A Moment

The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound barely registering through the steady hum of the dinner rush. Sam was balancing two plates in one hand and scribbling an order with the other when she caught sight of him.
Liam.
Her breath hitched—just slightly—hardly enough for anyone to notice. But she noticed. The sharp cut of his jawline, the tousled hair that looked like he’d run his fingers through it a dozen times before walking in, and the easy, boyish grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth when their eyes met across the room.
He slipped into a booth like he’d done it a thousand times before, though she was sure this was only his second time here. He waited patiently, eyes tracking her subtle movements as she floated between tables.
When she finally reached him, pen in hand, heart threatening to sprint, she tried to play it cool. “You again?”
Liam leaned forward, his voice low and teasing. “I told myself I wouldn’t come. That I’d give it time. Space. Be patient.” He grinned. “But clearly, I’m not very good at that.”
Sam rolled her eyes, fighting the flutter in her chest. “What can I get you?”
“You already know what I want.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“You,” he said plainly.
Sam felt her heart stutter, but she quickly masked it with a smirk. “How about a burger instead?”
Liam chuckled. “Fine. But only if you sit with me when you’re done pretending I’m just another customer.”
She tried to brush it off, taking his order like she hadn’t heard the way he made her stomach twist with one sentence. But every time she passed his booth, she felt the weight of his eyes—watching her, admiring her, waiting.
When she dropped off his food, he caught her hand for the briefest second. “I’ll wait for you,” he said quietly. “I mean it.”
“You shouldn’t,” she whispered, glancing around to make sure no one noticed. “People talk.”
“Let them,” he replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”
True to his word, he lingered long after the other patrons had cleared out. He nursed a coffee through the last hour of her shift, tapping his fingers along the rim of the cup, watching her with a softness that disarmed her every time she caught it.
When the last table had been wiped and the last chair tucked in, Sam slipped into the back to grab her things. She texted James quickly—I’ll be a bit late, don’t wait up—before stepping out into the warm night air where Liam was already leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, waiting like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Nice ride,” she said, nodding toward the car.
“Nice girl,” he replied, opening the passenger door for her.
She slid in, laughing softly, shaking her head at his shameless charm.
He rounded the front and joined her, the door clicking shut behind him. For a second, the only sound was the quiet hum of the engine and the faint buzz of streetlights outside. Then he leaned over—not too close, not yet—and reached for her seatbelt.
“Let me,” he murmured.
She held her breath as his hand brushed against her waist and he pulled the belt across her. His fingers were gentle, not deliberate. His face hovered near hers, eyes searching, lips just inches from her own. Her heart thudded in her chest like a drum. She could smell the faint trace of his cologne, clean and woodsy.
“Sam…” he said, her name barely a whisper between them.
“She met his gaze, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. She thought she might let him.
“But instead, he clicked the seatbelt into place and leaned back, his eyes lingering on her lips before pulling away.
The moment hung there—unfinished, charged, electric.
She exhaled slowly, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks... for being a gentleman.”
Liam looked over at her, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”
Sam laughed, the tension between them humming like static. As the car pulled away from the diner, she glanced over at him—this stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore—and thought maybe, just maybe, she was exactly where she was supposed to be.
Now, seated in the warm glow of a cozy bistro tucked between a bakery and a record store, Sam glanced around and let out a soft breath of relief. It wasn’t too fancy—no glittering chandeliers or velvet tablecloths, just wooden beams, exposed brick, soft lighting, and the low hum of conversation. Still... definitely a step up from where she’d imagined they’d end up.
She tugged slightly at the hem of her T-shirt, eyeing the couples around them who looked like they’d dressed for the occasion.
“I can’t believe you didn’t warn me,” she said, as she looked around. “You could’ve texted. I look like I came straight from work.”
Liam smirked, not even looking at the menu. “You did come straight from work.”
“Exactly my point.”
“You look great, Sam.” His voice dropped just enough to make her look up. “Honestly. You could’ve walked in wearing a trash bag and still made this whole place look better.”
She scoffed, but her cheeks burned. “You’re terrible at taking compliments modestly, you know that?”
“I’m fantastic at giving them, though.”
Sam laughed quietly, unable to hide the way her lips curled. There was something about the way he looked at her—like she wasn’t just another face in a crowd. Like he was actually seeing her. Not just the girl in the T-shirt and jeans. Her.
“You’ve got lines,” she said, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Only for you.”
And just like that, she was gone again—floating, despite her tired feet and the lingering scent of coffee on her clothes. Maybe this wasn’t the restaurant she would’ve picked for their first date. Maybe she wasn’t dressed right. But none of it mattered now.
Not when he was looking at her like this.