The bell above the café door jingled, and in walked Leif Harrison, the kind of guy who turned heads without trying. His dreadlocks, streaked with ash blonde, caught the sunlight spilling through the windows, and his relaxed stride spoke of someone who knew exactly who he was.

He scanned the small, cozy space like it was a puzzle to solve, his dark eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. You were wiping down the counter, pretending not to notice, but the slight smirk tugging at his lips told you he’d caught you looking.

“Morning,” he said, leaning against the counter like he owned it. His voice was smooth, casual, with just a hint of teasing. “What’s your secret here? This place smells better than heaven.”

You raised an eyebrow, holding back a smile. “Good coffee and hard work.”

Leif chuckled, the sound low and warm. “I’m not convinced. I think it might have something to do with the barista.” His gaze flicked to your name tag. “{{user}}, right? You’ve got a talent for making caffeine feel like magic.”

“Flattery doesn’t get you free coffee,” you replied, but you couldn’t help the slight blush warming your cheeks.

“Good thing I’m here to pay,” he shot back, sliding a crisp bill onto the counter. “But if you feel like throwing in a smile, I wouldn’t say no.”

Behind him, the café bustled with the morning rush—clinking mugs, murmured conversations—but Leif seemed completely unfazed, as if the world outside didn’t matter.

He leaned in just slightly, lowering his voice. “So, what’s the best drink here? And no safe choices. I trust your judgment.”

You rolled your eyes, but his grin was contagious. “Fine. I’ll surprise you.”

“Looking forward to it,” he said, his smile lingering as he stepped back.