“You’re overthinking,” he said, looking over the rim of his coffee cup, across the table from me. I stopped and frowned. Who did he think he was, this local kid, who could barely consider himself a coworker? Who was only sitting here with me because I had nothing better to do? Or because I was too taken aback to say no to this invite? Or because — I don’t know, there were a million reasons.

Was it because of his looks? Oh God. I’m not that person am I? I’ve been working my whole life to not be THAT person. I shouldn’t have gone to that company event. The one where he was playing volleyball. And his muscles flexed beneath his navy t-shirt. Holy crap do you hear this? Are you reading this? How embarrassing. Really.

But I am just trying to be honest. I think that’s why — why I accepted the invite to grab a coffee. Why I got into his white pickup. Why I kept accepting invites to coffee for no good reason. The boy would never amount to anything and never mean anything. I was just bored. He acted like I was giving him some gift, the gift of my company. He told me I was amazing, beautiful, smart. I rolled my eyes inwardly. I still didn’t know why I was even sitting there across from him.

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