If anything, it’s making things worse.
“Dude,relax. It’s just coffee, not a marriage proposal,” Dylan says, but his casual tone does nothing to calm my nerves. “Now, if you were meeting up for drinks atJaded Brews, that woulda sent a different kind of message …”
My fingers instinctively rake through my hair, tangling in the locks as I second-guess each thought racing through my mind. The gesture, almost a nervous tic at this point, does little to ease the knot in my stomach.
“What was I thinking, Dylan? Inviting Carlie out like this after everything …”
Dylan leans back, studying me. “You’re overthinking it, man. It’s just two people having a conversation, getting to know each other outside the gym. That’s normal, bro. It’s how relationships are supposed to start. Or at least, so I’ve heard.”
“Yeah, I suppose. It’s just?—”
Before I can get the rest of the sentence out, the bell over the shop’s entrance jingles, and in walks Carlie. She enters with a careful grace, her movements slightly measured, and each step seems a tad deliberate.
The casual elegance of her frilly shirt and ripped up jeans contrasts with the tentative way she tucks a loose wave of red hair behind her ear. A fleeting moment of hesitation flashes in her eyes before she offers one of her pretty smiles that makes her dimples shine.
I rise to my feet, a genuine smile forming effortlessly as I’m struck by her natural, unassuming beauty.
Dylan’s gaze shifts to Carlie, and I notice a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He grins broadly. “Well, look who’s here.”
My stomach tightens. “You know her?”
God, please tell me they didn’t date.
He waves off my concern and rush-whispers. “Relax, it’s not what you think. She’s a regular here—always typing away on her laptop. An author or something. I’ll explain later.”
Carlie approaches our table, her smile widening. “Hey, Adam. Dylan.”
Dylan stands up, giving Carlie a friendly nod. “I’ll leave you two to it. Adam, chill out, will ya?” He pats my shoulder before sauntering off to the counter.
I lean over, pulling out a chair for her. “Hi, Carlie. It’s good to see you.”
She grins, a rosy pink gracing her cheeks. “It’s only been a day, Adam.” She eases into the chair with a barely noticeable wince, but I catch it. Her muscles are sore but she’s trying not to show it.
I rub at the back of my neck. “I know … It’s just, uh?—”
An awkward silence envelops us as I drop into my seat, and tap my middle finger on the table beside my coffee.
Carlie’s gaze flickers around the cozy interior of the coffee shop.
“This place has the best coffee. I’m here a lot,” she admits, trying to ease into the conversation. “I was excited when you mentioned meeting up here.”
“Oh, shit—did you want something? I can order—” I begin, flagging Dylan to come back. What an idiot. It should have been the first thing I did.
She shakes her head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I asked you here. It’s my treat,” I say, motioning to Dylan that he should focus on Carlie. “Can you get Carlie whatever she wants? Put it on my tab.”
Dylan’s lopsided grin emerges, probably at my usage of the phrase ‘put it on my tab.’ Especially since there is no such thing here.
“Sure, the usual, Carlie?” he offers, with the tilt of his chin.
She beams. “That would be great. Thanks.”
Dylan flicks his eyebrows at me and disappears to make her drink.
I lean forward conspiratorially. “So, whatisthe usual?”
I have to admit, the fact that Dylan knows what that is and I don’t rubs me wrong.
