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“Your first of the morning?”

“Yes.”

“Damn, it’s late. I’d have a pounding headache by now without my first hit of caffeine.”

“Well, I only just got up. These are the last days I can sleep in before I have to start my job, so I’ve been taking advantage.”

“Totally get that,” he said as he took a sip of his espresso.

I bit into the croissant and spoke with my mouth full. “How was your date last night?”

“Not bad,” he said as he took a bite.

“I caught a glimpse as you were seeing her off this morning.” I paused, wiping some foam off the rim of my cup. “Have you been dating for a while?”

“Not at all. Just a couple of times so far.” He licked the corner of his mouth. “Her name is Cara.”

“Pretty.”

“She’s an actress…on Broadway.”

Figures. “Very cool.” After an awkward pause, I asked, “Do you see things going anywhere with her?”

He took a moment to think about it. “I like her a lot, but…”

“But what?” I asked, a little too invested in his answer.

“I don’t really want anything serious right now. Not sure what her expectations are, you know? It’s still early. But she’s a nice person. And we have chemistry. So, we’ll see what happens.”

I nodded and looked out the window in time to see a car trying to parallel park bump into the car behind it.

Rafe interrupted my daze. “How did Calder like his meatloaf?”

I turned to him and chuckled. “You mean the one I almost burned?”

“Yeah.” He rested his chin in his hand.

“He loved it. We had a nice dinner.”

“Cool. I remember having a lot of nice dinners at Calder’s family’s house growing up. His mom was a great cook.”

“What about your mom?” I asked.

“She was an okay cook, but once she married my stepfather…” Rafe shifted in his seat. “Well, after that I really hated being home, so it didn’t matter what she made. I never wanted to stick around long enough to eat it.”

“Can I ask what happened to your biological father?”

“You can ask, but I might not tell you.” He winked. “Kidding.” He sighed, and his smile faded. “My real dad died in a car accident when I was four.”

My chest tightened. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. I don’t remember him much.” He looked down into his coffee cup and smiled sadly. “I look like him, though.”

He must’ve been stunning. “It must be hard to not remember him clearly,” I said. “I have a voicemail from my dad on my phone. I listen to it every few days because I’m afraid I’m going to forget the sound of his voice someday.”

Rafe’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry you lost your dad. If you ever want to tell someone about him, even just say his name out loud, I’m your guy. I get it.”

“Thank you.”