He shrugs, grinning. “I pay attention.”
Before I can respond, Maya pipes up, “And she drinks her coffee with two sugars and just a little bit of milk, but not too much or she says it tastes like sadness.”
Mateo bursts out laughing, and I bury my face behind the menu, trying not to smile.
“She’s not wrong,” I mumble.
A few minutes later, a waitress walks over, pen tucked behind her ear and a grin already playing on her lips.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite fireman,” Letty says, all sing-songy and syrup-sweet, like the damn pancakes. “Didn’t know you were in this morning.”
Mateo gives a polite smile. “Hey, Letty.”
Then her eyes flick to me, taking in the scene. Me across from him, Maya beside him, the easy vibe between us. Her smile falters for a blink—barely there—but she recovers fast.
“Didn’t realize you had company,” she says, sweet but sharp. “Just catching up with an old friend?”
Mateo doesn’t even blink. He reaches across the table and threads his fingers through mine. “Not exactly,” he says. “This is my girl.”
My stomach flips. Letty has only lived here for about a year, so I don’t know her very well. But from the looks of it, she’s got a thing for Mateo.
Letty’s smile tightens. “Right…well. What can I get you guys?”
Maya rattles off her order first, no hesitation: chocolate chip pancakes with extra whipped cream. Mateo goes next, but I barely hear what he says over the pounding in my chest. When it’s my turn, I answer automatically, eyes locked on Mateo’s thumb brushing slow circles against my skin.
Letty scribbles our order down, gives a final, lingering glance at Mateo, then walks away with her pride just a little bruised.
I raise an eyebrow. “Your girl?”
He smirks. “What? I’m committed to this relationship.”
I glance down at our hands—still joined across the table. “Well,” I say, schooling my expression, “you’re doing a really convincing job.”
He leans back slightly, that maddening smirk still playing on his lips. “You think so?”
I shrug. “Honestly? You’re a little too good at this. Makes me wonder how many women you’ve fake dated before.”
He lets out a low laugh. “You’re my one and only, chula. But I’ve seen enough rom-coms to know the key is confidence. And you know me, baby, I drip confidence.” He raises our joined hands and presses a light kiss against my skin.
I shake my head, trying not to laugh. “You’re ridiculous.”
He winks. “Ridiculously committed.”
The moment lingers just long enough to feel like maybe we’re playing the part a little too well.
Maya—completely zoned in on her coloring sheet—suddenly holds up her paperand announces proudly, “This is a dog, but I gave her a crown, because she’s a princess now.”
Mateo releases my hand and leans over to look. “That’s one royal pup.”
I nod, grateful she’s too focused on her crayons to notice the moment that just happened across the table.
“Queen of Pancake Kingdom,” I say, and Maya beams.
The next two hours, we eat our breakfast, Mateo hanging on Maya’s every word, laughing at her stories like she’s the funniest person he’s ever met. She is. She tells him all about her favorite princesses, how she’s going to be a ninja-clown when she grows up, but also how she wants to be a vet to help the animals, and how her teacher always saves her red jellybeans. He listens to her so intently, giving her his complete attention.
I sip my coffee, chiming in here and there, but mostly just watching them. The two of them together are loud, chaotic, and weirdly perfect. He really matches Maya’s energy,
By the time the plates are cleared and Maya’s halfway through her third crayon masterpiece, I realize I’ve smiled more this morning than I have in weeks. It’s just pretend, I remind myself as I gather my things, slide out of the booth, and thank the universe that Maya didn’t ask too many questions.
