chapter 5 casual encounters

Bianca

It had been weeks since the fundraiser, and things at work had settled back into a kind of routine. Dean and I still danced around each other, exchanging small flirtations, but nothing more. He was a professional—his sharp, cool demeanor remained as always. And I? I did my best to keep things strictly professional, even as the temptation to break that boundary grew stronger by the day.

I couldn’t deny the heat that simmered between us whenever our paths crossed. The subtle glances. The way he always seemed to be just a little too close. But neither of us had crossed the line—at least not yet.

It was late on a Friday afternoon when I decided to take a break. The office was quiet, the buzz of conversations in the background had faded, and the sky outside had started to darken. I needed a pick-me-up. So, I grabbed my coat, slipped out of the office, and made my way to my favorite coffee shop a few blocks away.

It was a small, cozy place—dimly lit, with mismatched furniture that gave it a homey feel. The kind of place you could lose yourself in for hours without feeling like you were being watched. The kind of place I could sit, order my usual, and just... breathe.

I had just stepped inside, shaking off the evening chill, when I saw him.

Dean.

Standing in line at the counter, looking as effortlessly perfect as always. His jaw was slightly sharp, his eyes scanning the menu above the barista, but he looked out of place—like a wolf among sheep in the warm, casual atmosphere of the shop.

Of course, he wasn’t the type to hang out in places like this.

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to turn around and leave before he noticed me, but it was too late. The moment my eyes met his, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Bianca,” he said, his deep voice carrying across the room. There was an amused note in it, like he was surprised to see me here. “Fancy running into you.”

My heart skipped a beat, but I masked it with a cool, casual smile. “Dean. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Neither did I.” He stepped toward me, his gaze never leaving mine. “What’s your order? I’ll get it for you.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need to buy me coffee.”

His smile grew wider, his eyes twinkling with something dangerously close to mischief. “I insist. Consider it... a break from the usual.”

I shook my head, trying not to smile. “Fine. A caramel macchiato, extra hot.”

Dean nodded as he turned back toward the counter, ordering without hesitation. There was something about watching him—his confident, almost commanding presence even in such an ordinary setting—that made my chest tighten.

I decided to take a seat by the window, trying to distract myself from the growing tension in my gut. The last thing I needed was to get lost in thoughts about him. But when Dean arrived at the table, his coffee in hand and that same playful glint in his eyes, I couldn’t help but feel that familiar fluttering.

He slid into the chair across from me without asking, as if he had every right to be here, in my personal space. Maybe he did.

We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us sipping our drinks, but the quiet wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt... easy. Like we could talk for hours without needing to fill the space with words.

“Nice place,” he said, glancing around. “I didn’t take you for the ‘cozy coffee shop’ type.”

“Everyone has their secrets,” I replied, a playful edge to my voice. “What about you? This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

Dean’s smirk deepened. “Maybe I like surprising people.”

I laughed softly, more out of nerves than anything else. “Well, it’s definitely a surprise.”

There was a brief pause. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, like he was studying me, reading me in a way that made me feel both exposed and safe at the same time.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” he said, his voice lower now, like he was about to ask something important. “How have you been?”I blinked, caught off guard by the question. It wasn’t casual small talk—it felt real, like he genuinely wanted to know.

“I’ve been... okay,” I said, unsure why I was surprised. “Busy. You know how it is.”

He nodded, but there was something in his expression that made me feel like he wasn’t buying it. “Anything else?”

I paused, meeting his eyes. There was something strangely intimate in the way he was looking at me, like he could see right through the professional facade I’d been so careful to maintain.

I opened my mouth to respond, but just then, the barista called out my name. I stood quickly, eager to escape the weight of the moment.

“Thanks for the coffee,” I said, gathering my things. “But I should probably get going. Got work to do.”

Dean followed suit, standing up from the table, and as I turned to leave, he reached out and gently touched my arm.

“Wait,” he said, his voice softer than before. “You don’t have to go so soon. We could just... sit for a little longer. Talk. Get to know each other better.”

My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the tension rising between us again. We were so close now—too close. The air between us was thick with unspoken words.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I replied, my voice tight.

He didn’t pull away. Instead, he stepped just a fraction closer, his eyes locked on mine. “Why not?”

I swallowed, unsure how to answer. Because I was scared? Because the chemistry between us was so strong, I wasn’t sure I could handle it?

Before I could speak, he leaned in slightly, his lips brushing my ear. “You don’t have to be afraid, Bianca. I won’t bite.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. I turned to face him, but instead of taking a step back, I stood my ground. The tension was palpable, and for a moment, I felt like we were suspended in time.

But then, just as quickly, Dean pulled back, his usual cool smile back in place. “Next time, then.”

I nodded, trying to regain some composure. “Next time.”

I walked out of the coffee shop, my mind racing and my heart still pounding. I had no idea what was happening between us, but it was dangerous—and thrilling.

And I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep pretending I didn’t want more.