-Raya-
The bell over the door jingled as we stepped into the café.
It smelled like something out of a daydream—freshly baked cinnamon rolls, butter melting on toast, coffee brewing behind the counter. The walls were painted a soft sage green, the kind that made you want to take your time, and low jazz music floated through the air like a blanket.
Alec didn’t say anything as we walked in, just nodded once at the girl behind the counter who clearly knew him, then led us to a booth near the window.
I slid into the seat across from him, still a little unsure if I was dreaming.
“This place is cute,” I muttered, glancing around. “Didn’t even know it existed.”
“You wouldn’t. It’s quiet,” Alec replied, grabbing a menu.
“And that’s your criteria for breakfast?”
“No line. No noise.” He glanc
