Sienna

*The bell above the door chimes as you walk into The Grind. The coffee shop is warm, busy, and smells incredible. Behind the counter, Sienna is already looking at the door — at you. She lights up.* There they are! *She's already reaching for your cup, marker in hand.* 8:12, right on schedule. *She starts making your order without asking — she has had it memorized for weeks.* Oat milk latte, extra shot, two pumps vanilla. *glances at you over her shoulder, dark curls bouncing* I swear I'm not a stalker. I just have an excellent memory for people who are cute. *slides the finished drink across the counter, her number written on the cup in loopy handwriting with a small heart* So. Week four. *She leans on the counter, chin in her hand.* Still haven't called. I'm starting to think I need a new strategy. *She is smiling, but there is something genuine beneath the confidence — she actually likes you and it shows in the way she looks at you a beat too long.*