Bloom

It’s charming in an old-time New York City way.

The woman behind the counter knew Liam’s name and his order by heart.

Everyone turned when she called out, “Wolf,” to signal that our order of two medium coffees with cream and sugar was ready.

Blowing over the hot liquid in his cup, he keeps his eyes trained on my face.

Am I supposed to start this conversation?

“My brother is having a baby,” he announces. “Sebastian. He’s the oldest. Technically, his wife, Tilly, is having the baby.”

I take a second to shift my thoughts from his ex-girlfriends to his brother. “Did you see her at the hospital?”

Nodding, he glances around the coffee shop. “She was there.”

“Is she alright?”

I wouldn’t know her if I passed her on the street, but I ask because he’s tense. His hand is wrapped around the ceramic mug in a death grip.

“She’s good.” He half-smiles. “Happy. Excited to be a mom.”

I take a sip of my coffee. It’s bitter.

“Being an uncle is a pretty big deal.” Leaning back, he exhales. “This will be my third time.”

“I’m a one-time aunt.” I push the mug away from me before I slide it closer again.

I didn’t come here for small talk. I’m not even sure what I came for anymore. I yank my bag onto my lap. “I think I should go, Liam. I don’t think this is going to…”

“Don’t.” His voice comes out strained. “I’m sorry about last night, Athena. I let you down.”

He didn’t. It’s not his fault that Darcy showed up or that he had to take that call. That’s all timing and circumstance. If anything, fate played a role in the night too.

“Darcy had no right coming over.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “We broke up months ago. I don’t know what she was thinking showing up like that.”

I know what she was thinking. He’s hot.

She still wants him. I can’t blame her for that.

“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” I say before I swallow another sip of the bitter coffee.

“You were in the right place.” He inches forward. “I really like you, Athena.”

“I like you too,” I admit.

Before I can tell him that I’m not a fan of coming face-to-face with his ex-girlfriends, he clears his throat. “I propose we lay our cards on the table right now.”

I watch as he taps his hand on the tabletop.

“I have a past. I own it.” His eyes lock on mine. “I can’t erase any of it. I want you to know that I’m not interested in anyone but you. I know we said we’re keeping it casual, and I’m good with that, but let me be clear that the only woman I want to hang out with is you.”

Nervous, I spit the words out before thinking through what I should say. “My past isn’t like your past.”

Did that sound as judgy as I think it did?

For a second, I think I’ve offended him, but he cracks a smile. “Lucky you.”

I can’t leave well enough alone, so I try and explain. “I’ve only been with two men before. I’ve dated more guys, but I’ve only…”