The cafe was busier than usual that afternoon, golden light spilling through the wide glass panes and catching on the steam that curled above the espresso machine. Alina balanced the tray in her hands, steady despite the chatter and clinking cups around her. She had timed it perfectly. Maya was still finishing up behind the counter, distracted by a complicated order. For once, Alina had the chance.
He sat in his usual spot. By the window, angled slightly toward the street, like he wanted the world outside to be his stage. He wasn't reading or on his phone. He rarely was. He sat with that maddening ease, long fingers draped against the handle of his cup, dark eyes sweeping the room lazily, as if every small movement belonged to him somehow.
And Alina could feel it. That pull.
She drew a quiet breath, stepped forward, and set the tray down on his table.
"Your coffee," she said, her tone carefully polite but softer than she meant it to be.
He lifted his head. His gaze caught hers with startling directness, like he had been waiting all along. The corner of his mouth curved, not a full smile, but something that hovered close to amusement, interest, challenge.
"You?" he said, low and amused, as if the single word was enough to unravel her.
His voice sounds familiar, doesn't it? But where did I hear… she thought for a moment and threw her thoughts away.
"Yes," Alina replied, standing straighter. "Why? Were you expecting someone else?"
A pause. His smirk deepened. He leaned back in his chair, one hand curling around the cup she'd just placed before him. "Hmm. No. But I didn't think you'd be the one running drinks to my table. Bold of you."
Heat prickled along her neck. She had meant it to look casual, a matter-of-fact duty. But of course, He had to twist it, turn it into something else. Something charged.
"Maybe I was just being efficient," she said, lifting her chin.
"Maybe." His eyes lingered on her, dark and knowing. "But efficiency doesn't usually come with that look."
Her stomach dipped. "What look?"
"The one you're giving me now."
Alina froze, trying to school her expression, but the damage was done. His smirk stretched wider, devilishly satisfied.
Before she could snap back, Maya's voice cut across the café.
"Alina!"
The sharpness of it made her glance toward the counter. Maya was there, frowning slightly, wiping her hands on a cloth as if she'd just noticed Alina's absence.
Alina.. He whispered her name slowly, word by word, as if it were the sweetest dish.
Did he just…No, I might have heard. After a long pause, she uttered. Did he just call my name? Alina forced herself not to say anything to him. "Excuse me," she murmured to the guy who was sitting in front of him, taking a step back.
But his voice caught her before she could turn fully.
"Alina."
Her name slid from him like velvet, deliberate, slow. When she met his eyes again, he was stirring his coffee lazily, gaze half-lidded, as though this were all a game and she'd only just agreed to play.
"You're better at this than Maya," he said casually, gesturing at the cup. "I might have to order you from now on."
The remark sent a pulse of satisfaction through her and a spark of dread. Because Maya had heard him. She stiffened behind the counter, cloth twisting in her hands.
Alina offered a polite smile, hiding her own thrill. "I'll keep that in mind."
His smirk said he knew exactly what she was hiding. And just like that, the cat-and-mouse had begun.
Alina hadn't meant to linger. At least, that's what she told herself.
But half an hour later, she was still circling Mr. Stranger's side of the cafe, straightening napkin dispensers that didn't need straightening, collecting cups that weren't his, her eyes inevitably drifting toward the window seat.
He hadn't moved much. He sat like a figure out of a painting, stretched in his chair, coffee untouched for long stretches before he'd lift the cup and sip with languid precision. His gaze wandered lazily over the street, over the other customers, until inevitably it found hers again.
Every time it happened, Alina's chest gave a startled jolt, as if she'd been caught stealing something.
The third time their eyes met, His smirk sharpened. He tapped a finger against the rim of his cup. "Is it part of your job to orbit me, or is this a special service?"
Her tray wobbled. "I….I'm just working."
"Mm." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, dark eyes fixed on her. "Working. Right. Tell me, does 'working' usually involve staring at one customer more than the others?"
