquet up so she could see. A small but awkward smile on his face.

"What the fuck."

And suddenly her eyes were welling with tears, not because she was sad or touched by his actions but because she was enormously frustrated. She was annoyed and so, so mad that after all this time he thought he could just waltz in here with flowers and ask for fucking jam tarts! As if it would soothe old wounds. As if the last time they'd seen each other hadn't been a complete mess (and the reason Evan and Darcy moved in). And it absolutely sucked that when she felt like this it wasn't calm, collected venom that spit from her tongue but tears that fell from her eyes instead.

"Are you okay?" Jamie asked, and the concern in his voice only caused her more anger. He took a small step forward, but Kate had already reached for the closest thing (which happened to be a croissant) and hurled it at him. "Oi! I said I brought you flowers! Have you developed an allergy?"

She didn't stop reaching for croissants and by the time she'd gotten to the last one, crumbs and flakes were flying everywhere and Jamie was covered in buttery goodness.

"Do you feel better?" He asked, huffing and reaching for a napkin, which Kate quickly snatched from his hand. "You're being really childish right now!"

"You broke my heart!"

"And I'm here to make amends! Hence, the flowers!" Jamie made it a point to shake the bouquet he was still holding, eyes wide with disbelief. "You haven't even tried to hear me out!"

"Why are you yelling at me!" Kate said, matching his tone. "You're the one who's come into my shop after no contact for five years and made a mess!"

"I'm the one who made a mess?" Now Jamie was truly in disbelief. "You're the one throwing bread at me!"

"Because you—you scared me!"

"Alright, it was a mistake coming here. I'm—"

It was something straight out of a comedy skit. Jamie turned around and headed for the door, only for his foot to meet untimely demise with a croissant. It was cartoonish, really, the way he fell. Straight back, landing with a loud thud and an immediate groan.

Kate made a noise of surprise, covering her mouth out of shock, before bursting into laughter even as he glared up at her. Because it seemed the bouquet had quite a bit of thorns and when he slipped, it clung to the front of his pants and . . .

Well, it seemed Jamie also matched his underwear to his outfit. Today, a vibrant shade of orange.