Jade
The next day, he came back at the cafe, like nothing had happened. I nearly dropped the tray of clean mugs.
He walked right up to the counter and nodded at me like we were old friends. “Morning.”
I blinked. “Seriously?”
He tilted his head. “What?”
I leaned in a little. “You almost mauled a man in here yesterday. You’re just… back? Like it’s a Tuesday?”
“It is Tuesday,” he said, deadpan.
I stared at him.
He stared back.
And then, out of nowhere, that damn smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. I hated how annoyingly attractive it was. Like his face wasn’t supposed to be allowed to smile, but when it did, it messed with your brain.
I crossed my arms. “You have a habit of being cryptic and scary.”
“I’m not scary.”
“You growled at a man.”
He shrugged. “He deserved it.”
I rolled my eyes and turned to grab the coffee pot, but I could still feel his gaze on me. It wasn’t just looking—it was like he was watching, reading something only he could see. I handed him the coffee. “Black. No sugar. Just like your personality.”
His lip twitched. “Cute.”
“Don’t flatter me. I’m still deciding if I should ban you from the premises.”
He took a slow sip and leaned his elbows on the counter. “You’re funny when you’re annoyed.”
“And you’re irritating when you’re awake.”
“Yet here you are. Talking to me.”
I opened my mouth to fire back, but nothing came out. Because he was right. I was talking to him. And worse, I wanted to. Despite every red flag flapping in the wind around him, something about Zade pulled at me like gravity. And I hated it.
“What are you even doing here again?” I muttered. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“I like the coffee.”
“You don’t smile when you drink it.”
“I don’t smile when I lie, either.”
I snorted. “So you admit you’re lying.”
Zade shrugged and looked around like the café held secrets I couldn’t see. His tone dropped. “You should stay out of the woods.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I told you yesterday.”
“You said to be careful. You didn’t say anything about—”
“I’m saying it now.”
The air shifted. I could feel it—thicker, heavier, like a storm gathering in the corner of the room. I took a step back. “Why?”
He set his coffee down gently, but his gaze didn’t soften. “Because people go missing there.”
“That’s vague and creepy.”
“It’s also true.”
“I’m not planning a hiking trip anytime soon, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I said, trying to sound braver than I felt.
“I’m not worried,” he said. “I’m warning you.”
The way he said it made my spine stiffen. It wasn’t just words—it was real. Like he knew something. Like something bad had already happened.
“You always talk like that?” I asked. “All riddles and doom?”
Zade tilted his head. “Only with people who matter.”
I went completely still.
He didn’t blink.
“What do you mean by that?”
But instead of answering, he just gave me one of those quiet looks. Like he wasn’t going to explain himself. Like he knew exactly what he was doing to my brain—and was perfectly fine with it.
And then, casually, like we were just chatting about the weather, he said, “You’ve been thinking about me.”
I nearly choked on air. “What?”
“That’s why you’re mad,” he added. “You don’t like how much you’ve been thinking about me.”
“I think you’re delusional,” I snapped, but it came out too fast. Too defensive.
“Maybe,” he said, sipping his coffee. “But I’m not wrong.”
I hated him.
I hated how smug he was.
I hated how I was very much not denying it.
Because the truth was—I had been thinking about him. Ever since the gas station. Since the library. Since the moment he stood between me and that creep like I was someone worth protecting.
Zade was impossible to read. Hot and rude. Cold and warm. He came in like a storm, tore through everything, then stood there like he hadn’t just destroyed the weather.
I didn’t know what he was.
But I knew I was in trouble.
“I don’t get you,” I whispered, mostly to myself.
“You don’t have to,” he said. “Just don’t run.”
“Run from what?” Zade looked out the window. His jaw clenched. Something flickered in his eyes again–gold, sharp, gone in a second.
“From what’s coming.”