Aria
I stirred my iced tea lazily, my gaze bouncing between the bustling coffee shop around me and James's familiar, calm expression. The noise, the movement—it should've distracted me, but my mind kept drifting, looping back to Ethan, Rowan's words, and the mystery woman who had disappeared as if she'd never existed. Still, despite the storm in my head, there was something grounding about being here with James. He had this way of making things feel lighter, even when they weren't.
"I still can't get over it," I said, breaking the silence. "Ethan. At a bar. I mean, really? It's like… picturing a nun at a rock concert. It just doesn't fit."
James smirked, his fingers drumming lightly on his coffee cup. "Maybe Ethan has a wild side you've never seen. Could be he's secretly the life of the party."
"Yeah, sure," I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. "Life of the party until someone suggests karaoke, and he turns it into a negotiation seminar."
James laughed—a low, easy laugh—and raised his cup in mock salute. "Hey, seminars can be fun. You just have to pick the right audience."
I rolled my eyes. "You'd say that. You're the kind of guy who'd bring a PowerPoint to a staff social."
"Only if the slides are about pie distribution," he shot back with a widening grin. "And for the record, I'd nail that seminar."
"Ridiculous," I muttered, shaking my head even as I smiled.
"You love it," he said, leaning back with that smug, self-satisfied look he was so good at.
I paused, my smile fading just a little as I stirred my drink again. The words came softer this time, almost to myself. "It's just so weird. Ethan… drinking too much? That's never been his thing. He's always so… put together."
James shrugged, his expression thoughtful now. "Everyone cracks at some point. Maybe it's just been building, and last night was his breaking point."
His words hung in the air, making me frown as my fingers traced the rim of my glass. "Rowan said something similar," I admitted. "He mentioned Ethan's dad is worried about strangers getting too close to him. And now, this woman shows up, takes him home, and then vanishes. It's just… odd."
"Odd?" James echoed, teasing lightly. "The word you're looking for is 'fascinating.' Mystery woman, unexpected drunken escapade—it's like a plot twist in a movie."
"Except it's real life," I shot back, my brows knitting together, "and Ethan's stuck in the middle of it. I just… worry about him, you know? He's under so much pressure, and he won't let anyone help him."
James tilted his head, watching me closely. His voice was steady when he spoke, not accusing, just matter-of-fact. "You've got a soft spot for him."
I shrugged, glancing away to avoid his gaze. "I mean, I care about him. But not like that."
"Not like that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," I said firmly, though even I could hear the faint waver in my voice. "Ethan's… complicated. He's got so much going on, and I can't picture myself fitting into his world. It's too heavy, too… restricted."
James nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Fair enough."
I let the moment hang there before speaking again, my thoughts shifting to Rowan and Cass. "I guess… I look at Rowan and Cass sometimes, and I can't help but feel a little jealous."
James's lips curved into a faint smile. "They've got a good thing. You can't blame yourself for wanting something like that."
"They're just so… balanced," I murmured, my voice soft, tinged with admiration. "They're not weighed down by obligations or expectations. They're just… them. And I want that."
James chuckled quietly, his gaze warm when it met mine. "You'll get there. You're picky, that's all."
"Picky?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes playfully. "Says the man who's never had a girlfriend."
His grin widened, completely unbothered. "Who says I've never had a girlfriend?"
"Oh, please," I said, leaning forward with a smirk. "I've known you for years, and I've never seen you even think about dating someone. Why is that?"
James shrugged, his tone light but teasing. "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right person."
I narrowed my eyes at him, curious now. "Really? That's a cop-out answer."
"And yet," he said, leaning forward slightly, his grin softening, "it's true."
I tilted my head, studying him, my curiosity piqued. "Okay, so who's the 'right person,' then?"
James held my gaze for a moment, his smirk fading into something quieter. "If you really want to know," he said, his tone almost casual but somehow not at all, "she's sitting across from me."
The words hung there, heavier than the conversation that preceded them. My lips parted, but no words came. I didn't know what to say. Why is my heart beating faster?
James leaned back, breaking the tension with a grin. "See? That's how you leave a friend speechless."
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head as the moment slipped back into our usual banter. "You're impossible."
"And you're predictable," he shot back, raising his cup in a playful toast. "Cheers to that."
I laughed again, but even as I did, his earlier words echoed in my mind. The right person? She's sitting across from me.
Was he joking? Probably. James was always good at catching me off guard with his humor. But something about the way he'd said it… the way his voice shifted just slightly, made me wonder.
What if he wasn't joking?
The thought fluttered through me, light and uncertain. I hadn't really thought of James that way—not seriously. But now, the idea lingered. James wasn't complicated like Ethan. He was steady, dependable, the kind of person who'd stand by you without hesitation.
But was I just overthinking it?
I glanced up at him, studying his face as he stirred his coffee. His grin had softened now, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced with something quieter.
"James," I said cautiously, testing the waters.
He looked up, his smile easy. "Yeah?"
I hesitated, unsure how to even phrase what I was thinking. Instead, I shook my head, smiling faintly. "Never mind."
James chuckled softly, leaning forward. "You know, you're not great at hiding when something's on your mind."
"I wasn't hiding," I said quickly, though the warmth creeping up my cheeks betrayed me.
"Uh-huh," he teased, the grin returning. "Sure you weren't."
I rolled my eyes, though my smile stayed. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"
"And yet," he said, his grin widening, "you keep coming back for more."
I laughed, letting the moment pull me back to a more familiar place. But the thought still lingered, flickering faintly in the back of my mind.
What if he wasn't joking?