Gemotions

The cafe buzzed with the Saturday morning rush, but Amelia barely noticed. She traced patterns on the condensation of her iced latte, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. Across the small, wrought-iron table, a woman with fiery red hair and a scowl that could curdle milk gestured emphatically as she spoke on her phone. Amelia, however, was far more interested in the man who’d just arrived at their hastily-arranged meeting spot. He wore a rumpled linen shirt, sported a charmingly crooked nose, and flashed a smile that could melt glaciers. He was late, but Amelia decided she would forgive it.

"So, tell me everything," she said, leaning forward, her eyes sparkling. “About the latest adventures! Spill!”

He chuckled, the sound a warm rumble. "Well, first, I had to drop off some…gifts." He avoided her gaze, and she noticed a faint blush creeping up his neck.

Amelia's fingers tapped a rapid rhythm against the table, a sudden excitement bubbling inside her. "Gifts, you say? To whom?"

The red-haired woman at the next table slammed her phone down and glared in their direction. Amelia just giggled.