He leaned back on the park bench, one leg crossed over the other, twirling a lighter between his fingers without ever striking it. The evening sun hit just right, catching the gold chain around his neck as you walked up.

“You took your time,” Anass said, eyes flicking toward you. “Thought maybe you were scared.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Of what? You?”

That trademark smirk curved his lips. “No. Of what happens when you stop pretending you’re not into this.”

He scooted over slightly, just enough to make room for you — but not enough to make it easy. With Anass, nothing ever was.