By Chance

Chapter 3: The Café

"Pecans aren't really my thing," he tells me.

Currently, it's 12: 46 in the afternoon and Logan has joined me for his lunch break. I made sure to sit on the steps this Monday morning, admiring the crowd before me.

"Why not?" I chuckle, picking at my soup. Tomato and basil wasn't really my thing, but like Saturday afternoon, I let Logan try to convince me of things I didn't like otherwise. So, that's how I ended up sitting outside on the terrace with the most handsome man I've ever seen sitting across from me eating a creamy pasta dish. "How can you hate pecans?"

His nose scrunches up in disgust, his eyebrows dipping ever so slightly. From that simple movement, a small, missable scar appears, jutting through one of his dark eyebrows.

"What's that?" I spit out, leaning forward to get a better look at the white line.

His eyes meet my own and I can't help but stare into them, falling deeper and deeper into his soul. A corner of his lips tug up, revealing his pearly white teeth and a playful smirk.

"Curious, aren't you?" He jokes, pulling his white dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows. I swear, every time that man flexes, even unintentionally, he has my heart racing. "Boating accident, two summers ago."

"Should I even ask with that intro?" I spoon the contents of the bowl before me into my mouth. My lips subconsciously want to turn into a frown but I force a straight face.

He sighs to himself. After shoveling some pieces of penne and meat into his mouth, I watch as he contemplates whether to explain or not. His eyes end on me as he swallows and I pop out an overly cheesy grin, my shoulders shrugged up by my head.

"My older sister, Clara, told me to watch for the sail and I misheard her, causing to be smacked into and then knocked out. I ended up with a mild concussion and this scar." He wiggles his eyebrows, showing off the small length of skin.

"It seems that you don't listen to people often." I tease as I finish up the red soup. A few minutes later, the city hall's clock tower strikes one in the afternoon.

I silently groan in annoyance when the noise reverberates to my ears and throughout the quaint shop's open doors. Logan stuffs some food in his mouth while reaching for his wallet. He's paid for everything we've done together so far, making this transaction quite awkward for me.

"What if I got it this time?" I ponder aloud.

"What?" He asks in an astonished tone.

"Yeah, I'm going to pay for it this time. It's on me." I grin as I take out my wallet tossing down a twenty and some change. I made sure to bring actual money this time instead of looking like a fool.

"You don't have to do that, Caleb." He tells me.

He sighs as he puts his wallet away in his pocket. Standing up, he and I collect our things and make our way off of the terrace. A light breeze carries us towards the steps once more where we say our farewells.

"I'll see you later when I get out?" Logan questions, rolling his sleeves back down to their normal position. His deep caramel eyes glisten in the afternoon sunlight.

"No, you won't." Running my fingers through my hair, I go to adjust my messenger bag's strap before all of my art supplies fall to the ground.

"Why not?" He frowns slightly, his lips forming a pout.

"I have to go drop off a few submissions for the studio before the showing next week." I explain, motioning to my sketch pad. Even though most of my submissions are paintings and sculptures, I draw out my ideas on the pad.