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“Perfect.”
It’s a lovely, rainy day, but the cafe he chose is a few minutes away on foot. I didn’t bring an umbrella because I’m not sure I own one. I’ve always loved the rain enough to sacrifice my hair and makeup just to feel it on my face.
He has one, because when isn't he prepared for anything? I’m nervous when he offers to share it with me, but grateful. Nervous, because my shoulder brushes his arm as we walk under it together. Grateful, because I don’t want to look like a drenched mess when I sit across from him for the duration of lunch.
The busy downtown street is noisy enough that we don’t really talk on our way there. It’s not an awkward lack of conversation either, it’s calm. Peaceful. Our walk is filled with music from the shops we pass, and tires on wet pavement.
I’m grateful that I’m kept from having to look at him, because something tells me I’d be tempted to kiss him again.
Only because the rain makes everything romantic,notbecause I want to complicate things any further than they are. Obviously.
I’ve never been to this place he takes me, and I think it’s fairly new. The small building is warm and inviting, and the smells of coffee and bacon invade my nose as soon as we step inside. It’s a little too crowded for my taste, but he doesn’t seem to mind as much as I do. He leads the way past the sign that tells us to seat ourselves. We weave through the packed tables to a single empty booth that I hadn’t noticed in my initial scan of the room.
Fresh cut marigolds sit in a small vase on our table. Fairy lights hang down like icicles above us. I think I love this place already.
Things start out easily enough. I ask him about his week, he asks about mine. It helps me put my guard down, and hope that maybe we can just move forward without looking back.
Until he sighs.
I fidget with the strap of my purse, a small way to ground myself in preparation of this conversation.
“Can I make this awkward for a minute?”
I hold my menu up with my free hand. “Already? Before food?”
His responding smile is gorgeous.
“Yeah. I’d rather get it out of the way.”
He props his elbow up on the table, and it gives him the reach he needs to scratch the back of his neck. As if he’s nervous, which is afantasticsign.
“We should talk about the other night.” He can’t meet my eyes and I don’t blame him. I’m doing a pretty good job of faking confidence by being able to look at him right now. “About the kiss.” Those three words come out on an exhale, like it took too much for him to say them.
But he glances at my lips once they’re out, and I don't even think he realizes it. My pulse begins to thrum loudly in my ears.
What I wouldn’t give to be in his mind right now.
“Okay, yeah. We should.”
Our adorable waitress— her name tag says Naomi— has terrible timing. She drops off a couple of waters and takes our drink orders. Of course, I get a coffee. Considering we haven’t looked at the menu yet, we have an excuse to think about what we want to say for a couple of minutes.
I deserve an award for staying calm.
Only when Naomi cheerily jots down what we’re having to eat and takes our menus, does Miles look at me again. His smile seems sad, strained.
I really hope this doesn’t hurt.
“I like that we’re friends, A. I don’t want anything to be messed up between us.”
I nod a couple too many times.
“Of course. Me too.”
“This week has been weird. I kept my distance because I was figuring out how to say this.”
I keep nodding.
“You’re…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I think it’s obvious there’s attraction here. It could be easy for something like that to… accidentally happen again. Maybe we should come up with some ground rules.”
