Samantha’s POV:
I blinked, surprised. “Piano? Really?”
He nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “My grandmother taught me when I was a kid. She was brilliant. I’m not, but it helps clear my head.”
The mention of his grandmother brought a softness to his expression, and I felt a flicker of understanding. Maybe there was more to him than I had given him credit for.
“What about you?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. “What’s something you love that has nothing to do with bad dates?”
I chuckled, swirling my latte with the spoon. “Art. Painting, specifically. It’s my escape.”
His eyes lit up with genuine interest. “Painting? What kind of stuff do you paint?”
“Landscapes, mostly. Sometimes abstract when I’m in a mood.” I paused, looking at him curiously.
“Do you ever share your music
