I pulled my phone out, more for the distraction than anything. My conversation withTheWriteGuywas still open on the screen. This morning had been our longest chat yet. Playful banter, just enough flirting to make me smile like an idiot into my coffee.
Not that it meant anything. Online personas were easy to fake. In real life, guys like that didn’t just … show up and sit across from you in a café.
I took another sip, telling myself it was ridiculous to even think about him here, when?—
A shadow fell across my table.
I glanced up, and there he was, Talon Everhart. In the flesh.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, his voice warm and smooth like he already knew the answer.
“Yes—” The word tumbled out before I even processed it, sounding way too enthusiastic. My eyes widened. “I mean—” I cleared my throat and waved a hand at the empty chair, forcing a casual tone. “Sure. Whatever. It’s a free country.”
Smooth, Livvi. Real smooth.
He pulled out the chair and sat, his presence somehow making the table feel smaller, the air thicker. Up close, he smelled faintly of coffee and something clean, like fresh laundry. I caught myself leaning in, then promptly leaned back.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.” He studied me with those blue eyes that made it hard to remember my own name.
I shrugged, clutching my coffee like it was a lifeline. “It’s a popular café. All the town locals come here.”
His mouth curved, just enough to make me wonder if he could hear the faint edge in my voice—or if he knew exactly how flustered I was and found it amusing.
He leaned back in his chair, stretching one leg out under the table like he owned the space. “So … you hang out in libraries and coffee shops. Are you a student?”
“No.” I shook my head, then sighed. “Well … yes, but not full time. I’ve been a part-time student ever since I graduated from high school. I’ve been working while I go to school, so it’s taking me forever to finish—especially with a double major.”
His brows lifted slightly, but he stayed quiet, so I kept talking. “I never thought I’d be twenty-five and still incollege, but between working, trying to pay for classes, and the two majors … it’s a lot more than I anticipated.”
I took a sip of my coffee to fill the pause. It tasted slightly bitter—or maybe that was just the taste of having said too much. I didn’t usually unpack my life for near strangers, but something about the way he watched me—attentive without interrupting—made it too easy.
And that was alarming.
He nodded, a hint of admiration in his expression. “That’s impressive. Most people would’ve dropped one major, maybe even quit school altogether, if it was taking that long. Sticking with it? That’s … impressive.”
The genuine tone caught me off guard, like he’d just pulled the rug out from under my defensive stance. My shoulders loosened a fraction. “Thanks,” I said quietly.
But then his mouth curved into a grin. “So basically, you’re planning to run a Fortune 500 company by day and moonlight as a hacker by night?”
I let out a humorless laugh. “Ha. Something like that.”
My parents had drilled into me from day one how important education and income were. How the right degree, the right career, the right amount of money could solve everything. I’d spent years trying to live up to that expectation, juggling work and school, always running a little behind, always feeling like I was chasing a future that I wasn’t sure was fully mine.
But this—this double major, this grind, these late nights and early mornings—it wasn’t just about makingsure I had a different life than them. I was also working to build a life that I chose, one where I wouldn’t just be financially secure, but capable of standing on my own. Creating a different future for myself, whatever I wanted that future to look like.
“But you know …” He leaned in just slightly. “If I were you, I’d add a little fun in there somewhere. Can’t conquer the world on spreadsheets alone.”
I raised an eyebrow, masking the flutter I couldn’t quite control. “And who says I don’t have fun? Working, sitting through accounting lectures, and debugging code is my idea of a good time.”
He chuckled, clearly entertained. “Right. Sure. I’ll take your word for it.”
I bit back the urge to tell him that yes, itwasgrueling, but I’d chosen this path to make something better of myself, to create a life that was the opposite of my parents’. Instead, I sipped my coffee, my tone light, keeping the wall up.
And yet … even as I played it cool, I couldn’t deny how easy it felt to talk to him, how the teasing and the banter made the weight on my shoulders lift just a little.
I glanced down at my phone and nearly jumped out of my chair.
“Shoot,” I muttered under my breath. “I’m going to be late.”