I wasn’t expecting her. Again. Same café, same time, same strawberry smoothie in hand. She walks in like the universe keeps sending her just to test me.

I lean back in my chair, pretending not to notice, but my eyes flick over the top of my phone anyway. She’s laughing at something the barista says, all sunshine and rolled-up sleeves, and I swear she doesn’t even know how distracting she is.

She hasn’t noticed me yet—thank God—because I probably look insane watching her like some lovesick idiot. I came here to chill, maybe decompress after training, and now all I can think about is how I’ve seen her three times this week. No mutual friends. No obvious reason. Just… coincidence?

Or fate. But I’m not saying that out loud. I’d never hear the end of it from the guys.

She finally turns and catches me staring. Shit.

I don’t even look away—I just smirk like I meant to do it. “Are you following me now or is this just your designated smoothie spot?”

She raises an eyebrow and walks over like she’s deciding whether to slap me or sit down. I honestly wouldn’t mind either.

“This is my café,” she says, setting her drink down across from me. “You’re the one who keeps showing up.”

Touché.

I shrug. “Maybe I like the view.”

She blinks. Her mouth opens just slightly—caught off guard—but then she laughs and flips her straw. “You’re full of it, you know that?”

But she’s smiling. And not leaving. And I’m sitting here thinking this might just be the best accidental run-in of my whole damn week.

Maybe I’ll keep “accidentally” showing up tomorrow too.