He was sitting on the back steps of his building, elbows on his knees, phone in hand, watching the screen like it owed him something. The first message had taken ten whole minutes to write and five more to convince himself to send.
     He hadn’t expected her to reply so fast.
     But then his screen lit up again.

Hayley:
     Hey. Yeah… I’m okay. Thanks for checking.

He exhaled. A small part of him relaxed — not much, but enough to unclench his jaw.
     Then another bubble popped up.

Hayley:
     I don’t remember much after leaving the bar. But I hope I didn’t say or do anything too embarrassing.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
     Jaxon shook his head to himself, then typed slowly with his thumbs.

Jaxon: 
     Nothing embarrassing. You mostly just argued with gravity and lost.

He waited, watching the "Delivered" tag sit there like a dare. Then added:

Jaxon:
     You were tired. That’s all. I made sure you got home okay. Shoes off. Blanket on. No witnesses.

Then paused.
     He debated saying more. Debated backing off.
     But instead, he wrote:

Jaxon:
     And for the record… you didn’t say anything wrong. You just needed to breathe. Everyone has nights like that.

He didn’t hit send right away. His thumb hovered.
     Then — tap.
     Sent.
     Jaxon leaned back against the wall, phone in his lap, eyes staring up at the gray-blue sky.
     He didn’t know what this was, or where it was going. But he knew one thing for sure.
     He wasn’t ready to back away from her.
     Not yet.

Her thumb hovered over her screen, heart tapping a bit too loud in her chest as the new messages came in.

Jaxon:
     Nothing embarrassing. You mostly just argued with gravity and lost.

She let out a quiet, involuntary laugh, then bit her lip — smiling despite herself.
     Then came the second message.

Jaxon: 
     You were tired. That’s all. I made sure you got home okay. Shoes off. Blanket on. No witnesses.

Her breath caught. Something warm and uncomfortable crawled up her chest. No sarcasm. No teasing. Just… steady. Gentle.
     She swallowed and kept reading.

Jaxon:
     And for the record… you didn’t say anything wrong. You just needed to breathe. Everyone has nights like that.

Hayley stared at the words for a long time.
     Her eyes stung a little — not from crying, just… exhaustion. Emotion. The weight of it all sitting too close to the surface.
     She hated that she’d let herself unravel like that.
     And yet, he hadn’t used it against her. Hadn’t mocked or pitied her. He’d just made sure she was okay. And then left.
     Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She didn’t know what to say that didn’t feel small or stupid. So she typed the truth.

Hayley:
     Thank you. For taking care of me. And for not making it a thing.

She hesitated, then added:

Hayley:
     I needed someone that night. I didn’t know it until I did.

She stared at her phone after sending it, stomach flipping once, then twice.
     Somewhere deep down, she realized she wasn’t just thanking him for last night.
     She was thanking him for not running.

He stared at the screen for longer than he probably should’ve.

Hayley:
     Thank you. For taking care of me. And for not making it a thing. I needed someone that night. I didn’t know it until I did.

His thumb rested against the side of his phone. The words settled somewhere deep — a weightless kind of heavy. She didn’t open up easily. She was guarded, wrapped in layers of dry wit and sharp comebacks. But this?
     This was real.
     He read the message again, lips tugging into something soft, something involuntary.
     A few seconds passed. He typed, then erased. Typed again.
     Then finally:

Jaxon:
     Anytime. Really.

He stared at it. It didn’t feel like enough. And maybe it wasn’t.
     So he followed it up with:

Jaxon:
     Want to grab a coffee or something? No pressure. Just… felt like we left a few things unsaid.

Sent.
     Immediately, the nerves kicked in — the kind he didn’t usually get. Not over anyone.
     But Hayley wasn’t just anyone.

