Page 13 of Heartstruck

“We’re already”—I glance around—“dating. How would I practice on you?”

Jared holds a hand up. “Oh, but Miss Allison, you underestimate me.”

I squint at him even though I’m kind of interested in this nonsense. “Alright, I’ll bite. What exactly are you getting at?”

He sits back, an unruly glint in his eyes.

“Think of it as a crash course. We take the pressure off by using me as your practice dummy. You’ll get comfortable, we’ll work on whatever makes you nervous, and before you know it, you’ll be handling guys like Ethan without batting an eye once we’re broken up. ”

I nod and admit defeat with a light sigh. “Okay, let’s do it.” I straighten my back as though confidence would surge from it.

“You’re going to walk out, walk back in, and approach me like we’re at a club and you want my number.”

I’m quiet for a few seconds, and then I start laughing. “Funny, really funny.” My laughter soon fades away once I realize the serious look on his face. Oh, he meant it. “Jared, no.”

“Yes,” he says, not budging an inch. “It’s just us, and this is your safe space to mess up, laugh, and learn.”

I shake my head, feeling a bit of panic rising. “I’m not doing that. People are going to think I’m crazy.”

“No one’s paying attention,” he reassures, glancing around the café. “And even if they were, who cares? This is for you.”

I bite my lip at the idea of walking out and coming back in like this—it feels like some weird role-playing scenario. “I don’t know.”

He leans closer. “Alli, you can do this. It’s just a simple walk and talk. If it helps, think of it as a game. No stakes, no judgment, just us.” He explains, his tone calm and collected—the complete opposite of how I feel.

I study him, still skeptical about it all, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at me, like he really believes this could work and help me in the long run. I take a deep breath, feeling my heart race.

“Fine. But if I trip over my own feet, I’m blaming you.” The playful spark reappears in his eyes.

“Deal. Now go, Alli girl.”

I push back my chair and stand up, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

As I head toward the door, I can feel his gaze on my back, a silent pat on the back of both support and challenge in the way he watches me.

I pause at the entrance, take another deep breath, and then turn around, walking back toward our table with as much confidence as I can muster.

It’s like a scene out of the movies where I’m walking in slow-mo and Jared is sitting looking hot and shining.

His eyes find mine, and though I don’t want to admit it, it feels like the world narrows down to just the two of us.

I make it back to the table, trying not to break the confident stride, and slide back into my seat, my heart pounding.

“Hey, come here often?”

Out of all the things I could have said, I said the most basic shit ever.

Whatever. Calm, cool, collected, keep going.

Jared’s lips twitch, barely holding back a smile. “Study Brew is my favorite coffee shop on campus, and their matcha lattes don’t taste like grass.”

“I don’t take you as a drink connoisseur.”

“Well, I used to work at a boba shop all throughout high school.”

I let out a small laugh. I cannot believe we’re doing this, but I’m feeling like my old self again. Getting back into character, I arch a brow, “Did you?”

He nods, leaning back in his chair with a casual grin. “I craft the best matcha lattes. I even paid over a hundred bucks for the best bowls and whisk.”

I stare at him, half-impressed and half-amused. “You’re serious? You own the fancy whisk and everything?”

“I don’t mess around with my matcha process,” he replies, the pride evident in his voice. “You can’t just throw matcha powder in hot water and call it a day. There’s art to it.”

I shake my head, a quiet laugh escaping me. “I’ll have to try it someday.”

This feels different, almost natural and too easy.

The air between us isn’t charged with anything heavy, just the comfortable exchange of words.

For once, I’m not battling the hot rush of anxiety coursing through me at the thought of talking to a guy.

Even though this is just a role-play thing, there’s a subtle shift in the way we’re interacting that makes it feel… nice.

I offer my hand across the table with a smile. “I’m Alli.”

“Jared.” He grins, his grip firm as he shakes my hand. “Alli, huh?”

“Short for Allison.” I confirm with a lift of my shoulders.

“Cute name for a cute girl.”

I feel my cheeks flare, and my heart does a little flip, so I decide to end the scene before I start acting too obvious. I roll my eyes, pretending to shake off the blush creeping up.

“Do you use that line on all the girls?”

He chuckles, his eyes never leaving mine. “Only the ones who need a little extra confidence boost. You did great.”

“I don’t feel as awkward as I thought I would.”

“Good,” Jared says, his tone easing as he watches me. “That’s the whole point.”

There’s a pause, and I realize his hand is still resting on mine. I pull away, trying to mask the flutter in my chest with a teasing smile. “You know, you’re not a bad teacher.”

Jared grins, leaning back in his chair. “I know I’m not. Your blushing tells me we did something right today. And hey, there’s nothing wrong with blushing—I saw you trying to hide it. It’s a normal human reaction.”

I narrow my eyes mockingly. “I didn’t realize you were a matcha expert, a therapist, and a dating coach all in one person.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he says with a wink. “You’re off the hook for today. We can save the next lesson for another time.”

“Another time, huh?”

He stands up, grabbing his drink. “Yeah, I don’t want to overwhelm you all at once. Gotta keep you coming back for more.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s a smile urging my lips. “Sure, whatever you say.”

As he walks away, I can’t help but watch him go, my thoughts spinning.

It was just a practice run, but for some reason, it felt like more.

And when he turns back, flashing me that last grin?

My chest tightens. The way his shirt fits perfectly over his shoulders, the way his hair falls messily but still looks like he just walked off a damn magazine cover…

He slings his bag over his shoulder like it’s no big deal, but I can’t look away.

It’s stupid, but my pulse kicks up a notch.

Yeah, I’m in trouble.