I set my phone down and rubbed my temples. A headache was forming behind my eyes, the kind that came from stress and lack of sleep. I’d barely slept last night, too angry and confused to relax.
“You want some coffee?”
Kent’s voice made me jump. I looked up to find him standing there with a mug in his hand, offering it to me. The gesture was so unexpected, so unlike him, that I didn’t know how to respond.
“It’s the fancy stuff you like,” he added when I didn’t move. “I made it in that pour-over thing. Tried to follow the instructions on the bag.”
I took the mug slowly, our fingers brushing for just a second. That same electric jolt ran through me, and I pulled away quickly.
“Thanks,” I muttered.
He nodded and retreated to the couch with his own mug. We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the occasional slurp of coffee and the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard. The tension was still there, thick and suffocating, but at least he wasn’t pushing me to talk about last night anymore.
I took a sip of the coffee. It was actually good. Better than the mess he’d made the first time he’d tried to use my pour-over setup. He must have actually paid attention to how I did it.
I hated that the gesture softened something in me. Hated that I wanted to read more into it than what it was, a simple peace offering from someone who knew they’d fucked up.
My laptop finally connected to the charger properly, and I dove back into my work, grateful for the distraction. The tech startup rebrand was coming along nicely, and I had a meeting scheduled for Monday to present the final concepts. If they approved it, that would be another solid paycheck. Enough to cover rent and maybe even put a little away for emergencies.
Like replacing a laptop with a damaged charging port.
I shot a glare at Kent over my shoulder, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at his phone, his expression unreadable. Probably texting someone from work, explaining why he wasn’t coming in today.
My phone buzzed again, pulling my attention back to the screen.
Him: By the way, my name’s Trevor. Figured I should probably tell you that before we go on an actual date lol
I smiled despite myself. Trevor. It was a good name. Normal. Safe.
Me: I’m James. But you probably already knew that from my profile.
Trevor: True lol. See you at 2, James.
I set my phone down and tried to focus on work again, but my mind kept drifting to the date. What would we talk about? What if we ran out of things to say? What if the chemistry we had in bed didn’t translate to actual conversation?
And why did I care so much? It was just coffee. Just a casual afternoon date with a guy who’d asked me out on a whim. No pressure. No expectations.
Except I did have expectations, I realized. I wanted this to be something. I wanted someone to look at me and see more than just a convenient fuck. I wanted to matter to someone.
“You’re smiling.”
Kent’s voice startled me out of my thoughts. I looked over to find him watching me, his expression strange. Not angry, not disgusted. Something else. Something that looked almost like hurt.
“So?” I said defensively.
“Nothing. Just… I’ve never seen you smile like that before.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ve never given me a reason to.”
The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t take them back. They were true. Kent had spent years making my life miserable, and now he was acting like he had some kind of claim over my happiness.
He flinched, his jaw tightening. For a moment I thought he was going to argue, to defend himself, but he just looked away.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I haven’t.”
The admission hung in the air between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to do with it, didn’t know how to process this version of Kent who seemed capable of self-awareness.
“I have a date this afternoon,” I said, changing the subject. “I’ll be out from two until probably four or five.”
