Dangerous Habits
725 Words
Courtney didn't notice when it started becoming a routine. At first, it was just coincidence then timing then expectation. And now? It was habit.
Renz Cortez walked into her café every morning at exactly 9:10. Not 9:09. Not 9:11 but 9:10. And somehow, without ever discussing it, his caramel latte was always ready by the time he reached the counter.
"You're predictable," Courtney said one morning, sliding the cup toward him.
"You're prepared," Renz replied.
"That's because I run a business."
"That's not the only reason."
Courtney paused then shrugged. "Don't overthink it."
But she was and so was he. It showed in the way their conversations lingered longer now. In the way silence between them didn't feel empty anymore. In the way Renz no longer stood stiffly at the counter but stayed—sometimes for minutes, sometimes longer.
Sometimes until his coffee went cold.
"You're not drinking that," Courtney pointed out, nodding at his untouched cup.
"I will."
"You said that ten minutes ago."
Renz glanced at it, then back at her. "I got distracted."
Courtney smirked. "By what?"
A pause then— "You."
Her breath hitched—just slightly. "Careful," she said, forcing a light tone. "That sounds like flirting."
"I don't flirt."
"That sounded exactly like flirting."
"Then you're misinterpreting it."
Courtney laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're unbelievable."
"And yet," he said, taking a sip this time, "you keep talking to me."
Before she could respond, the café door swung open.
"Courtney!" Lia's voice filled the room again, followed closely by Marco, who looked far less enthusiastic about being dragged inside.
"You disappeared last night!" Lia said, dropping into a seat near the counter. "We were supposed to watch a movie!"
"I had inventory," Courtney replied.
"You always have 'inventory' when you're avoiding something."
"I wasn't avoiding anything."
"Sure," Marco muttered. "And I'm the CEO of a billion-dollar company."
Renz glanced at him.
Marco froze. "Okay… that was poorly timed."
Courtney rolled her eyes. "Ignore him."
"I'm trying," Marco said, eyeing Renz cautiously. "It's just hard when he looks like he can fire me."
"I probably could," Renz said calmly.
Lia burst out laughing. "Oh, I love this dynamic."
Courtney groaned. "Can you two not?"
Lia leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she looked between them. "So… what are we calling this?"
"There's nothing to call," Courtney said quickly.
Renz didn't speak which, somehow, made it worse.
Lia's smile widened. "That's suspicious."
"It's not."
"It is."
"It's not."
"Courtney."
"What?"
"You're arguing too much. That means you care."
Courtney opened her mouth to deny it then stopped because for once, the words didn't come easily.
Renz noticed. Of course he did. He noticed everything.
"You're overanalyzing," Courtney said finally, though her voice wasn't as firm as before.
"Am I?" Lia challenged.
Before Courtney could respond, Renz set his cup down. "I should go," he said.
Courtney blinked. "You just got here."
"I have work."
"You always have work."
"And yet, I still came."
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Courtney held his gaze. "Yeah," she said softly. "You did."
A pause then Renz reached into his pocket and placed something on the counter. A card.
Courtney frowned. "What's this?"
"My number." Her heart skipped.
"In case," he added, "you ever need anything."
Courtney stared at it. "You're giving me your number?" she asked.
"Yes."
"That's… very un-CEO of you."
"I don't follow expectations."
She let out a quiet laugh. "Clearly."
Renz stepped back, his expression calm—but his eyes lingered longer than usual then he turned and left again but this time, he didn't feel distant. Not at all.
The moment the door closed, Lia slammed her hands on the table. "OH. MY. GOD."
Courtney flinched. "What?!"
"He gave you his number!"
"It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal? That man looks like he schedules his emotions and he just handed you direct access!"
Marco nodded. "I hate to agree, but yeah. That was intense."
Courtney looked down at the card in her hand. Simple. Clean. Just his name and number. No extra details. Very him. "It doesn't mean anything," she said quietly but her grip tightened around it because deep down she knew it did and that was the problem.
Because habits? They were easy to start but dangerously hard to break.
- Writer
