The café was packed, as it had been every morning since they'd arrived in Copper Moon. Local families mixed with racing teams, everyone drawn to what was apparently the best breakfast spot in town. The walls were covered with vintage photographs of past races, and a glass case near the register displayed trophies from decades of Copper Moon Cups.
Hank followed Brian toward the window table, his mind still half on Julie's performance metrics, when he saw her.
Bree sat two tables over, her blonde hair catching the morning sunlight that streamed through the windows. She was laughing at something the dark-haired woman across from her said, her whole face lit up with genuine amusement, and the sound hit him square in the chest.
He stopped walking.
"Hank?" Colby's voice came from somewhere behind him. "You coming?"
He couldn't move. Couldn't look away. Bree's laughter faded into a soft, warm smile, and she tucked her hair behind her ear in a gesture that seemed unconscious. Natural. The kind of detail a man noticed when he was paying far too much attention.
"Oh, this is good," Brian said, his voice gleeful. "Colby, look at his face."
"I'm looking." Colby moved to stand beside Hank, following his gaze. "That's the woman from yesterday, isn't it? The one he nearly killed?"
"I didn't nearly kill her," Hank corrected automatically. "I swerved just in time."
"Right," Brian drawled. "After you knocked her down."
Hank forced himself to move, to follow them to the table, but his attention kept drifting back to Bree. She wore a light blue sundress today, something simple and feminine that made her look like she belonged in a painting. Her hands moved as she talked, graceful and expressive, and he found himself wondering what she was saying that made her friend smile like that.
"Earth to Hank," Brian said once they were seated. "You want to order, or are you just going to stare at her all morning?"
"I'm not staring."
"You're absolutely staring," Colby said, picking up his menu. "And she's going to notice if you keep doing it."
Hank grabbed his own menu, determined to focus on breakfast options instead of the woman two tables over. Eggs. Bacon. Toast. Simple. Easy. Except his eyes kept sliding past the laminated pages toward Bree, noting the way she sipped her coffee, and how her expression shifted from amusement to something more thoughtful.
The waitress appeared, and they ordered. Hank asked for the special without even knowing what it was, his mind too occupied to care about food.
"So," Brian said the moment the waitress left, "are you going to talk to her, or just pine from a distance like some tragic hero?"
"I'm not pining."
"He's totally pining," Brian told Colby.
"Definitely pining," Colby agreed. "Look at him. I've never seen Hank look at anyone like that."
"Can you two shut up?" Hank shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable and failing. "I barely know her."
"Which is why you should go talk to her." Brian leaned forward, his expression turning serious despite the teasing tone. "Come on, Hank. When's the last time you looked at a woman like that? When's the last time you let yourself be interested in anything besides Julie and the race?"
Never, Hank thought. Or at least not since the fire, not since his life had narrowed down to survival and purpose and dreams that felt just out of reach.
"She's looking over here," Colby said quietly.
Hank's head came up before he could stop himself, and his eyes found Bree's across the café. She'd been mid-conversation with her friend, but her gaze had drifted toward their table, and now their eyes met.
The connection was immediate. Electric. Like touching a live wire.
She didn't look away. Didn't blush or pretend she hadn't been looking. Instead, a small smile curved her lips, tentative and a little surprised, as if she hadn't expected to see him here either.
Hank's chest tightened.
"Go," Brian said. "Before you lose your nerve."
"I don't have the nerve to lose."
