Chapter Text
The scent of freshly ground coffee beans filled the air as Y/N adjusted her apron and stifled a yawn. The Sydney summer morning was already warm, the kind that promised an unrelenting heat by midday. The early shift at the café was her favorite—quiet, save for the hum of the espresso machine and the occasional rustling of newspapers from the regulars. It was predictable, comfortable, and most importantly, it kept her mind busy.
She needed that lately.
At thirty-two, she hadn’t expected to be starting over. The divorce papers were barely tucked away in a drawer at home, but she wasn’t the type to wallow. She threw herself into work, into routines. Besides, coffee never let her down.
The door chimed, and she glanced up automatically, offering her usual customer-service smile. Then she saw him.
A man stepped inside, tall and broad-shouldered, his black T-shirt fitting just right, his dark hair slightly tousled as though he’d just rolled out of bed—but in a way that looked effortlessly attractive rather than unkempt. His face was sharp yet warm, his eyes deep brown, curious as they flickered around the café.
Y/N felt her brain stall.
He was beautiful. Not in the too-polished, intimidating way, but in the way that made her stomach flip unexpectedly. And when his gaze met hers, something in her chest stuttered.
She swallowed, quickly glancing at the register, willing herself to focus. You take orders all the time. He’s just a customer. A very, very attractive customer.
“Morning,” he said, voice smooth, a little husky—like he wasn’t quite awake yet.
“G-Good morning.” She winced internally. Off to a great start.
He smiled slightly, stepping up to the counter. “Can I get a flat white?”
“Flat white,” she repeated, nodding a little too eagerly as she punched it into the register. But instead of stopping there, she kept going. “That’s a—a classic choice, you know, very Australian. Not that I think you don’t know that. You probably do. Um. Obviously.”
Silence.
Oh God.
He blinked at her, then let out a small laugh, and if she wasn’t already overheating from embarrassment, she might’ve noticed how it was a really, really nice laugh.
“Yeah,” he said, lips twitching in amusement. “I’ve had a few before.”
She cleared her throat, focusing on the screen in front of her. “Right. Of course. Uh, what size?”
“Regular’s good.”
“Regular. Right. Great.” She tapped the screen with excessive enthusiasm before blurting out, “Would you like a name for that?”
His brows lifted slightly. “Chan.”
Y/N nodded like it was the most important revelation of her life. “Okay, Chan.” She grabbed a cup and a marker, except—her hand decided to betray her, fumbling both. The marker tumbled to the floor with an audible clack.
She froze. So did he.
Then, before she could react, he leaned down and picked it up, handing it back with a smile that was entirely too charming.
“Here,” he said easily.
Her fingers brushed his as she took it, and she nearly yelped. “Thanks,” she managed, hastily scrawling his name on the cup—except in her flustered state, she accidentally wrote Chan twice.
She stared at it.
He did too. Then, grinning, he pointed. “Double the caffeine?”
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut for half a second. “I swear I know how to do my job.”
Chan just chuckled, sliding a few bills across the counter. “I don’t doubt it.”
As he walked toward the waiting area, she exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her burning face.
Summer in Sydney was hot.
But nothing had prepared her for that.
Y/N busied herself at the espresso machine, determined to shake off her mortification. It’s fine. He’s just a customer. A really, really attractive customer who just witnessed me short-circuit over a flat white.
She focused on the motions—grinding the beans, tamping them down, locking the portafilter in place. The routine grounded her. But when she turned to steam the milk, her eyes flickered toward Chan, almost involuntarily.
He was standing near the pickup counter, one hand casually resting on the wood, the other scrolling through his phone. He looked effortlessly cool, like someone who belonged in a sun-drenched music video, not her tiny café on a Monday morning. The slight smirk still lingered on his lips.
She forced herself to look away before she tripped over something else—like her own dignity.
The milk steamed perfectly, swirling into a silky microfoam. At least she could still do that. She poured the shot, then the milk, creating a neat little rosette on top. See? Not a complete disaster.
“Flat white for… Chan,” she called out, carefully avoiding the urge to say his name twice like she’d written it.
