3
KAMERON
Icouldn't remember the last time I'd talked this much.
Not about work. Not about schedules or inventory or which server called in sick. Real talking. The kind where you forgot to check the clock and suddenly realized hours had slipped by without you noticing.
Conner had moved from the barstool to a booth at some point, and I'd slid in across from him without really thinking about it. The coffee had gone cold, then been replaced, then gone cold again. Outside, the snow kept falling, piling up against the windows like the world was slowly disappearing.
In here, it was just us.
"So you're telling me," I said, "that you once convinced your entire crew that the captain had approved a mandatory karaoke night for team building."
"In my defense, it worked." He grinned, and something in my chest fluttered in a way I didn't want to examine. "Morale was through the roof. At least until the captain found out."
"And then?"
"Then I spent two weeks on latrine duty." He shrugged, completely unbothered. "Worth it. You should've seen Hux try tosing 'I Will Always Love You.' Changed my whole perspective on the man."
I laughed. Actually laughed, not the polite chuckle I gave customers when they made jokes I'd heard a thousand times. This one came from somewhere deeper, surprising me with how good it felt.
Conner's expression shifted when I laughed. Softened. He was looking at me the way he'd been looking at me all night—like I was something worth paying attention to. But there was something else there now. Something warmer.
I should be more careful. I knew that. This was exactly the kind of situation I'd trained myself to avoid. Alone with a charming guy, late at night, walls coming down. I'd seen how this story ended. The charm always faded once they got what they wanted.
But Conner hadn't tried anything. He'd just…talked to me. Asked questions and actually listened to the answers. Told me stories that made me laugh. Let the silences sit without rushing to fill them.
It was disarming in a way I hadn't expected.
"What about you?" he asked. "What's the most trouble you've ever gotten into?"
"I don't get into trouble. I'm the one who prevents it."
"That's not an answer."
I traced my finger around the rim of my coffee mug, buying time. The honest answer was embarrassing. The honest answer revealed more about me than I usually let anyone see.
"I've never really done anything wild," I admitted. "I was always the responsible one. Good grades, sensible choices, early curfews I set for myself because my parents never bothered." I shrugged. "Boring, I know."
"That's not boring. That’s…” He paused, searching for the word. "Lonely, maybe."
The accuracy of it hit deep. I looked up at him, and the teasing glint was gone from his eyes. He was just watching me, steady and serious.
"Yeah," I said quietly. "Sometimes."
The snow was still falling outside. I could hear the wind picking up, howling around the corners of the building. But in here, in this booth, everything felt still. Suspended. Like we'd stepped outside of normal time and the usual rules didn't apply.
Maybe that's why I said what I said next. "I've never done this before."
Conner tilted his head. "Had coffee with a firefighter during a blizzard? I'd imagine not. Pretty specific scenario."
"That's not what I mean."
He went quiet. Waiting. Not pushing, just giving me space to find the words.
"I've never…” I took a breath. This was insane. I barely knew this man. But something about the way he looked at me made me feel like I could say anything. "I've never been with anyone. At all."
The confession hung in the air between us. I watched his face for the reaction I expected—surprise, maybe, or that predatory gleam guys got when they realized they had a chance to be someone's first.
