He wasn't supposed to be there. He didn't even like coffee. But his friend had bailed on their lunch plans, and the rain had started without warning, so Brent ducked into the nearest cafe with nothing but wet sleeves and a vague craving for something warm. That's when he saw her. Behind the counter. Laughing at something the barista beside her said. Her head tilted back just slightly, eyes crinkling at the corners, mouth curved in a smile that didn't ask for attention but demanded anyway. ---- He was younger. She could tell. Not by much, maybe five, six years. But enough. Enough that when he flirted, she didn't take it seriously. Enough that when he lingered at the counter, she chalked it up to boredom, not interest. She didn't have time for boys like that. Not when she's still healing from a toxic ex. But he kept coming back.