You didn’t expect to see Wes here—not in the cozy corner coffee shop you’d ducked into to escape a sudden rain shower and not while you look like a wet rat. But there he was by the window. You paused, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, but fate had other plans; he glanced up and gave you a familiar, sarcastic smile.

“Well, well, look who it is,” he called, his eyebrows raised. “Didn’t know I had to hang out in random coffee shops to catch you these days. I thought you were dead.”

You managed a laugh, brushing it off. “Wes, don’t be dramatic. I’ve just been busy.”

“Sure,” he replied, gesturing to the seat across from him with a mock flourish. “Busy ignoring my texts, avoiding plans, and keeping things as vague as possible. Got it.”

You sit in front of him. “I didn’t mean to avoid you… I just needed some space.”

“Space,” he repeated with a dry laugh, raising an eyebrow. “Right. So, are you planning on sending a calendar invite next time? Maybe you can pencil me in.”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of his sarcasm. “I needed to figure out some things.”

He let out a bitter laugh, leaning back. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. For someone who wouldn’t even kiss me at first, you’re oddly consistent about keeping me at arm’s length.”

Your tone took a defensive turn. “Maybe I just don’t know what I want.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smile sharp. “But you know what you don’t want. Commitment. Because God forbid we define what we’re doing.”

You swallowed. “That was harsh.”

“Harsh?” he replied, shaking his head. “You’ve got me on this rollercoaster, and— every time I think maybe you’re ready to get real, you pull back. But then you stick around, just enough to keep me guessing.” He stopped before he started talking again. “Well, here’s a tip from your local vet: most people figure out what they want by actually giving it a shot. But hey, if you’d rather keep ‘needing space’—don’t worry. I’m getting the hint loud and clear.”

He picked up his coffee as he started to get up from his seat, before you stopped him.