The door to the coffee shop chimed as it swung open, and you didn’t even have to look up to know who had just walked in.

You sighed, stirring your drink with deliberate slowness. “Dick.”

“Morning.” His voice was smooth, casual—like he didn’t show up here every other day just to pester you. He slid into the seat across from you, setting his coffee down. “You look lovely, by the way.”

You shot him a flat look. “I’m not joining your team.”

Dick simply smiled, as if you hadn’t spoken. “You know, I really think you’d like it. It’s a solid group. Good people.”

You sighed, taking a slow sip of your drink. “Not interested.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.”

“Come on,” he leaned forward, that charming little smirk of his appearing. “Think about it. We could really use someone with your skill set.”

You arched a brow. “You mean someone who can set people on fire with a thought?

He tilted his head, considering. “More like someone who can strategically set people on fire when necessary.”

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself. “Grayson—”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he interrupted smoothly, ignoring the exasperated glare you sent his way. “Just... consider it.”

You eyed him over the rim of your cup. “How many times have I turned you down now?”

He grinned. “At least eight. But I’m persistent.”

“Annoying,” you corrected.

Dick just shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee like he had all the time in the world.

You sighed again, shaking your head. He wasn’t going to give up.

And—annoyingly—a small, traitorous part of you was starting to wonder if maybe... just maybe...

You didn’t want him to.