Alina swallowed, forcing her composure back into place. "I'm making sure everything's clean."
"Of course." He let the words hang, tone silk and smoke, until a corner of his mouth curved again. "Then I should spill something on my table to give you an excuse to stay longer."
Her pulse jumped. "Please don't."
"Why not? You'd like it."
The boldness of it hit her square in the chest, stealing her reply. She hated how easily he did that …threw a few words and left her struggling to catch air.
Before she could answer, Maya appeared, practically materializing at his side.
"Sir," Maya said brightly, too brightly, setting down a plate of pastries that hadn't been ordered. "On the house. I thought you might want something sweet with your coffee."
His eyes flicked to the plate, then to Maya. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted his gaze back to Alina.
"Tempting," he murmured. "But I think I've already got enough sweetness at my table."
Maya blinked. "Oh…"
Alina's breath caught. He did mean…No. No, he wasn't that direct. He was playing. Always playing. His eyes told her as much, glittering with that sly, unreadable amusement.
Maya recovered quickly, forcing a laugh. "You're impossible. Always joking." She slid into the empty chair across from him without invitation, leaning forward as if to stake her claim. "So, you've been coming here so often lately."
He didn't look away from Alina. Not once. Alina, feeling the weight of his gaze like a hand pressing against her skin, forced herself to move. She turned away, gathering empty mugs from the next table,
He didn't utter a word; just a stare was enough for her, and she knew it!
She carried the mugs back to the counter, setting them down with more force than necessary. Her cheeks burned, her thoughts tangled. She hadn't even wanted to play this game. Not really. And yet, here she was, heart stuttering with every look, every word, every tease.
And He… He seemed to thrive on it. When she glanced back again, He was already watching her. His eyes never saw her. It's always her.
By the time the cafe had quieted into its late evening, Alina was exhausted from pretending she wasn't hyperaware of him. Every step she took, every glass she polished, she felt His gaze ghosting after her. And yet, she kept drifting back.
Her excuse this time was a stack of menus that needed wiping. She stopped near his table, head bent, cloth moving in steady circles. She thought maybe, just maybe, he'd let her pass unnoticed. But he never let her off easy.
''Careful is one word enough for her
Alina froze, then glanced up. He was leaning back in his chair, arms folded loosely, smirk curving like he'd been waiting for her.
"I'm just doing my job," she muttered.
"Mm. You've said that before." His eyes gleamed. "You keep saying it, I might almost believe you."
Her lips parted, searching for a retort, but then …he moved.
In one slow, deliberate motion, He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. And then lower still, until he bent halfway down, so his face hovered just above hers where she stood with the menus clutched to her chest.
The sudden closeness stole her breath.
"Tell me," he said softly, voice pitched for her alone, "do you do this for every customer? Or am I special?"
Alina's pulse hammered. He was so close she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes, the curve of his lashes, the faintest quirk at the corner of his mouth.
"You…" She swallowed hard. "You're impossible."
"Ah." His smirk deepened. "So I am special."
Heat raced through her, equal parts irritation and something far more dangerous. She shifted back a fraction, trying to regain space, but Kai followed the movement with his gaze, like a predator amused by its prey's attempt to escape.
"Alina!" Maya's voice cracked through the air, sharp as glass.
Alina jerked back as if burned. Maya stood a few steps away, tray in hand, her smile brittle at the edges. "Could you grab those dishes from the corner table? They've been waiting."
Alina nodded quickly, grateful for the excuse, though her heart thundered. She turned, forcing her feet to carry her away. Her steps faltered. Heat flared in her chest. She didn't look back... She didn't have to. She knew he was smirking.
At a distant Maya's smile faded, one day, Alina would notice. She would ask questions Maya couldn't deflect, untouched until it cooled.
But for now, Maya kept the secret, letting Alina breathe in this fragile peace.
Because once the truth unraveled, nothing would feel the same again.