She was curled up on the couch, blanket draped over her legs, a lukewarm mug of tea in her hands that she hadn’t taken a sip from in over ten minutes. Her mind had wandered too far, too fast, replaying last night in fragments she couldn’t quite stitch together.
     The message she’d sent Jaxon was still sitting in her outbox — she hadn’t dared to look again. It was probably too much. Too vulnerable. Too… honest.
     Her phone buzzed.
     Her heart leapt before her brain could tell her to calm down.
     She reached for it with fingers that didn’t feel entirely steady.

Jaxon:
     Anytime. Really.

Her throat tightened — something in those two words hit deeper than she expected.
     And then the second one came.

Jaxon:
     Want to grab a coffee or something? No pressure. Just… felt like we left a few things unsaid.

Hayley stared at the screen. Her stomach twisted.
     A coffee.
     That should be simple, right?
     Except nothing about this felt simple. She had no idea what she wanted to say. Or even what she felt. She just knew… the idea of seeing him again didn’t scare her the way it should’ve.
     Her fingers hovered. Then typed.

Hayley:
     Okay. When?

She hit send before she could overthink it.
     And then sat back, heartbeat louder than it should be for something as small as a text.

Hayley spotted him first.
     He was standing outside the café, hands tucked into the pockets of his black jacket, eyes scanning the sidewalk like he wasn’t sure he should be there. His hair was a little messy, like he’d run his hand through it too many times, and he looked… tense. Restless.
     She almost turned around.
     Almost.
     But he saw her.
     Their eyes met, and something like a silent breath passed between them.
     Hayley offered a small wave, tucking her hair behind her ear as she approached.
     "Hey," she said, voice a little too soft.
     "Hey," Jaxon replied, shifting his weight like he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands now.
     They stood in silence for a beat, both of them hesitating, and then — awkwardly, at the same time:
     "You look—"
     "I didn’t think—"
     They both stopped, and Jaxon huffed a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Wow. Off to a smooth start."
     Hayley gave a crooked smile, arms crossed over her chest. "Yeah, we’re basically professionals at this."
     "Coffee?" he offered quickly, gesturing toward the door like it might save them both.
     "Please."
     They went inside.
     The place was warm and quiet, and thankfully not too crowded. They ordered — her a cappuccino, him a black coffee — and picked a window seat tucked in the corner.
     Neither spoke while they waited for the drinks.
     Hayley glanced at him once, then again. "You seem… nervous."
     Jaxon lifted an eyebrow. "Me? No. Totally calm. Not at all worried I might’ve overstepped every boundary known to man last night."
     She blinked. "You didn’t."
     He looked at her then, really looked. "You sure?"
     Hayley nodded slowly, tracing the rim of her cup. "You did the right thing. I just… I don’t really like being the version of myself you saw."
     Jaxon’s voice softened. "We all have versions like that. Doesn’t make you less of who you are."
     Their drinks arrived, giving them a reason to break the eye contact for a moment.
     Hayley blew gently on the foam. "You’re not what I expected, you know."
     "Is that good or bad?"
     "I don’t know yet."
     Jaxon smirked. "Guess I’ll have to earn the answer."
     She shook her head, a quiet smile tugging at her lips despite everything.
     The nerves didn’t vanish. But for the first time all day, the air between them started to feel a little lighter.

