“This place is incredible,” Brody says, looking around like he’s stumbled into Narnia, except with better coffee.
And I wonder…He brought me coffee from here just days ago, so why does he act like he’s never been here? Or maybe he ran through the drive-thru?
Anyway, “I know. I’ve been coming here since college.” I point to a corner table tucked between bookshelves. “That’s my spot.”
We order lattes for both of us and egg bites. The barista, Marcus, recognizes me and winks. “Special occasion?”
“Work meeting,” I say, maybe a little too quickly.
Marcus raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment.
We settle into the corner. The vintage lamp casts warm light across Brody’s face, highlighting his jaw, the tired shadows under his eyes, and it hits me.
He didn’t sleep well.
Join the club. I’ve been awake since four a.m. running worst-case scenarios like my own personal horror-movie marathon.
“Okay,” I say, pulling out my phone and opening my Notes app. “Basics first. Timeline. How we met. How long we’ve been together. We need our stories to match, or Derek’s going to smell blood in the water.”
“Right.” He stretches his impressive legs out. His knee bumps mine under the small table. “Maybe we should just…stay close to the truth?”
“All right…so…” I try not to look at him. Jessa did say we could use the story in an official capacity. “Barcelona?” The word sticks to my lips.
Brody’s brows pinch, hesitation heavy between them, but he gives a nod.
Okay. We’re doing this. I tap the screen of my phone again and type:
Met six months ago in Barcelona.
He leans into my space, peering at the notes over my shoulder, and I swear I can feel his body heat setting my shoulder on fire. But like…don’t lean away just yet. “Ran into each other again two weeks ago.”
“At a coffee shop,” I say.
Brody frowns, his head tilting. “Not Ironclad?”
The explanation slips out without a thought. “We told that girl at the shop we were dating. It wouldn’t make sense for that to be our first time seeing each other again.”
Huh. Maybe I’m more equipped for this whole lying thing than I thought.
I don’t want to think too hard about what that means about me.
Brody’s lips part. “Ah. Smart. Okay, so we met again at the coffee shop.”
“Classic Hallmark meet-cute. The spilled coffee, hands touch, the whole goopy thing,” I add, already typing it down.
“And realized we still had—” He pauses, his gaze lifting from my phone to meet my eyes.
“Chemistry.” I say it like it’s a fact. My brain just spits it out. And now it’s too late to take it back, so I double down. I type it. Try to ignore the fact that every single one of my brain cells is collectively screaming because his knee is touching mine. It’s very loud inside my head right now. “And we’ve been seeing each other for two weeks. Casually. Taking it slow because we’re both busy professionals who don’t rush into things.”
“Seeing where it goes,” he adds.
“Right. Just…seeing if there’s something there.” I add a note:
Keep it vague. Don’t oversell.
“Is there?” He’s looking at me now. Not at my phone. At me.
“Is there what?”
