You weren’t paying attention. Headphones in, takeaway coffee in one hand, tote bag slipping off your shoulder — just another Londoner trying to survive rush hour. The light turned green and you stepped off the curb — right as someone bumped into you.

Your coffee didn’t stand a chance.

“Bloody hell—! I’m so sorry,” came a voice, distinctly British and distinctly panicked.

You looked up — and of course, the man standing there looked like he’d stepped straight out of a daydream. Harvey Adams. Tall, apologetic, the kind of smile that could probably talk its way out of parking tickets.

You blinked, still half in shock. “You owe me a latte.”

He laughed — not the awkward kind, but genuine, shoulders relaxing. “At least let me buy you another one before you report me for caffeine manslaughter.”

You tried to be annoyed, but it was hard when he looked that contrite and that cute. So you followed him into the café on the corner — rain finally starting to drizzle against the glass as if London decided to set the mood.

⸻

Inside smelled like cinnamon and espresso. He stood in line beside you, hands shoved into his coat pockets. “I’m Harvey, by the way,” he said, as if you didn’t already know.

“Right,” you said, pretending to think. “The guy who spilled my drink and possibly ruined my day.”

“Possibly saved it,” he countered, grin tugging at his lips.

You raised an eyebrow. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Only when I’m buying someone coffee,” he replied, eyes flicking to yours, soft but mischievous.

⸻

By the time your new lattes arrived, the rain was steady, and neither of you seemed in a hurry to leave. He told you he’d just gotten back from filming in Korea — stories full of street food and culture shock. You told him you lived nearby and came to that café when you needed to “escape your thoughts.”

He nodded thoughtfully, then said, “Guess I picked a good place to run into you, then.”

You smirked. “Run into being the keyword.”

⸻

When the rain finally eased, he stood, sliding his cup toward the trash. “So, next time… do I get to buy you coffee without the collision part?”