An hour later Nina sat outside Starbucks with Jake, sipping her favorite, the white chocolate mocha. Jake finished his espresso not even a minute after ordering it, and he bought another immediately after.

“This is the only thing that relaxes me. I’m having trouble sleeping,” he told her sheepishly as Nina just stared at him, wide-eyed, watching as he downed his second cup.

“And no wonder. You can’t drink so much of that. It’s poison.”

Jake’s eyes were bloodshot, his hair mussed. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He looked, thought a bemused Nina, more handsome than ever.

Confused thoughts swirled around in her head. Should I be here with him? Is this even right? These thoughts were countered by others: Why can’t I enjoy being with him? There’s nothing wrong with that. He’s just a friend.

But the butterflies Nina felt in her stomach as she sat listening to Jake were not the friendly kind. There were the I want to get to know you better kind. The I don’t want to like you but I do kind.