He pushed off the counter and stepped forward, reaching for the cup. “Thanks,” he said, then glanced at the lid, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Still going with ‘Chan Chan,’ huh?”
Y/N wanted to melt into the floor. Great. Of course, he saw that.
She groaned. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
He chuckled, lifting the cup as if inspecting it. “It’s kind of catchy. Maybe I should start introducing myself like this.”
She rolled her eyes, finally able to laugh a little. “Please don’t. I already feel like an idiot.”
“You shouldn’t.” His voice was light but sincere. “Honestly, this is the most fun I’ve had ordering coffee in a while.”
Y/N felt warmth creep up her neck—not just from embarrassment this time. She opened her mouth to reply, but just then, the bell over the door jingled, and another customer walked in, forcing her back into work mode.
Chan took a slow sip of his coffee, nodding in approval. “This is really good.”
A strange sort of pride swelled in her chest. “Well, I do know how to make coffee. Even if I can’t seem to take an order properly.”
He grinned. “I might have to come back just to see what happens next time.”
And with that, he gave her a playful salute and walked out, leaving Y/N staring after him, heart pounding a little too hard for comfort.
As soon as the door swung shut, her coworker, Olivia, leaned against the counter with a knowing smirk. “Well, that was adorable.”
Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “I am never going to recover from this.”
Olivia shrugged. “Hey, at least he seemed entertained.”
Y/N exhaled, shaking her head as she prepared for the next customer. Maybe Chan was just being nice. Maybe he’d forget about her embarrassing display by the time he finished his coffee.
But deep down, she had a feeling this wasn’t the last time she’d see him.
And that was equally exciting—and terrifying
The rest of Y/N’s shift passed in a blur of orders, clinking cups, and the rhythmic hum of the espresso machine. But no matter how much she tried to shake it off, she kept replaying the moment over and over—Chan’s easy smile, his teasing remark, the way he said he might come back.
She told herself it was nothing. Just a passing moment, a harmless flirtation.
And yet, when her shift ended, she caught herself glancing at the door one last time before leaving.
—
The next morning, the sun was already blazing by the time Y/N stepped into Harbor Brew Café. Summer in Sydney was relentless, the kind that made everything feel slower, lazier. She tied her apron, bracing herself for another early morning shift.
And then—like some cruel joke played by the universe—the bell above the door jingled.
She turned.
There he was.
Chan.
Looking just as effortlessly handsome as the day before, dressed in a loose-fitting black tee and jeans, his hair slightly damp, as if he’d just come from an early workout.
Her stomach flipped.
He noticed her immediately, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile.
Y/N barely managed to suppress a groan. Not again.
Determined to play it cool, she stepped up to the register. “Morning,” she greeted, her voice miraculously steady.
“Morning, Y/N,” he replied.
Her stomach did another unnecessary somersault. He remembered my name.
She cleared her throat. “Flat white again?”
“Yeah,” he said, resting his forearm on the counter. “Though, I’ll admit, I was kinda hoping for another memorable ordering experience.”
She scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m fully functional today.”
He chuckled, and something about the sound made her heart race in a way she didn’t particularly like—mostly because she had no control over it.
As she punched in the order, she hesitated before asking, “You… come here often?”
Chan tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. “Are you trying to use a pickup line on me?”
Her eyes widened. “What? No! I just meant—” She exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temples. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
He grinned, clearly enjoying this far too much. “For the record, I liked it.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, fighting a smile as she moved to make his coffee.
As she worked, Olivia nudged her from the side. “You do realize he’s flirting with you, right?”
Y/N shot her a warning look. “Shut up.”
By the time she finished the coffee and placed it on the counter, she was proud of herself for getting through the interaction without any major disasters.
“Flat white for Chan,” she called, and for once, it sounded normal.
He stepped up to grab it, glancing at the cup. “No extra ‘Chan’ this time?”
She smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”
He laughed, taking a sip. “Perfect again.” Then, before leaving, he met her eyes, his expression softer this time. “See you around, Y/N.”
Her breath hitched.
And as he walked out the door, she realized something dangerous.
She wanted to see him again.
And that was going to be a problem.