I’m not usually this antsy about a date, but with her, everything feels different, more ...something. I can’t put my finger on it.
To distract myself, I decide to grab a coffee from ‘Bean There, Done That.’Dylan always has a way of putting things into perspective.
I pull on a light hoodie and grab my keys, deciding a drive might help clear my head.
As I get into my car, my thoughts drift to the severance package I received from St. Mary’s. It’s a decent amount—enough to keep me afloat while I figure out my next move.
But right now, my career isn’t what’s occupying my thoughts—it’s Carlie.
Our date went well—really well,actually. But there was something in her demeanor after our kiss.
She was slightly off, almost cryptic about what she was thinking. It’s like there’s a puzzle piece I’m missing, and it’s driving me nuts not knowing what it is.
Pulling into the small coffee shop parking lot, I shake off the thoughts.
I need to focus on the here and now—and right now, that’s grabbing a coffee and shooting the breeze with Dylan.
Stepping inside, I’m greeted by the familiar, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee. Dylan’s behind the counter, his usual confident self, but today there’s an extra spring in his step.
“Hey, Adam. I wasn’t expecting you today,” he greets with a wide grin. “Your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks,” I reply, leaning against the counter. “You look like you’re in a good mood. What’s up?”
Dylan chuckles, his eyes gleaming as he sets to work. “You might say I’m feeling hopeful. Met this woman yesterday. Blond, total knockout. Wrote my number on her cup. Classic, right?”
I laugh. “That’s one way to do it. She called you yet?”
“Not yet,” he says, shrugging nonchalantly, but I can tell he’s excited about the prospect. “Fingers crossed for this weekend.”
“You’ll have to keep me posted,” I say, smiling.
As he hands me my coffee, Dylan’s expression turns curious. “So, speaking of weekend dates … How’d it go with Carlie on Sunday?”
I pause, my thoughts snagging again on that kiss.
“It went great,” I say, keeping it vague. I’m not one to kiss and tell, even with Dylan.
“Come on, man, give me something more than that,” Dylan protests, but he’s smiling. “If blondie doesn’t call, I gotta live vicariously through someone.
“Well, it’s not gonna be me, Dylan. That’s all you’re getting,” I reply, shooting him a lopsided grin.
He rolls his eyes but thankfully, lets it go. He knows me well enough by now to know that some things never change. This being one of them.
Then, his expression shifts, becoming more serious. “Actually, speaking of Carlie, Jillian was in here earlier. Why I let that woman come in, is a mystery, come to think of it.” His expression turns quizzical, like he’s trying to parse out his own logic.
It would be laughable if my protective instincts weren’t immediately on edge.
“Focus, Dyl. What did Jillian say about Carlie?” I ask, snapping my fingers in front of his face.
He shakes his head and refocuses on me. “Oh, right. She was talking to some guy—I’m guessing from St. Mary’s. I’ve never seen him before.”
I roll my hand, urging him to get on with it.
He narrows his gaze and flattens his expression, but thankfully, continues, “I was gonna text you about it. I just got swamped with the morning rush.”
“Dylan,” I groan.
“Yeesh, panties in a bunch, I see,” he snorts over his own wit and continues, “She said someone about how the‘woman Adam got fired over’couldn’t even last a week at the gym before quitting. Seriously, how that woman doesn’t realize I can overhear her in this tiny coffee shop is beyond me. Not much in the brains department, that one.”