Wells Hansen,

We at The New York Times are impressed with your candidacy for the journalist position. We'd love to proceed with a second in-person interview. Could you please provide your availability for the upcoming weeks?

Best,

Anna Jacobson
The New York Times

"What are you looking at?" Nora's voice startles me from behind, and I slam my laptop closed.

"Shit, Nora," I reply quickly, shaking my head as I glance over at her. "Are you always looking over my shoulder?"

She squints at me, giving me a discerning look. "You're not really thinking about going back to New York, are you?"

I reopen my laptop, offering a nonchalant shrug. The plan was always to return to New York. I came back to Seattle to help my mom with my dad until he recovered. But, when they informed us that his cancer had spread, I made the decision to stay until things changed, got better. But they never did. That was four years ago.

"Wells," she says, and I lift my gaze up to her. "You can't go back. Things are different now. You have a job you like. You've built a life here."

I study her as she busily wipes down the espresso machine. "Why does it matter to you? I hardly see you eight months out of the year. Only ever when I come to help you for the summers and holidays."

She pauses, locking her brown eyes with mine. "Well, what do you have in New York anyway?" Her tone sharpens as she wipes the steam arm more aggressively. "It's not like you have a fiancé waiting for you there," she mumbles quietly.

I shoot her a sidelong glance. "That's nice of you."

"Sorry. You know what I mean," she says, pausing. "There's nothing there for you anymore."

I exhale, fully turning towards her. "Nora, it was always the plan to go back to New York. You know this."

"Whatever," She sighs, tossing the rag on the counter. Her gaze drifts through the coffee shop window, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. I refocus on my computer screen. "How much longer do you think she's going to pace back and forth before she comes in?"

"What?" I respond, confused.

"Juniper," she says, and it feels like my body heats up by about ten degrees. I snap my head up at Nora. "She's been pacing back and forth for the last twenty minutes, like she's pumping herself up to come inside."

I quickly turn my head towards the window. Juniper's on the other side of the street, alternating between walking in one direction and then turning to walk the other.

It's been almost two days since the rodeo, since the kiss. After we went back in, her friends whisked her away without even really seeing me. She glanced back at me before disappearing into the crowd with them, and since then, I haven't seen or heard from her. I've thought about texting or calling, but I don't know. I'm not sure how this works.

I shift uneasily from one foot to the other, rubbing the spot between my eyebrows. Nora turns to me, her eyes widening a bit, a smirk tugging at her lips. "What did you do?"

I shake my head, my eyes still on Juniper outside. She knits her brows together as if in thought, then lets out a huff of air. "I didn't do anything," I say, clearing my throat.

"Oh my god. You did do something, didn't you?" Nora exclaims, her jaw slacking open as she leans up against the counter.

"I did nothing," I insist.

"Did you steal another article away from her?"

I frown at her. "No."

"Did you make another mean comment about her outfit?"

"No," I reply, hesitating for a moment. "Well, it wasn't mean."

"Is she actually stalking you now? Do you need to file a restraining order?"

"Nora, the only restraining order that needs to be filed is one against you." She rolls her eyes and stands up straight. "I really mean this in the nicest way possible, but mind your own damn business."

"Never," she says, popping one shoulder. "But I'll let it go for now. You get to close tonight because she's finally walking over here. I'm going out the back," she says, patting me on the shoulder before disappearing behind the backroom.

I quickly steal another glance through the window, catching a glimpse of Juniper walking towards the front entrance. A knot of nervousness tightens within me. I rub the back of my neck before shutting my laptop, stowing it away, and tidying up the rest of the coffee cups left over on the counter.

The door to the coffee shop swings open, and the little bell above it rings softly. Juniper walks in, dressed in a green dress with small, delicate bows on each slender strap on her shoulders. She's pretty. Very very pretty.

"Hey," I rasp out, my throat suddenly dry. I quickly clear it.

"Hi," she responds softly as she approaches the counter.

I place both hands on the counter and inhale deeply. "I was going to call yo–"

"Oh no," she interrupts, shaking her head. "That's okay. You don't need to."

I purse my lips, slowly nodding my head as I study her. "Juniper–"

"Wells, this can't happen between us," she says abruptly, biting her lip.

Well, that wasn't what I was expecting her to say. I'm not sure what I thought she'd say, but not that. Not after the rodeo.

I rub the back of my neck. "You've mentioned that before," I respond calmly.

"And I meant it."

"Is that why you kissed me the other day?" I retort.

She scoffs a laugh, then quickly snaps her mouth closed. She briefly places her fingers to her temple before dropping them back to her side.

I glance outside the window at the group of teenage girls walking towards the coffee shop. Looking down at my watch, I begin to walk around the counter to flip the open sign and lock the door.

"No, wait, stay on that side," she urges, extending her hands to stop me in my tracks.

