He grabbed his jacket, the good one, not his everyday one, and headed out, trying not to think about all the ways this could go wrong.
Sophie's Café sat on the corner of Main and Oak, its windows already fogged slightly from the warmth inside contrasting with the cold March afternoon. Mac arrived at 1:55 PM, exactly five minutes early as instructed, and immediately second-guessed his choice of table three times before settling on a corner spot with good lighting where they could talk without the whole town listening in.
The café was moderately busy with the Saturday afternoon crowd, couples lingering over late lunch, a few people working on laptops, Mrs. Britton from the store meeting with friends. Soft indie music played from the speakers, mixing with the hiss of the espresso machine and the low murmur of conversation.
Sophie appeared almost immediately, as if she'd been waiting for him. Knowing Sophie, she probably had been.
"MacKenzie. Early. Good man." She set down two menus with a knowing smile. "Nervous?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"You've checked your phone six times in thirty seconds, and you've rearranged the salt and pepper shakers twice."
Mac forced himself to put his phone in his pocket and leave the condiments alone. "I want this to go well."
"It will. Rachel's nervous too, you know. So be kind and patient. You're good at those things."
"Right. Okay. I can do that." Mac took a breath. "What if I say something stupid?"
"You probably will. But that's okay. You said plenty of stupid things yesterday and she still said yes." Sophie squeezed his shoulder. "Now I'm going to leave you alone before Rachel gets here and thinks I'm hovering."
Mac nodded, watching Sophie disappear behind the counter. He forced himself to breathe normally. To not check his phone again. To not rearrange anything else on the table.
At exactly 2:00 PM, the café door opened.
Rachel walked in, and Mac's heart forgot how to function properly.
She looked beautiful. Different from yesterday, her hair was down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders instead of pulled back in her usual bun. She wore a soft pink sweater that looked impossibly soft and made her skin glow, paired with dark jeans and boots. Nervous energy radiated off her as she scanned the café, her eyes searching.
Mac stood, probably too quickly, and waved.Smooth, MacKenzie. Very smooth.
Rachel saw him and smiled, small, uncertain, but real. She crossed to the table, weaving between other patrons, and Mac realized his palms were sweating.
"Hi," Mac said. His voice came out slightly strangled, like he'd forgotten how to use it properly.
"Hi." Rachel slid into the seat across from him, setting her purse on the chair beside her. "You're early."
"Coach Davies says showing up early is respect. I'm respectful.Very respectful. Probably too respectful. I'm—" Mac stopped himself. "I'm talking too much."
Rachel's smile widened, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "You are. But it's okay."
Sophie appeared with her notepad, her timing impeccable as always. "Rachel! So good to see you. Your usual?"
"Please. Thank you, Sophie."
Sophie turned to Mac, one eyebrow raised. "And for you?"
"Black coffee, and, whatever you recommend for food. I trust you."
"Trust-food and coffees coming right up." Sophie disappeared with an encouraging wink at Mac that Rachel definitely saw but politely pretended not to notice.
And then they were alone.
Well, not alone, they were in a café full of people. But it felt alone, like the rest of the world had suddenly gotten very distant and quiet.
Mac scrambled for something to say.Don't talk about hockey,Jamie had said. But hockey was his life. What else was there?
Books. Rachel loved books. He could ask about books. That was safe.
