Heart Buffs, Coffees & Cats

25

When we reached the car, Ayden unlocked it and slipped into the driver's seat. I settled beside him, sighing like I'd just lost a million-dollar lottery. Twice.

"Something on your mind?"

"Just… college stuff," I said vaguely, trying to brush it off. "Nothing exciting."

"Right." He nodded, pulling out onto the road. "Because what's more thrilling than playing barista to people who think 'small talk' is a personality trait?"

I laughed, the sound coming out a little more genuine than I'd expected. 'Fair point." I hesitated, then took a breath. "Actually, I was just thinking about… my major. Journalism. Sometimes it feels like I'm... stuck. Like I'm supposed to know exactly what I want, but I'm not there yet. And then I see people like you—"

He shot me a glance, raising an eyebrow, as if he was daring me something. "People like me?"

I looked at him, a voice in the back of my mind asked: Why are you telling him, anyway?

Honestly? I didn't know. But somehow, telling Ayden always made me think things through more clearly. Like that time, almost a year ago, when I admitted I couldn't work as a barista because I'd lost the courage to face people. Or when I told him about Evelyn and Denise, or about Ryle, or about that period when I was practically homeless.

He always listened to me. Even if he threw the most annoying, outrageous sarcasm my way, he always had a way of making things feel easier. And even though he'd never made a big deal of it, I knew I owed him more 'thank-yous' than I could count. So this time, I just let my heart steer the conversation and ignored my brain's protests.

It never worked around him anyway.

"Yeah." I tried to find the right words. "You're just... focused. Like you know what you're doing, even if you don't tell anyone about it. It's like you're already where you want to be."

He was quiet for a moment, and I almost thought he wasn't going to answer. But then he shrugged, his gaze fixed on the road. "Sometimes. Not everything has to make sense right away, though. Sometimes you just… do things, see where they lead."

I blinked, feeling like I should mentally bookmark his words. But that would mean opening myself up to a lot of new and terrifying situations...

And I wasn't sure how much mocha I'd need to handle that.

He glanced over, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "And just so you know, I didn't 'just know' what I wanted, either. Figured it out along the way — messed it up a few times."

"Deep advice from the guy who just had to pretend to enjoy socializing for three hours," I muttered, half to myself.

Maybe he heard it, because I saw him shake his head slightly. I remembered what the sponsors had said earlier; it had shaken up my journalist's sense of curiosity, but I still didn't know if it was the right time to bring it up. So I kept quiet.

I couldn't help but look at Ayden one more time, trying to figure him out. Maybe he didn't have all the answers, either, but he definitely seemed more sure-footed, even in the middle of all the chaos. Perhaps, that was something I could learn from him.

He kept his eyes on the road, his expression perfectly neutral, but I could see the faintest hint of a smile threatening to break through, like he was fighting to keep it hidden. And somehow, that only made me want to mess with him more.

"So," I started, crossing my arms with a smirk, "not a bad day, right? Your sponsors got their coffee, you got to show off your charming personality…"

He rolled his eyes. "If by 'charming,' you mean 'tolerant,' sure."

"Right," I nodded. "The pinnacle of charm—complete indifference." I leaned back, trying to look as aloof as he always did. "Very impressive."

His lips twitched, but he didn't look over. "Glad you're taking notes."

"Oh, I am." I turned, watching him out of the corner of my eye. "I've decided to call it 'The Ayden Approach.' Trademark pending, of course."

He raised an eyebrow, just slightly. "You make it sound like some kind of life philosophy."

"Isn't it?" I asked, grinning. "Rule number one: never explain anything. Rule number two: respond to compliments with sarcasm. Rule number three…" I trailed off, noticing his hand steering the wheel a bit too smoothly with one hand as he took a turn. Okay. That was… hot. And as if that weren't enough, my eyes shifted up to his face, where the afternoon light made his skin glow and his blue eyes somehow even brighter.

If this could be captured in any animation, I'd bet a hundred bucks it would be every girl's favorite scene that they'd replay a thousand times.

Hell.

Was I becoming a part of that fandom?

Hell no.

I swallowed, feeling my face heat up as I forced myself to keep talking. "Rule number three: always look like you're about to smile but never actually do it."

He let out a low, almost under-his-breath laugh, and my stomach did a little flip that seemed to reach my lungs. Then, without looking over, he muttered, "There's another rule, you know."

"Oh, really?" I asked, trying to act as calm as possible. "What’s that?"

He kept his gaze on the road, and I could've sworn he hesitated for a fraction of a second before replying. "Rule number four," he said softly. "Don't make it obvious when you actually like being around someone."

Did Ayden mean he liked being around me?

For a moment, I was completely thrown off. My heart did this ridiculous little skip, like a cheerleader at a pep rally, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. I scrambled to come up with something witty, but my brain felt like it'd short-circuited. Ayden already gone quiet again, his face calm and unreadable. The car felt smaller, the space between us filled with something I didn't quite know how to name.

As the minutes ticked by, I became too aware of how close he was, his warmth, and I couldn't ignore how close his hand was to mine, either. He didn't pull it away or shift like he was uncomfortable, but it felt like the smallest movement from either of us could change… something.

And I wanted to run away.

I wasn't sure if I should break the silence, but the words felt stuck. Something about him had shifted — he was more relaxed, but not the typical Ayden I was used to. This was a softer side, like he was letting down just a little bit of that wall he always kept up.

I glanced at him again, but he didn't look back. Instead, his jaw was slightly clenched, his fingers gripping the wheel a little tighter, like he was bracing for something. I almost laughed at myself for overthinking it.

Finally, I decided to break the silence, keeping my tone light. "So… 'Rule number four,' huh?"

Ayden let out a breath that could've been a chuckle, but it was softer, quieter than usual. "It's the hardest one," he muttered.

I wasn't sure if he meant to say it out loud, but the way he said it — like he was almost letting a secret slip — made my heart race. I looked away quickly, feeling warmth flood my chest.

Neither of us said anything else. The drive felt different now, a little slower, with the space between us filled with something unspoken. His hand still hovered near mine, just close enough that I could feel the tension crackling in the air, and I wondered if he felt it too.

Minutes later, we pulled into the driveway, and I forced myself to focus. The car stopped, and Ayden's hand finally moved from the wheel, almost like he was snapping out of whatever had just happened. The moment was gone, but something felt… different between us, something I couldn't quite name but was definitely there.