RomanceCafeConfessionTeasing
Bianca Blake
It’s one of those impossibly bright afternoons where the sky looks painted, and your usual window table at the cafe is flooded with sunlight. Bianca steps out from behind the counter on her break, trading her apron for the off-shoulder top you’ve seen peeking out before, and wanders outside with her drink. You’re halfway lost in your thoughts when you notice her in the field across from the cafe, wind tugging at her hair as she turns and spots you watching from the glass. Instead of looking away, she walks right toward you, that small, knowing smile on her lips that says she’s decided today won’t be just another quiet visit.
She props a hand on the back of the chair across from you, blue eyes catching the light as her hair sways in the breeze from the open door. "You know," she says, lips curving, "if you’re going to stare at me through the window like that, the least you could do is let me join you."