And I…I hate storms.
I clear my throat, my voice higher than usual. “Well, uh, this was fun. Good handshake. Solid…fingers. Okay. Bye.”
I tug my hand free and step back, face flaming. But just as I turn to make my escape, his fingers wrap gently but firmly around my wrist.
I suck in a breath as he pulls me toward him. I nearly stumble into his chest, caught by surprise. He smells like leather and vanilla frosting, which is unfairly good.
“Have coffee with me,” he says, like it’s not a question at all.
I mean, it doesn’t sound like a question. But it’s not quite a command either. He acts like he already knows I’m going to say yes.
And the craziest thing? A tiny part of me wants to.
Which is absurd.
I open my mouth, but nothing coherent comes out. I should say no. Step back. Apologize for the weirdness and return to my friends with my dignity intact. But I just stand there, heart racing, caught between curiosity and caution.
“I…” I pause, blinking up at him. “I can’t. I mean, thank you, but I’m here with my friends. It’s a girls’ trip, and we’ve got plans.”
His gaze shifts, just briefly, over my shoulder to where the girls are clearly watching us. Olivia is grinning like a lunatic. Harper has both thumbs up like she’s coaching me from the sidelines.
His eyes come back to mine, and there’s something playful in his expression now.
“I don’t think they’d mind,” he says, voice low.
My laugh is a breathy and nervous sound. “I should probably check.”
For a second, when I try to step back, he doesn’t let go. Not in a controlling way, more like he’s trying to decide something. His eyes search mine, and it’s like he sees more than I want him to. My hesitation. My curiosity. My heart that is still bruised from the last time I took a chance.
Then, slowly, he lets go.
The absence of his hand is immediate. Sharp. Like stepping into cool air after being out in the scorching sun all day.
I exhale as I turn away, not sure if I’m coming back. But the thought of never seeing him again slams into me like a warning. It’s absurd—I don’t even know his name—but something in me rebels at the idea of walking away. It feels like I’ve stumbled into a chapter I was always meant to read, and if I close it now, I’ll never find my way back to it.
I weave back through the crowd, my pulse still racing, the heat of his hand lingering against mine. By the time I reach our table, both girls are watching me like they’re about to demand every detail, down to the punctuation. Harper narrows her eyes in suspicion, tilting her chin as if she’s trying to read every detail on my face. Olivia’s fingers drum against her glass, restless energy radiating off her as she leans forward, lips pressed tight to keep from blurting something first.
I stop in front of them, feeling their curiosity wrap around me.
“He wants to take me for coffee.” The words feel surreal as they leave my lips.
Harper smacks the table with both hands. “Go!”
Olivia, the ever cautious one, blinks at me. “Wait, seriously? Ivy, we don’t even know this guy.”
“Shut up, Olivia,” Harper says, rolling her eyes.
“Fine,” Olivia huffs, crossing her arms. “Coffee is…acceptable. But keep your phone in your hand, not in your purse. And text us every five minutes.”
“You don’t have to text us,” Harper says, her voice softer now. She reaches across the table, placing her hand over mine, which brings out her maternal side. “Just keep your phone close. But mostly? Just…have fun. You deserve it.”
I glance between them, my heart fluttering like I’m fifteen again. Part of me wants to retreat into the safety of my comfort zone and lock the door. But another part—restless, unfamiliar, a little reckless—is already standing, ready to see what happens next.
I hesitate for just a beat longer, then glance back toward him.
He’s still standing exactly where I left him, hands tucked in his pockets and his eyes locked on mine.
Like he was just waiting for me to walk up and grab his hand all day.
