The break room is barely more than a closet—a row of dented lockers along one wall, a coffee maker that never gets cleaned, and a bulletin board layered in old schedules. I’m at my locker, tying my apron behind my back, already in my uniform, when the door swings open without warning.
“Tell me you’re emotionally prepared today,” Freddie says as he steps in, already grinning like he knows something I don’t.
I glance at him over my shoulder, trying to keep my expression neutral even as my stomach tightens. “For what?”
He leans against the lockers, arms crossed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Your daily dose of danger, obviously. Tall, dark, and looks-like-he-could-ruin-your-life is back.”
My fingers pause on the apron strings for just a second before I force myself to finish the knot like that didn’t affect me. “You say that about every man who walks in here with a jawline.”
Freddie scoffs. “Please. I have standards. That man is not just a jawline. That man is a whole situation.”
I roll my eyes, smoothing the apron down over my hips. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I’m being observant,” he corrects smoothly. “Also, he’s always staring at you.”
That does it. My heart skips, just one quick, traitorous beat. I turn back to my locker before Fred can see anything on my face. “He’s a customer. Customers look at the staff. That’s…normal.”
Freddie lets out a low hum, clearly unconvinced. “Mm. Not like that, sweetheart, and you know it.”
“Freddie.”
“What? I’m serious. It’s intense. If I weren’t so secure in my preferences, I’d be concerned for myself.”
Despite myself, I let out a small laugh, shaking my head as I grab my name tag from the shelf and pin it into place. “You’re ridiculous.”
I shut my locker and brush past him toward the door. “Go on, Nora. Your mysterious boyfriend awaits,” he calls after me.
“He’s not my…” I start, but the words die in my throat as I step out onto the café floor.
Because he’s there.
Of course he is.
Sitting in his usual spot in the corner, back to the wall. Like he needs to see everything happening in the room at all times. One arm rests loosely on the table, while the other is draped over the back of the chair like he owns the space without even trying.
He looks exactly the same as every other day. And somehow, it still catches me off guard.
Dark hair, a little too long, falling slightly over his forehead in a way that should look careless but doesn’t. Sharp jaw, shadowed with stubble that makes him look older than he probably is. His shoulders are broad, stretching the fabric of his plain black T-shirt.
And even sitting down, there’s something…solid about him. Grounded. Dangerous in a quiet, controlled way. But it’s his eyes that always get me. Steel gray-blue eyes. The kind that feel like they see right through you. And right now…they’re on me.
My breath stutters for half a second before I force myself to move. I step behind the counter like this is just another shift, just another customer, just another day.
It’s not. It hasn’t been since the first time he walked in here. I didn’t care about men before him. Not really. I mean, I noticed them, sure. I’m not blind. But it was always…distant. Like watching something that didn’t have anything to do with me.
Then he walked in. And suddenly everything felt…closer. Sharper. Too real.
He’s been coming in nearly every day for weeks now. He doesn’t talk at all, but he watches. Always watching. Not in a creepy way. Just…focused. Like I’m something he’s trying to figure out. Freddie thinks it means something. I don’t know what to think.
But I do know one thing. On the days he doesn’t show up, the café feels…off. Quieter. Colder. Like something’s missing. And I hate that I’ve noticed that.
I grab a notepad, even though I already know his order, and walk toward his table, trying to ignore the way my pulse picks up with every step.
“Hi,” I say, keeping my voice as steady as I can. “What can I get for you today?”
For a second, he just looks at me. And it feels like everything else in the room fades out.
“Coffee,” he says finally. His voice is low, rough around the edges in a way that sends a little shiver down my spine. “Two sugars.”