I huff out a laugh. "Why?" I ask, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Because I don't trust myself with you," she blurts out, wincing and scrunching her nose as the words escape. Her cheeks turn pink, and she glances around, avoiding eye contact. It's cute. "The last three times I've seen you, I've kissed you," she admits more quietly.

I raise an eyebrow teasingly. "And you're afraid that if we're too close," I say, pausing with a smile tugging at my lips, "you won't be able to resist me?"

I know it must be a smug one, judging by the way she rolls her eyes at me.

Clearing my throat, straighten my posture. "May I please walk around the counter," I gesture to her side and over to the entrance, "and flip the sign to closed? So that I don't have to make four teenage girls a bunch of mocha Frappuccinos."

"Oh." Her gaze shifts behind her through the window, spotting the group of girls.

"I promise I won't be too tempting," I say with a sly grin.

She gives me a playful glare. "Sure."

I make my way around the counter, turn the sign on the door to "closed" and flip the lock. Slowly turning back to face her, I fix my gaze on her, studying the details of her in her pretty green dress. My eyes linger on the little bows on her shoulders, and an irresistible urge surfaces to pull on it, hoping it unties and pools to the floor.

"Don't," she says, and I snap my eyes back to hers.

"Don't what?"

She sucks in a breath. "Don't look at me like that," she utters, as if confessing something she'd rather not. As if she's trying to build a wall between us, even though she doesn't really want to.

"Like what?"

"Like you—like you want to kiss me."

I take another step toward her. "I do want to kiss you though."

"Well, you're not allowed to," She exclaims, taking a step back into the counter.

"Why not?"

"Because it's complicated, Wells."

"Well, please enlighten me because the way you kissed me the other day at the rodeo is saying something completely different than what you're saying now."

She releases an irritated grunt. "It's not just the no fraternizing rule." Her hands briefly press against her temples again. I hope to God it has nothing to do with her and Beckett. Hoping it's not her wanting to go back to him. She's smarter than that, though.

"My friend and I..." she pauses, closing her eyes briefly, "we have a no-boy pact for the summer," she confesses, her face flushing.

I press my lips together, suppressing the urge to laugh. "A no-boy pact," I echo, nodding my head. "Of course. How did I not know?

She looks at me incredulously, crossing her arms in defiance. "It wasn't my idea."

"Well good. Break it then."

She scoffs dismissively. "Absolutely not. I'm not breaking it."

"Why? They don't have to know." She shoots me a glare. "I meant...I'm sure they wouldn't care. So why?"

Her eyes lock onto mine with determination, "Because, Wells, when I say that I'll do something, I follow through."

I nod, processing this. Crossing my arm over my chest, I place a hand on my chin, tapping my fingers thoughtfully. "Is kissing really breaking your rules, though?"

"Yes! And it's not just that. I..." she pauses, a moment of thinking, then she adds hesitantly, "I don't– I don't want you to."

"You don't want me to or I'm not allowed to?"

She looks at me, and then her eyes dart around as if she's contemplating. "You're not allowed to."

I chuckle. "Okay, so what am I allowed to do then?"

She scrunches her eyes at me, shaking her head. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"Well, you didn't exactly say you didn't want me to. You just said I'm not allowed to. Therefore, you are implying you actually do want me to kiss you, I'm just not allowed to."

She opens her mouth as if to respond, then hesitates, biting the tip of her tongue, and shifts her gaze down toward her feet.

"So what am I allowed to do?" I say, taking a larger step closer to her. "Can I stand by you? Am I allowed to do that?"

She shakes her head listlessly, clearly exasperated by me. I lean against the counter next to her, mirroring her posture, arms crossed. She narrows her eyes at me but doesn't budge from her spot, as if trying to prove that I have no effect on her. But I can see the subtle swallow and the steady pulse picking up at the base of her neck.

She glances away from me again, looking down at her feet.

"Can I," I continue, hesitatingly taking the back of my two fingers, tracing them gently down her arm, "do this?"

Goosebumps ripple across her skin, and I can't help the urge to conceal my smirk. She meets my gaze again with those honey-brown eyes, studying my face intently. Darting across every feature of my face.

I inch even closer, asking, "Is this allowed?" One of my hands gliding along her hip to the small of her back, irresistibly drawing her nearer.

A sharp stillness settles between us, both of us wondering what the other will do. But when she doesn't resist, I press on, pulling her to me. Her hands find their way to my forearms, holding me in place. I dip my head to her ear.

"How about this?" I whisper, trailing my nose along her jaw.

Her breath hitches, prompting me to draw back and look at her. Her light brown eyes lock with mine, breath erratic, cheeks rosy—fuck, she's pretty.

"What about this?" I whisper.

Notes

Let me know If the beginning of this chapter felt random, I had to go back and added some details to Wells. I was supposed to do it earlier, butit just got away from me.

But, how'd you like the rest of it?

Thank you everyone for reading, commenting, and voting. It truly means alot! ❤️