It’s working. The sun feels good. The air is crisp. The world settles.
Pfft. Whatever.
I start walking. “Can you at least tell me what the date is?” I ask, because he and Minnie conspired about that too. Who knows what they’ve said to Roger. “Also, does Roger know I haven’t been the one messaging him?”
“You didn’t read the chat?”
“I try not to open the app.” I shrug over at him.
“But... how will... you didn’t even...” He starts and stops three times. Then, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, he says, “You know what? It’s great. It’ll all work out. And be fun. Promise.”
We reach the end of the block, and I notice how busy it is. Just like the first time I left my apartment to try to eat somewhere by myself—there are couples pushing strollers, people walking dogs, a man jogging, a woman biking, and groups of friends doing the kinds of things people do in the city on a Saturday morning. Shopping. Eating. Drinking coffee.
I glance over at Miles and find him watching me. “What?”
“Nothing, you just seem really engrossed in, you know”—he waves a hand out in front of him—“everything.”
The light changes and I step out into the street. “Sometimes I just have to take it all in. I still can’t really believe I live here.”
“It’s brave what you did,” he says.
“Brave. Ha. It was self-preservation,” I say, not wanting to get into all the reasons I didn’t feel like I could show my face back in Colorado.
“It was still brave,” he offers. “Don’t downplay that.”
I try to absorb the words, but it’s hard to accept compliments. I shrug. “I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”
“I get that. If my ex hadn’t moved to Arizona after our divorce, I would’ve been tempted to leave the city,” he says. “Or the country.”
I smile.
“Work would’ve made it hard, though.”
I know from our past conversations that Miles is a landscape architect who owns his own firm. “Your business ties you here.”
“Good thing I love this place,” he says.
He slows as we reach a cute coffee shop on the corner of the next block. He opens the door for me, and I step inside. I look around at the space—sleek and modern, exactly like you’d expect a coffee shop in the city to look.
“Have you tried this place before?” I ask.
He nods as we get in line. “The coffee is amazing, but their pastries don’t hold a candle to those pecan things you made the other night.”
My cheeks flush at the comment, even though they absolutely shouldn’t. He’s complimenting my pecan bars, for Pete’s sake. “Oh, please.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “You have yet to bake something that I don’t love.”
I ignore him as I step forward and order an oat milk latte. Miles orders a black coffee and pays for both of our drinks. We move to the end of the counter, and there’s a beat of silence as my gaze lands on a young couple in the corner. “What do you think? First love?”
He follows my gaze and squints, clearly deep in thought. “Maybe. Or maybe... he’s in the military. Leaving tomorrow to serve overseas.”
“They’ve spent one bliss-filled week ignoring the world and falling in love...”
“And she’s going to ghost him in three months when she meets someone else at a club.”
I frown. “Whoa. That took a dark turn. She would at least let him down easy.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, she’d ghost him.”
