Maya Chen pushed through the glass door of Brew & Byte, the aroma of freshly ground coffee hitting her like a warm hug. The cozy Seattle café, with its exposed brick walls and mismatched furniture, was her sanctuary—a place where she could code in peace and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Her laptop bag swung against her hip as she scanned the room for her spot: the corner table by the window, where the sunlight was just right and the outlet was within reach.
But *he* was there. Again.
Slouched in *her* chair, with a mop of dark curls and a navy hoodie, was the guy she'd mentally dubbed the Bandwidth Bandit. His MacBook was open, a tangle of cords spilling onto the table, and he was tapping away like he owned the place. Maya's jaw tightened. For three days straight, this guy had beaten her to the table—and worse, she'd noticed her Wi-Fi lagging every time he was around.
She marched over, clutching her iced latte. "Excuse me," she said, her voice sharp but polite. "You're in my spot."
The guy looked up, and Maya was momentarily thrown by his eyes—hazel, with a glint of mischief. He grinned, leaning back in the chair like he was settling in for a Netflix marathon. "Your spot? I don't see a nameplate."
Maya raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the café. "I've been coming here every morning for two years. That's my table. And you're hogging the Wi-Fi."
He chuckled, unfazed, and pushed his glasses up his nose. "Hogging the Wi-Fi? Bold accusation. I'm just streaming some lo-fi beats to code to. You know, ambiance."
"Ambiance that's tanking my connection," Maya shot back, setting her bag down on the table with a pointed thud. "I've got a pitch deck to finish, and I can't afford lag."
He tilted his head, studying her like she was a bug in his code. "Pitch deck, huh? Startup life? Let me guess—app developer?"
Maya blinked, caught off guard. "How'd you—"
"Your sticker-covered laptop and the death glare when the Wi-Fi buffers," he said, nodding at her bag. "Classic coder vibe. I'm Ethan, by the way. Graphic designer. Freelance, so I'm basically a nomad with a MacBook."
"Maya," she said reluctantly, not sure why she was still standing there. "And I need this table."
Ethan leaned forward, his grin widening. "Tell you what, Maya. Share the table, and I'll ease up on the bandwidth. Deal?"
She hesitated. The café was packed, and the other tables were either taken or too close to the espresso machine's hiss. Plus, her pitch for her app—a social platform for local artists—was due in three days, and she couldn't afford to waste time hunting for another spot.
"Fine," she muttered, sliding into the chair across from him. "But if my connection drops, you're buying my next coffee."
"Deal," Ethan said, his eyes crinkling. He plugged his laptop into a power strip and pushed it toward her. "Outlet's all yours."
Maya plugged in, opened her laptop, and tried to focus. But Ethan's presence was like a pop-up ad—annoying and impossible to ignore. He hummed softly to whatever was playing in his earbuds, his fingers flying over his keyboard. Every few minutes, he'd glance up, like he was checking if she was still glaring.
She was.
"So," he said after a while, pulling out one earbud. "What's the app? Dating? Fitness? Another crypto scam?"
Maya snorted despite herself. "It's called ArtVibe. Connects local artists with galleries, pop-up events, stuff like that. Helps them get discovered."
Ethan nodded, looking genuinely interested. "Cool. Like Etsy meets Eventbrite, but for art?"
"Kind of," she admitted, surprised he got it. "What about you? Designing logos for hipster breweries?"
He laughed, a low, warm sound. "Nah, I'm working on a branding package for a nonprofit. But I *did* do a brewery logo once. They paid me in IPA."
Maya smirked, her guard slipping a fraction. "Sounds like a fair trade."
They fell into a tentative silence, the clack of keyboards filling the space. But as Maya worked on her pitch deck, she couldn't shake the feeling that Ethan was still stealing something—her focus, maybe. Or worse, her sanity. Because for the first time in months, she wasn't just thinking about code or deadlines.
She was thinking about the guy across the table. And that was a bug she didn't know how to fix.