Hayley sipped her cappuccino, eyes fixed on the tiny swirl of foam clinging to the edge. "So... do you do this often?"
     Jaxon tilted his head. "What? Intervene dramatically and carry women upstairs?"
     She shot him a look, trying not to smile. "I meant coffee."
     He chuckled. "Not really. Not like this."
     There was something about the way he said it — casual, but not empty. Like he meant it.
     Hayley leaned back in her seat, arms still crossed loosely. "You really didn’t have to follow me home, you know."
     "I know," Jaxon said. "But I wanted to."
     She looked at him then, curious. "Why?"
     He hesitated, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. "Because... I’ve seen people crash before. Hard. I’ve been one of them too. And I guess I didn’t want to just stand there if you were headed in that direction."
     Hayley’s gaze softened — not entirely ready to be vulnerable, but surprised by how close his words hit.
     "I wasn’t crashing," she said, then added, more quietly, "Not yet, anyway."
     Jaxon nodded slowly. "I could tell you had a lot going on. You always seem like you’re carrying something heavy."
     She swallowed. "It’s been a long year."
     "Wanna talk about it?"
     She gave a small laugh. "No. But that’s the nicest offer I’ve gotten in a while."
     He smiled — just a small one, but real. "Well. Offer stands."
     There was another beat of quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable now. It was thoughtful. Safe.
     Then Jaxon asked, "So... what do you do when you’re not knocking out punching bags in office gyms?"
     Hayley gave him a dry look. "Is that your way of saying I’m scary?"
     "A little," he teased. "You kicked higher than my head. That’s a red flag and a talent."
     Hayley laughed — actually laughed, and some of the tension in her shoulders released.
     "I design stuff," she said after a moment. "Websites, mostly. But I want to do more than that. I’ve got this idea I’m working on… something bigger."
     "Ambrose thing?" he asked.
     "Yeah. And… more than that, hopefully."
     "I think you’ll do it," Jaxon said easily. "You’ve got that... obsessed energy."
     She raised a brow. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
     He nodded. "The best kind."
     For a moment, their eyes lingered. The nervousness was still there, sure. But beneath it was something else — a hum of recognition. Like they were starting to see each other more clearly.
     Hayley broke the silence, her voice quieter now. "You’re not what I expected either."
     "No?"
     "No," she said. "You’re annoying... but you listen. That’s dangerous."
      He laughed under his breath, taking another sip. "Guess we’re both full of surprises."

Hayley leaned forward, resting her chin against her hand. “So what about you? When you're not hovering over passed-out coworkers and saving them from themselves?”
     Jaxon smirked. "I hover with style, thank you very much."
     She rolled her eyes. "Seriously. What do you do besides guard doors and sneak up on people in gyms?"
     He shrugged lightly. "I do security because I like knowing people are safe. It’s simple. Quiet. But I’ve done MMA since I was a kid."
     Hayley blinked. "Like, actual fighting?"
     "Cages, mats, gloves, bruises. The whole deal."
     "Damn." She narrowed her eyes. "That explains the cocky attitude."
     "That explains the confidence," he corrected smoothly. "The cocky part is just natural charm."
     She snorted into her coffee. “You keep saying things like that, I’m gonna need a second drink just to survive.”
     “Order it. I’ll sit here and keep working on breaking down that terrifying wall of yours.”
     Hayley smirked. “What wall?”
     "The one made entirely of sarcasm and eye-rolls."
     "Ah," she said, nodding. "That one’s structural. Don’t touch it."
     Jaxon leaned in just slightly, grin curling at the edge of his mouth. "Too late. I already cracked it last night when I carried you like a damn princess."
     Hayley gasped, mock-offended. "Excuse me. I did not get carried like a princess."
     "Bridal style," he said with a smug nod. "Arms under the knees and everything."
     "Oh my god—"
     "Should’ve taken a picture. Frame it. Office art."
     "Shut up," she muttered, cheeks flushed as she tried not to laugh.
     He leaned back, satisfied. "See? Told you. Cracks in the wall."
     She shook her head, still smiling despite herself. "You're actually enjoying this, aren’t you?"
     "Immensely."
     Their eyes met again — not so heavy now, but lit with something softer, something unspoken. The tension from the other night wasn’t gone, but it had shifted into something more alive. Curious. Dangerous in the way beginnings always are.
     Hayley raised her cup toward him in a mock-toast. "Well, congrats. You survived coffee with me."
     Jaxon clinked his cup gently against hers. "Barely. But I think I can handle a round two."
     Her eyes danced as she sipped. "We’ll see."
     And for a while, they just sat there — two guarded people in a quiet café, laughing like they weren’t both afraid of what might come next.