How Can I Make Him Fall For Me

Chapter 2: Accidental Encounters

I had convinced myself that I’d played it cool yesterday. That brief moment when Jason had actually looked at me? Totally under control. Right?

Wrong.

The moment I walked into the campus café this morning, my stomach did a very uncooperative flip. And, of course, guess who was already there, leaning against the counter with his signature effortless charm, chatting with the barista like he owned the place?

Jason Anderson.

I froze for a second, gripping the strap of my bag like it was a lifeline. Why did he always look so… perfect? The sunlight catching the hint of gold in his brown hair, that smirk that seemed just for him, the confident tilt of his shoulders… It was infuriatingly distracting.

I tried to pretend I hadn’t seen him. Smoothly. Casually. Like I didn’t want to practically sprint over and… I don’t know, wave or something.

“Aria?”

My head snapped toward the sound, and there he was—Jason Anderson—smiling that infuriating, slightly teasing smile directly at me.

“Uh… hi,” I managed, my voice higher than intended. Why did that happen every single time?

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the empty seat across from me. He didn’t wait for an answer before sliding into the chair. Smooth. Natural. Exasperating.

I tried to act casual, pulling out my phone and pretending to check messages. “Sure… I mean, yeah. Go ahead.” My voice betrayed none of the inner panic. Okay, maybe a little.

“So,” he began, leaning back comfortably, “you’re the girl who almost tripped over a soccer ball yesterday.”

I froze again. He remembered. Of course he remembered. How could I ever forget that mortifying moment?

“It was… uh, a tactical maneuver,” I blurted, instantly regretting the words. Tactical maneuver? Really, Aria? Did you just turn a trip into a strategy?

Jason chuckled, the sound warm and rich. “Right. Tactical maneuver. Makes sense.” His smirk widened. “I like your confidence.”

Confidence. Ha. If only he knew how much of that was pure panic masquerading as bravery.

I tried to shift the conversation to safer territory. “So… do you come here often?” Classic. Smooth. Totally not awkward.

He raised an eyebrow. “The café? Sometimes. Only when I’m not busy being important elsewhere.”

I laughed, a little too loudly. “Important, huh? You make it sound like a full-time job.”

“It kind of is,” he said, leaning forward with a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Keeping people from being bored… that’s exhausting work.”

I rolled my eyes, pretending to be unimpressed, even though my heart was doing backflips. “Sure, of course. The heroic Jason Anderson, saving the campus from boredom one laugh at a time.”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “You have a witty streak, Aria. I like that.”

My stomach flipped. Did he mean it, or was he just being polite? Does it even matter?

We lapsed into a brief silence, the kind that’s not uncomfortable, but heavy with… potential. I took a sip of my coffee to buy myself a few moments of composure.

“So,” he said finally, his tone casual but his gaze sharp, “are you always this clumsy, or was yesterday a special performance?”

I almost choked on my coffee. “Special performance,” I managed, setting the cup down carefully. “Only for… select audiences.”

His smirk returned, sharper this time, and I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “Lucky me, I guess.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but at that moment, my phone buzzed. A text from my best friend, reminding me that I had a group project meeting in ten minutes. Perfect timing. Absolutely perfect.

“I… uh, I have to go,” I said, standing up abruptly. My bag slipped from my shoulder, and I bent to grab it, only to bump into Jason’s chair. Again.

Jason’s laughter filled the café, light and teasing. “You really do have a talent for… accidents, don’t you?”

“I—yes, I’m gifted,” I said, straightening and giving him a mock bow. “A gift you’ll probably never appreciate.”

“I appreciate it,” he said, eyes glinting with amusement. “Maybe I’ll need to see more of these… performances.”

And just like that, he was gone, sliding out of the café with that effortless grace, leaving me standing there, heart racing, trying not to replay every word in my head.

I walked to my meeting, thinking about how ridiculous this all was. Jason Anderson… noticing me. Talking to me. Laughing at my awkward jokes. My mind was spinning with possibilities—and strategies.

Step one: grab his attention. Done.

Step two: keep his attention. In progress.

Step three… well, step three was going to be the tricky part. Making Jason Anderson—Mr. Smooth, Mr. Uncatchable—fall for me.

And I was nothing if not determined.