“But we’re both adults. Who cares? I feel like millennials are kind of obsessed with aging.” He says this with a raised brow. He is challenging me. I can’t even be mad. Somehow everything this guy does is just kind of, fuckingendearing.
“We are. Because we’re the first people in the history of humans to age, didn’t you know?” I’m about to reach for a croissant when he intercepts me and hands it to me. I take it. “Stop being so damn considerate.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Even that’s cute. Stop.” I busy myself with making sure I don’t get croissant crumbs all over myself. “I’m turning forty this week.”
He drops his pretzel roll dramatically. “It’s yourbirthdaythis week?”
“Yup.”
“What are your plans for the big day?”
There’s no reason to go into my birthday angst and grief with Ellis. This sweet cinnamon bun of a guy. No need for him to knowthat I usually leave town on my birthday, just me and a playlist from 2001 blasting in my car as I drive to some random California destination in the vain pursuit of peace. Of a moment of enlightenment—still waiting to be okay with my mother dying on my birthday when I was a child.
“Not sure yet,” I say breezily. “I’ll probably head out of town.”
“Ooh, where?”
“You are a very curious person.” I try the lemon scone next.
“I’m curious about you.”
The scone threatens to choke me when I swallow. “Well, not sure yet. I usually plan my birthday trip really last-minute. The only time in my life I do anything last-minute, honestly.”
He leans closer. “You do this every year?”
“Yeah.”
“Fun tradition. Do you go alone? Or with, like…a boyfriend? Girlfriend.” He does that kind of crooked, hot-guy smile—another challenge.
I look at his eyes—dark brown with a hint of amber. Thick lashes, a dusting of freckles on his very nice nose. And without being aware of what I’m doing, I look down at his mouth. He’s absentmindedly biting down on his bottom lip. There’s a little scar between his upper lip and his nose.
Shit. I’m doing it. I stop myself from reading his face. I never do it with men I date. I never do it with anyone who doesn’t give me explicit permission, in fact. It’s a code that we have.
“I go alone. Sans boyfriend and girlfriend because I don’t have one. Which Mar so obviously pointed out to you.”
The check arrives before he can respond, and I reach for it—but he grabs it before I can. “No, no way. This is for saving my life,” I say.
He scoffs. “I didn’t save your life. I called nine-one-one a minute before your friend would have.”
“You helped me,” I say sincerely. “You kept me calm. I really appreciated it.”
The flush returns. “It was nothing. And—well, if you’re not going to let me take you out on a real date, this is my treat.” He keeps the check out of reach while he digs out his wallet. The server takes it before I can make any real attempt at paying.
“But—but I’m also your elder,” I say pathetically, having lost the battle.
He laughs. “I am an adult with a job, it’s fine.”
“What’s your job?” I brace myself foractororinfluencer. There are so many hot young Asian dude chefs on TikTok.
“Landscape architect,” he says, surprising me. “That’s why I was at the river that day. My firm is in charge of the big restoration project there and we had a deadline to hit, so we had to be on-site.”
“Wow, really?” A few years ago, the city had earmarked a ton of money to rehab the L.A. River, creating more green corridors for wildlife and a series of parks and paths to increase foot traffic. Basically,make the L.A. River cool again. “That’s awesome. I’ve been watching the progress for the past few years while biking.”
He nods, immediately animated. “Yeah, it’s really exciting that we got the project. I mean, my company.”
“So, you design the landscaping?”
