At one point, he brushed a crumb from his lip, and my gaze followed the motion before I could stop it.
He caught me looking and just smirked, that little flash of heat sparking between us again.
Yeah. The chemistry was still there. No denying it. Still, I tried to keep my head. We were here to talk about the set, not to rekindle whatever that night had been.
Still, it was hard to ignore the way his eyes lingered, or how good it felt when our laughter overlapped.
When the check came, I hesitated. I wanted to offer to pay. It would be a small gesture that might saythis mattered to me.But maybe that was too much, too soon.
Zack glanced up. “Split it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Split it.”
We left some cash on the table and stepped back outside. The air was cool, clean after what must’ve been a light rain. The streetlights reflected in small puddles along the sidewalk.
For a second, neither of us spoke. The quiet between us was easy, comfortable. I shoved my hands in my jacket.
“Hey, uh… didn’t you say you live nearby?” I asked.
Zack nodded. “A few blocks down.”
“Mind if I walk you home? It’s late, and I could use the air,” I told him.
He smiled, teasing. “You sure it’s just about the air?”
I laughed. “Maybe not. But I’m trying to be polite.”
Zack shook his head, smiling as he started walking. “Alright. Walk me home.”
We fell into step side by side, shoulders brushing now and then. The town felt quieter here, like it belonged only to us. We talked about old gigs, terrible motels, favorite songs.
Zack told me about a disastrous festival show where the sound system blew mid-set, and I nearly doubled over laughing. I told him about sneaking into open mics with a fake ID at seventeen.
At one point, his hand brushed mine. Neither of us pulled away.
After a few seconds, his fingers twined with mine. Just like that, it was easy and natural. My chest went tight in a good way.
We reached his building sooner than I wanted. It was a small brick place with ivy creeping up the walls, warm light spilling from the entryway.
“Well,” he said, turning to me, “this is me.”
“Guess so.” I didn’t let go of his hand right away.
“Thanks for dinner,” Zack said softly. “I had a good time.”
“Me too,” I said.
The air between us felt thick with something unsaid, that fragile space right before gravity wins. Zack’s gaze flicked to my mouth, then back to my eyes, lingering there.
I could almost hear the hitch in his breath.
“You gonna stare all night, or…?” he started, voice teasing.
I didn’t let him finish. I leaned in, closing the last few inches. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move.
Then his hand came up, fingers curling lightly against my jaw, and he met me halfway.
The kiss started slow and searching. The kind that made the world fall away a little. His lips were warm, tasting faintly of syrup and coffee and something that was just him.
