Dreamcatcher

Chapter 6 - Sunday

Sunday mornings at the diner are usually my favorite. There's a peaceful calm, the kind that only happens when most of the town is at church, and the sun is shining warmly through the windows. Paige, ever the chatterbox, was going on about her weekend adventures, her voice a light hum in the background while I half-listened, reading through a local newspaper.

The bell above the door jingled, pulling my attention from the paper. I glanced up, and there he was—Dean. He walked in earlier than usual, his brown hair slightly tousled, his strong shoulders drawing my eyes despite myself. I could feel my heartbeat quicken as our eyes met, and he winked, a teasing smile playing on his lips as he slid into one of the booths in my section.

I felt a warmth creep up my cheeks as I folded the newspaper and stood, grabbing the coffee pot. The dream from last night was still fresh in my mind—the way his arm had wrapped around me, how close we had been... I mentally shake myself, trying to push the lingering thoughts away. As I approach his table, I catch myself glancing at his lips, and my mind betrays me, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

I flip his cup right side up and pour the coffee, focusing on the simple task to clear my head. "Morning, Dean. You're a little early today," I say, forcing a casual smile despite the flurry of emotions I'm trying to hide.

"Yeah, well, I just couldn't wait to see you again," he replies with that easy grin, his voice smooth, like it's a fact, not a flirtation.

A part of me wants to remind him—remind myself—that I have a boyfriend. That Daniel was just here last week, holding me, kissing me. But something holds me back. He has to know, right? Maybe he's just being playful. Maybe.

I purse my lips and ignore the voice in my head. "Your usual?" I ask, keeping my tone light, not betraying the confusion swirling inside me.

Dean leans back, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Yes, but I think I'll mix it up today. Maybe I'll try the pancakes, with a side of bacon."

His change in routine catches me off guard, and I can't help but smile at him, a little more warmly than I intend. "Coming right up!" I say, turning quickly before he can see the blush I feel rising to my cheeks.

As I head to the kitchen, I feel the weight of his gaze following me, making me feel both excited and guilty at the same time. I tell myself to focus, to push the thoughts of last night's dream out of my head. But as I hand the order to the cook, I can't stop wondering what it is about Dean that keeps drawing me in—why, despite everything, he's starting to feel impossible to ignore.

Ten minutes later, I return with Dean's order—pancakes stacked high, crispy bacon on the side. As I set the plate in front of him, his eyes move from the food to me, a slow grin spreading across his face, making my heart do that little flip again.

"These look great, but now I'm wondering... are they as sweet as you?" Dean teases, his grin widening as he watches my reaction.

I laugh softly, trying to play it cool despite the butterflies suddenly taking flight in my stomach. "Careful, Dean. You keep sweet-talking like that, and you'll make me forget I'm supposed to be working."

He raises an eyebrow, leaning in just slightly, his voice dropping playfully. "Maybe that's the plan. What if I told you I come here just for the view?" He glances around the nearly empty diner, then back at me with a wink. "And I'm not talking about the pancakes."

I shake my head, biting back a smile. "You really think that line is going to work?"

Dean shrugs, the teasing twinkle still in his eyes. "Worth a shot. Besides, I'm just telling the truth, Ash."

That nickname—Ash. It rolls off his tongue so easily, like we've known each other forever, like there's already something between us. I glance down at the table, trying to gather my thoughts.