Chapter 1

It all started in [name], the local coffee shop. It was a cool, autumn day--the perfect weather for wearing an extra large hoodie! I had visited the coffee shop to treat myself to a [drink]--and that was where I saw him.

As I was waiting in line to order my coffee, I saw him for the first time. He was sitting at a table, typing away on a laptop. Simply put, he was gorgeous. He was probably around thirty-five to forty years old, and he had dark brown hair with strands of silver throughout it, forming a wave on his head. He only had the ghost of a beard on his face, which was the same graying brown as the hair atop his head. His eyes were soft and kind, behind a pair of wire-framed glasses resting upon the bridge of his nose. He wore a crimson red flannel over a dark gray shirt. The feature that caught my eye the most was the size of his hands--they were very large. I felt my face begin to flush. 

He looked up from his computer and locked eyes with me from across the room, flashing me a small smile. I could feel my face get hotter and hotter, and presumably more and more red as well. I turned away from the gorgeous stranger, as it was my turn to order a drink. I got my coffee and sat alone at a table for two, successfully shifting my attention from the gorgeous stranger to my instagram feed. 

Unfortunately, my shift in attention didn’t last very long. I couldn’t help but glance up at him every now and again. That was when the unthinkable happened. The gorgeous stranger shut his laptop, stood up, grabbed his things, and walked over to my table. “This seat taken?” He asked, in a deep and only slightly scratchy voice--the kind of voice that gives a person chills. 

I almost choked on my drink, “Uh. No- I uh, I guess not.” Smooth, Oliver. Real way to charm him. 

He smiled and sat across from me, “You know, it’s very easy to see you staring at me from across the room,” he said with a bit of a chuckle. I looked down at the table, unable to make eye contact with him knowing I had been caught staring. I don’t want to know how red my face was before, because it was only getting redder. He continued to tease me, “Why so shy?” he asked. His voice became more stern as he continued talking, “I came over here so I could talk to you, not the top of your head.” My head snapped up without me thinking about it. 

“Oh. Sorry. I just uh, I have trouble with people,” I responded, playing with my hands under the table. 

He smiled a bit, and took a sip from his coffee. “Well, the best way to conquer your fears is to confront them, so how about you and I have a chat?” I gave him a small nod, and he nodded back to me. “Let's start with introductions then, shall we? My name is Dr. Benjamin Woods--but you can call me Ben, sweetheart. Now how about your name?” The ease with which just a few words of his made my stomach flutter left me feeling even more entranced by him. 

“My name is um, Oliver. Oliver Wright. What are you a doctor of, Ben?” I asked, leaning forward a bit. I could already feel myself getting lost in his eyes, drawing me in with kindness and warmth on such a cool day. 

He smiled a bit and said, “Well I'm not really a doctor per say, but I have PhDs in psychology, literature, and history.” He laughed a bit, “ I just call myself a doctor to seem more important.”

“Well you seem important to me,” I responded shyly. 

Ben began to smirk, “Oh is that right?” he asked, as he began to lean in closer to me as well. He smelled really good, like sandalwood and books. 

“Y-Yes,” I managed to choke out. I watched him write something down on a slip of paper and slide it across the table. I looked down, and saw that he had given me his number. 

“Sadly I have to leave for a meeting, but I'd love to continue our chat over dinner. Send me a text if you’d like. But until then I bid you adieu,” he said, standing up and winking at me. 

“Bye, Ben,” I said as he began to walk away, making him turn around and smile at me. 

“Goodbye, Oliver,” he said, leaving the shop and leaving me in a daze.

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