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‘Yep. Us computer nerds have to entertain ourselves somehow.’

He was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses again, and he pushed them up his nose a touch, as though to make his tech geek point. She noticed now that they were tortoiseshell, the chestnutty tones complementing his still-mussy hair. The glasses sat perfectly on his cheekbones, and if this was what a nerd looked like, Alyssa liked them a little more.

She shook her head. As a friend. She busied her hands and thoughts by slicing up her flapjack.

‘How are things going with the app?’ Work stuff was safer territory than gawping at the shades of his hair.

If she’d thought asking about his app would make the conversation dull enough for her to focus on her breakfast rather than his cheekbones, she’d been wrong. A different part of him seemed to come alive as he spoke about his love app creation. She couldn’t pretend to understand what he was talking about, with all that coding, programming and algorithm lingo. It ought to have been as dry as a bag of old bones, and about as appealing. But the way his deep blue eyes twinkled, and his strong hands drew shapes on the table had her completely transfixed. She found herself asking more questions, as though each one was allowing her one step closer to the fire that burned inside him. She wanted to know all of it, to hear him talk and talk.

Which was weird.

Because she was meant to be rallying against this app and trying to prove it couldn’t work. But if these tasks were strangely softening her and changing her feelings towards Devan … well, who knew what that could mean? Tread carefully was what it meant, she quickly reminded herself.

Meena fluttered around them, tidying tables for non-existent customers and doing who knew what – but Alyssa was barely aware of her. Against her better judgement, she was hanging on to Devan’s every word. Was her mouth actually open? Perhaps ’Appy Together wasn’t the soulless, dreadful piece of tech she’d built it up to be. From Devan’s words, he’d created it from a place of passion. Not just for the challenge of getting the coding to work, but the intriguing idea that his algorithms could bring people together. And he certainly had more desire for his work than she did, these days.

‘So your app’s taking off,’ she conceded. He’d explained that although the app was free for users, it did well through sponsorships and advertising. ‘Though you mentioned in the car yesterday that the polls aren’t showing Hartglove to have any more love since our ’Appy Together promo started. Why do you care so much?’

She remembered her mum saying his business had invested money into the town too, to help regenerate it. And he’d probably funded those terrible T-shirts.

‘I’m just proud of where I’m from. Not that I’m saying you’re not,’ he added quickly. ‘I mean, I loved growing up there, and it’s been great to see Emmalina enjoy the town too. But it’s not what it used to be, and young people are leaving. I’d hate to think she might have no choice but to move away because there aren’t enough youngsters or jobs. If she wants to spread her wings, that’s incredible. But it would be sad if leaving was her only sensible option.’

For a second, Alyssa wanted to say that fleeing wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. But the thought surprised her, so she kept it to herself and simply nodded. She did feel a pang of something in her chest for his so far unsuccessful plight. He seemed to genuinely care about Hartglove and his work. Part of her wanted to do something – but what did she know? She still had her own life and career to sort out.

‘Is it true the app chooses the love tasks?’ she asked, with a wry smile. ‘Or do you hide behind the curtain like the Wizard of Oz, trying to orchestrate things?’ She was more than curious about whether he’d fixed their weekend of camping alone-time, or indeed, all of this. ‘And did you match us on purpose?’ Was this part of his still holding a torch for her? Would it be sweet if he had, or just plain creepy?

Devan blinked a few times and repositioned his glasses. ‘Of course I don’t orchestrate things. And I definitely didn’t match us. I want to know if the app actually works, without me poking my nose in.’

‘But you did tag me in that Instagram post on New Year’s Day?’ she asked, cheekily.

He seemed to contemplate the question for a moment, one corner of his mouth trying to twitch into a smile. ‘I don’t make my part-time social media person work on public holidays. I do my best to help out.’

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, their eyes twinkling.

‘Anyway, how about you?’

His question broke the spell and brought her back to reality with a bump. She didn’t want to talk about herself. Listening to Devan had been absorbing, even if her mind still carefully questioned everything he said.

Alyssa leaned back in her chair, absently rubbing her chest as though something had actually been hooking her. Maybe flapjack gave you heartburn. She took a swig of water.

‘How are things with your love coaching?’ he asked, when she’d forgotten it was her turn to speak. ‘Is trying to prove my love app is utter nonsense helping you rake in those love-stuck clients?’ His tone was friendly rather than treating her like an arch rival.

‘Oh, that.’ She was still making a hash of getting things off the ground again, but she didn’t want to spoil this perfectly nice coffee by digging into whatever it was that was oddly holding her back from signing up some clients. So she settled on: ‘It’s all fine.’

He raised his eyebrows.

She guessed he wasn’t stupid. Fine never meant marvellous or the best thing since sliced flapjack. It generally meant a little bit pants, but I don’t want to talk about it. He seemed to take the hint.

‘Have I seen fewer posts from you on social media lately?’

She waved a dismissive hand. Though was he right? Maybe she’d been a bit busier with actual life. Or maybe something inside her was slowly changing, and she wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted to say. She let the thought settle for a moment. Much like finding your way to some random café in the woods without a map on your phone, it was disorientating.

She grabbed her coffee. ‘We should drink up and go. We’re taking up all the space.’ She made light of it, because it was early and they were still Meena’s only two customers.

As much as she hadn’t hated this angst-free time with Devan, she needed fresh air and thinking space. Because that was the thing about real-life friends, she was suddenly remembering. They were intuitive. They got under your skin. And they asked inquisitive things that you didn’t always want to address.

She was used to being the coach. The one who asked questions. The one who stayed in control of conversations and fixed other people’s woes. Was she willing to go back to a life where she let people in? This weekend had shown her it might not be so awful to rally less against Devan, even if there was no way it could progress. There were still so many questions left unanswered, and he’d made clear he wasn’t going to answer them. And she wasn’t the type to go digging – outside of allotments. Was she?

Private message from @agent_rufusdiamond to @alyssaheart_thelovecoach:

@agent_rufusdiamond – Sorry I couldn’t make it to your latest love task. I had to take my neighbour’s Jack Russell to get his nails painted. Great news – we went with ‘Iridescent Peacock’. He’s looking quite dapper.