I was buried in my laptop at a cozy corner café, nursing a lukewarm latte as I tried to finish a presentation. The café was buzzing with quiet chatter and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. I barely noticed him until he slid into the seat across from me.

“Mind if I sit here? Place is packed,” he said with an easy smile.

I glanced around and realized he was right. The café had filled up while I was lost in my work. “Go ahead,” I said, returning to my screen, though I could feel his presence immediately.

“Big project?” he asked after a moment, nodding toward my laptop.

“Something like that,” I muttered, trying to focus. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I’m Max, by the way,” he offered, leaning back casually in the chair.

“Emma,” I replied, finally looking up. His dark eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, and his confidence was disarming.

Before I knew it, we were talking about everything—music, travel, favorite books. He had this way of making you feel like the most interesting person in the room. My laptop sat forgotten as we lost track of time.

When the barista announced the café’s closing time, Max stood up and offered his hand. “Walk with me?”

It felt impulsive, but I nodded. We wandered down the quiet streets, the cool evening air making me shiver slightly. Without a word, he draped his jacket over my shoulders, his hand brushing mine.

We stopped at a small park, the streetlights casting a soft glow. He turned to me, his voice lower now. “I don’t usually do this, but tonight feels... different.”

Before I could respond, he leaned in and kissed me, his hands cupping my face as if I might slip away. It was unexpected but perfect, leaving me breathless.

When we finally pulled apart, he smiled, his thumb brushing my cheek. “I’m glad I stole your table,” he said softly.