Nathan doesn’t look at her.
He looks at me.
He walks up to the counter while Ashton and Bishop start talking quietly.
“I just wanted to say… I’m sorry,” he says under his breath. “About the other night. That wasn’t like me. I shouldn’t have—” He exhales. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
My chest does something unhelpful.
“It’s okay,” I say. “Really.”
He nods, like he’s relieved. Or maybe like he’s just checking a box.
Behind him, Ashton hears enough to piece it together.
“If you’re trying to make it up to her,” she says, “you could actually take her to that dinner.”
The four of us go quiet. Nathan looks at him. Then at me.
He looks… uncomfortable.
“I… yeah,” he says slowly. “I guess I could.”
Nathan’s phone chooses that inopportune moment to go off. He stares down at the screen, and his entire face falls. “Nathan Reign speaking.” He nods at Bishop and walks out of the store.
Bishop walks over to me and holds out his hand.
I stare at it. “Uh, yes?”
“I’ll give you his number. Send him a text when he’s not…distracted. He’s a difficult one, but just know his heart is in the right place. So, your only job is to text him when you’re available. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Ashton sighs and leans against the wall. “You’re a good egg, Bishop.”
He grabs a napkin and pulls out a shiny metal pen that looks expensive, then quickly scribbles down Nathan’s number and hands it to me. “Seriously, text him, okay?” His smile is gorgeous and huge.
Nathan’s voice calls from outside, “Bishop! You coming?”
Bishop glances toward the door. “Yeah, one sec!” He waves, turns, and rushes out, the bell chiming behind him.
When I look down, I notice he’s left his pen on the counter.
Before I can reach for it, the bell rings again.
A woman steps in, mid-twenties maybe, sharp eyes, clutching her phone like she’s mid-scroll. Her energy feels bright but… too focused.
“Was that Bishop Towns?” she asks, voice pitched casual, though she’s already looking toward the door he exited through.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, still half-distracted by the open pastry boxes.
She exhales, almost a laugh. “Wow. I thought so.” She leans a little closer across the counter. “Do you, um… happen to know what he ordered? His coffee, I mean.”
The question throws me off. “His coffee?”
“Yeah,” she says quickly, smiling. “I just...I always like knowing what famous people order.”
I hesitate, then shrug. “Um, he actually didn’t order anything.”
She laughs softly, but it’s the kind of laugh that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Right. Of course he didn’t.” She looks around once more, like she’s taking in the space. “You don’t have to lie to me, you know.”
