Seth #2
“Makes sense." Dane nodded once before adding, "We could still say we met at your cafe.”
"True."
"And eventually I asked you out."
I stared at him. "You? I was the one who asked you."
"Technically."
I narrowed my eyes. "Technically?"
Dane leaned back in his chair like he was enjoying himself way too much. "You couldn't take your eyes off me every time I walked into the shop."
Heat rushed straight into my face. "That is not true at all."
"It absolutely happened."
"That's called customer service."
"Is it? Well, it looked like staring."
"I was making eye contact."
Dane hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Sure. But what about the carrot cake muffin?"
That stopped me completely. "The what?"
"The free carrot cake muffin you gave me the second time I came into your café."
My mouth opened, then stalled as I realized exactly what he meant. It had been a leftover from a new batch we were testing for the menu.
I'd recognized him from earlier that week, he'd ordered coffee like usual, and I'd handed it over without thinking much of it at the time.
Apparently, he had thought about it a lot more.
"That was..." I started, then squinted at him. "Wait. Is that why you always order it?”
He shrugged, completely unbothered. "What can I say? You got me hooked on it."
Despite myself, I laughed, and Dane laughed too. Something about it felt different from every other conversation we'd had across the coffee counter.
Maybe it was because neither of us was in a hurry. Or because I wasn't juggling orders or thinking about the next customer in line.
Or maybe it was simply because this was the first time we'd actually sat down and talked without anything hanging over it.
To my surprise, it was easy.
I’d expected awkward pauses, forced conversation, the moment where everything ran dry and we were left staring at our drinks, pretending that was normal.
Instead, the knot of tension I hadn’t even realized I was carrying had started to loosen, and I found myself no longer waiting for him to change his mind and walk away.
Maybe Dane really had been the right person to ask, because being here with him felt easier than it should have been.
By the time we finished, the afternoon crowd had started to pick up.
Dane glanced around once before looking back at me. “We should probably move.”
“Yeah.”
I stood first, sliding my chair back as we left the table behind and headed toward the park path just a few steps away.
We started walking. We looked like strangers heading in the same direction without meaning to.
There was too much space between us, like we hadn’t quite figured out what we were supposed to look like in motion together yet.
I let out a small breath and stopped. “Okay. We need to fix this before your pack thing.”
Dane slowed. “Fix what exactly?”
“This.” I gestured vaguely between us. “We’re supposed to be dating.”
Dane glanced down at the space between us. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I sighed, then held out my hand. “Try it.”
Dane looked at it like I’d offered him something far more complicated than it was. He hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly reached out and took my hand.
His fingers were a little rougher than I expected, steady and sure when they closed around mine.
For a second, I just stood there, aware of the contact before I consciously decided not to think about it.
I gave a small tug and started walking again, forcing it to feel normal even though it wasn’t.
“See?” I said. “That’s better.”
Dane looked down at our joined hands. “Is it?”
“Yes.” I said it like that settled it, and we started walking again.
It still felt a little strange at first, but less awkward than I expected.
After a few steps, I noticed his hand shifting slightly. It was no longer just holding mine, but settling closer to my side instead.
“Your hand.”
He looked at me, genuinely confused. “What about it?”
“It’s supposed to go here.” I let go of his hand just long enough to guide it lower to my waist.
Dane stiffened slightly. “That feels lower than necessary.”
“It’s not.”
“It feels like it is.”
He exhaled loudly, clearly unhappy about it, but didn’t pull away. He let me position his hand properly until his palm finally settled against my side.
For a moment, it hovered there uncertainly before pressing into place, careful, like he was still figuring out how much of this he was allowed to be.
“Better,” I said.
The park had filled out more than I’d realized. People were scattered across benches with coffee cups and iced drinks in hand, others stretched out on picnic mats.
And then there were the couples, not many, but enough that I noticed them anyway.
Hands linked, arms draped over shoulders, bodies leaning together without hesitation. They looked like us, except they weren’t pretending.
A quiet feeling settled in my stomach, nothing sharp enough to name properly, just the echo of something familiar I hadn’t let myself reach for in a long time.
Comfort, familiarity, and the idea of having someone beside you without needing to think about it. I swallowed and forced my attention back to the path.
This wasn’t real. It was practice. Just practice. Beside me, Dane said something about the trees changing colour earlier than usual this year.
He hadn’t noticed the shift in me at all, and I answered automatically, my voice falling into step with his as easily as my feet had.