“I’m not nervous.”
Nicole bursts out laughing.“Vanessa, you alphabetize your skincare when you’re anxious.”
“I like organization.”
“You color-coded your bookshelf after he texted you.”
“That was unrelated.”
“Sure.”
I shake my head, but she’s grinning now and somehow it shakes some of the nerves free.This feels normal.Easy.Like maybe I’m allowed to want this without immediately questioning my own judgment.
Nicole’s expression softens again after a moment.“Just be careful with yourself.”
The teasing fades enough for the concern underneath to show through.Not judgment.
Not even a warning.Just letting me know she cares.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”She tilts her head slightly.“That’s the problem.”
Before I can answer, my phone buzzes against the counter beside me.One new message.Hayden.
Here.
And just like that, my stomach flips.The message shouldn’t affect me the way it does.
It’s one word.Simple and direct.Completely Hayden.And somehow my pulse still stumbles over itself.
Nicole watches my expression shift through the screen and immediately points at me.“Oh, there it is again.”
“Shut up.”I defend through a smile as I grab my coat off the back of the chair.“I have to go.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I absolutely am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
I end the FaceTime before she can say anything else, though her laughter follows me right up until the screen goes dark.
“Traitor,” I mutter at my phone.
Vinny looks up from his spot on the couch, entirely uninterested in my emotional crisis.
I take one last glance in the mirror near the door, smoothing a hand over the front of my sweater before immediately catching myself.Get it together.It’s coffee.Not a life-altering event.
The second I step outside, cold October air wraps around me sharp enough to sting my eyes.The city feels quieter on Sunday mornings; traffic thinner, sidewalks crowded more with joggers and couples carrying paper coffee cups instead of tourists and business people.
The café sits exactly where I said it would, tucked beside a small independent bookstore next to the museum.Warm light spills through the front windows, the inside crowded with worn leather chairs, dark wood tables, and the smell of espresso strong enough to settle deep in my nostrils before I even step through the door.
And then I see him.He’s standing near the back corner with one hand wrapped around a coffee cup, dark charcoal sweater pulled over broad shoulders, sleeves shoved halfway up his forearms.Faded, but crisp jeans.Boots.Casual in a way Hayden almost never used to be.
It catches me off guard slightly.So does the fact that he’s already watching the door.Like he’s been waiting specifically for me to walk through it.His expression changes the second our eyes meet.Not dramatically.Hayden would never allow dramatic.But something in him visibly eases, tension slipping loose beneath the surface with a subtlety most people probably wouldn’t notice.
But I do.Because I always did.And God help me, he’s still devastatingly attractive.Older now.Sharper around the edges.More self-contained somehow.But still him.Still the man capable of pulling every ounce of oxygen from a room just by looking at me too long.
