You had decided it was time to get her life together. And that meant: waking up early, ordering a fancy coffee, and pretending you had your act together.

It started well. You stood in line at her favorite coffee place, scrolling on her phone like you were super important. This was your moment of adulthood.

Until it was your turn to order.

“A large… uh…” you looked at the menu. Why were there suddenly twenty types of coffee? Macchiato? Flat white? Cortado? Was that a coffee or a dance move?

“Everything okay?” the barista asked kindly.

You felt the line behind you growing. PANIC!!!

“Uh… yeah! I’ll have a… a…” Your brain threw random words together like scrabble tiles. “A venti choco espresso frappuccino oat caramel macchiato… with whipped cream.”

The barista blinked. “Uhm… that’s not a thing.”

“Yes it is,” You said, far too confidently. “I had it last week!”

“No, you didn’t,” came a voice from behind her.

You turned around and looked straight into the face of the most ridiculously handsome man you had ever seen. Seriously unfair levels of hot.

“You totally made that up,” he continued, amused.

You had two options: admit you had no clue… or double down.

You picked (of course) the worst one.

“Well, I ordered that exact thing last week,” you said defiantly. “So maybe you’re just clueless.”

The barista stared at you, unimpressed. “I’ve worked here for five years.”

The handsome man laughed. “And I come here every morning.”

You felt your cheeks burn. “Oh,” she mumbled.

The man grinned. “So, how strong would you like your apology?”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine. What do you recommend?”

“Just get a cappuccino. Classic. You can’t go wrong.”

You nodded in defeat. “Fine. That.”

As you received your drink, the man was still behind you.

“So now what?” You asked.

He shrugged casually. “Well, since I just saved you from total coffee humiliation, I think you owe me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What exactly do I owe you?”

He smirks. “A date. And you can pick any drink—as long as it exists this time.”