“Never better.”
“You look stressed.”
“I’m not,” I say quickly. “I just thought?—”
I stop myself.
“Never mind.”
“Bad dream?”
“Basically.”
He studies me for half a second, then hands me a cup.
“Brought you coffee. There’s this little family coffee shop down the road. Best coffee I’ve had in a while.”
A beat passes, and he adds, “Zero social media presence, though.”
He waggles his eyebrows.
I laugh, tension melting.
I take a sip. “Aw. Thanks.”
“You wanna go sit out back?” he asks. “Ocean’s pretty unreal this morning. I’ve got doughnuts, too. You know, for the wine hangover.”
“Yeah,” I say, smiling now. “Yes, I would.”
We step through the sliding doors out onto the patio.
The sun’s just starting to shine on the water from the east—everything soft and golden.
We sit.
“So,” I say, wrapping my hands around the cup. “Last night…”
He glances at me.
“That was…really great,” I add. “I’m just?—”
I hesitate.
“Thinking,” I finish. “Like…how this is going to work. Next winter, if my family’s in the Midwest and?—”
“Cass.”
I stop.
He’s not smiling or mocking. Just radiating calm.
“You know what your problem is?” he says.
I narrow my eyes.
“Wow. Can’t wait to hear this.”
He leans back in the chair.
