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Twelve fifty-two.

Looks like I’m here first.

I step into line, already knowing what I’m ordering.

“Can I get a hot white mocha with two pumps of caramel,” I tell the barista, “and an iced caramel latte?”

“Anything else?”

“No, that’s it.”

She slides the receipt across the counter.

“Name?”

“Luke.”

A few minutes later my name is called.

I grab both drinks, balancing one in each hand before making my way toward the corner seating area off to the left.

If Olivia is anything like she texts, she’ll probably appreciate somewhere away from the crowd.

I round the corner.

And stop.

She’s already there.

She looks up at the sound of my boots against the floor.

Our eyes meet.

Then her gaze drops to the drinks in my hands.

Mine drops to the drinks in front of her.

Neither of us says anything for a few seconds.

Then she starts laughing.

“You had the same idea?”

She nods, still laughing. “I was literally about to text you.”

She stands as I reach the table, smoothing her sweater.

For a second, neither of us says anything.

We’re both smiling. Just…taking each other in.

Her pictures didn’t quite do her justice.

Long blonde hair falls over one shoulder, warm brown eyes meeting mine without looking away. She isn’t hiding behind a phone screen anymore.

“So...” we both say at the exact same time.

She laughs. “So you’re a real person.”