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Perched on a bench, lost in thought, wrapped in another oversized sweater and leggings, her signature pom-pom beanie atop her head.
Debating whether to approach her lasts only a moment. Slowing to a jog, I head her way, pulling out my earbuds.
"Good morning," I greet her, slowing to a walk.
She jumps slightly, then smiles warmly as she recognizes me.
"Hey! Good morning," she greets back.
Her smile is contagious, but I resist, scanning the park behind her instead.
"Runner too?" I gesture towards her outfit.
"Uh, no. Came here to sketch," she says, nodding to the red notebook in her lap.
"Sketching? That's interesting. What kind?"
"Just my own little fantasy world. It's my escape," Lacey explains, shrugging.
"I get that. Running's mine," I concede, smiling genuinely this time.
Glancing back, I note the park's sparse early morning crowd.
"It's not too early to head to my place. We're meeting in an hour anyway, and I've got coffee."
Lacey squints up. "I'll grab an iced vanilla latte from that cafe we hit yesterday. They're opening soon."
"My housekeeper Carrigan makes a mean latte. She could whip one up for you."
"Thanks, but I prefer the cafe's," she says, returning to her sketching.
I sigh, hoping we're unnoticed. Lacey, unbothered, continues her drawing.
"Look, I'm not trying to be that guy, but it's not safe here alone," I persist.
"You really swear by your housekeeper's coffee, huh?" she teases, not looking up.
"It's not about the coffee. This park can be sketchy."
"Or... join me at the cafe. I'll order. We'll wait," she suggests, finally looking up, amusement in her green eyes. "Then I'll go wherever you'd like."
I glance down at my shirtless state. "I'm not exactly cafe-ready."
"The baristas won't mind," she assures, standing and giving a quick glance at my chest. "Shall we?"
Suddenly, she's walking off toward the street. I grind my teeth, then pull my cap down over my sweaty hair and follow her, ignoring the curious glances from passersby.
Ten minutes later, I'm tucked into a corner of a hippie-style cafe while Lacey orders. She's right—no one bats an eye at the shirtless guy in the low-brimmed cap.
With a smile and dollar bills in hand, she slides into the seat opposite me, dropping the money I let her borrow back into my palm. "Thanks for the coffee money," she grins.
I grunt, tugging my hat lower. "Least I could do, considering you've got me freezing my nipples off in here."
"Is the A/C really that cold?"
"Nope. My nipples are always hard enough to cut glass."
Lacey laughs loudly, drawing a few glances. I dip my head.
