Page 14 of Isaia

She chuckles then straightens, eyes narrowing slightly as she gives me a once-over. “You look…I don’t know, different?”

“Different?”

“Happier than usual. Something happen?”

I wave her off. “Just the usual—life, chaos, dogs tackling strangers in the park.”

Molly's face lights up. “Strangers? Do tell.”

“Nothing to tell.”

She leans forward, her elbows on the counter, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Come on, you're holding out on me. Strangers don't just get tackled by dogs every day. What happened?”

I roll my eyes, but the smile on my face gives me away. “Fine. So, Luna, being her usual self, runs straight into this guy—tangles him up like a damn rodeo. And he was not the kind of guy who looks like he gets tangled up often. Dark, brooding, intense, like he could be plotting world domination.”

Molly’s brow quirks. “Oh, this just got interesting. Keep going.”

I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. “It was hilarious, but he was so serious about it. Like, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to strangle me or just run away from the chaos.”

“Broody, tangled-up stranger. Does he have a name?”

“Isaia,” I say casually, but the sound of his name still rolls around my head like it’s clinging to something more.

Molly grins. “And? Was there…a vibe?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Molly, not every random run-in with a guy is a romantic moment.”

“Oh, but youwantit to be, don't you?”

I shrug, pretending to be indifferent. “Let's just say…he wasn't the easiest guy to forget.”

“Did you give him your number?”

“No.”

“Did he give you his?”

“No.”

“Oh, my God.” She throws her hands in the air. “Amateur.”

“He did ask me to have a drink with him.”

Her eyes go wide with excitement. “And how did that go?”

“Oh, I didn’t go.”

She balks. “What?”

I take a sip of my coffee. “I said no to the drink.”

I’m pretty sure Molly’s eye starts twitching. “You need help. And by help, I mean dick.”

I snort and cough at the same time I’m trying to swallow a mouthful of coffee, and the foam goes everywhere. “Jesus, Molly. You’re as subtle as a trainwreck.” I take the napkin and wipe the oak counter clean. “Anyway, it’s not like I’ll see him again.”

The bells above the door chime, and Molly’s expression shifts instantly—her back straightens, and she glances past my shoulder.

“Holy shit.”

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