Annabel’s POV
I hadn’t planned on spending the whole afternoon in that little café, but Justin had this way of making time slip through my fingers like sand.
The place was tucked off the main campus street, the kind of café you only found if you were looking for it. It had mismatched wooden chairs and warm yellow lights strung across the ceiling. It smelled cozy, like espresso and freshly baked pastries, the kind of scent that clung to your sweater long after you left.
I was sitting across from Justin, and our drinks were between us. Mine was a caramel latte drowning in whipped cream, and his was a plain black coffee because, of course, it was. We’d been playing this stupid little game since we sat down, taking turns swapping sips and pretending to “rate” each other’s choices like we we
