Chapter 3

Jordan’s POV

I wake up early, as usual. It’s a habit that has been instilled in me since I was a kid, when my father ran a restaurant and I had to help open up before school. I’ve never minded it. There’s something peaceful about the quiet mornings, the calm before the rush of the day.

I roll out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb Kaelen. The guy is a mystery to me and I still can’t shake the feeling that he’s trying to make my life difficult. But whatever. I can’t change that. I’ve got my own things to worry about.

I grab my clothes from the small dresser at the foot of my bed, making sure I don’t make too much noise as I change. The room is still dark, only the faintest light creeping in through the window blinds. I slip into my faded jeans and a plain shirt. It's no different from my everyday look but I am not complaining. I love my simple style.

I pull my sneakers on, tie them quickly and go over to the window, pushing the blinds apart just enough to check the weather. It’s cool outside, the kind of crisp morning that makes me feel energized. It’s going to be a long day at the cafeteria, but I’m used to it.

I move to the door, but the moment I touch the handle, I hear a faint sound behind me. I turn, my heart skipping a beat as I realize Kaelen is awake. There is something off about the way he’s sitting up in bed. His back is straight, posture perfect, and I can see the outline of his silhouette in the dim light. He’s wearing a black T-shirt that clings to his shoulders. Even though it’s barely visible, I can make out the sharp outline of his jaw, his eyes flicking toward me.

I hesitate, not sure what to say. It’s too early for a confrontation, especially with him. Maybe he’s just... in a bad mood from yesterday. Or maybe he’s just a guy who doesn't like waking up.

"You’re up early," I say, trying to break the silence, though I can already feel how forced my words sound.

He looks at me for a moment, then shrugs. He seems detached, like he is in his own world, his mind miles away.

"Couldn’t sleep," he mutters hoarsely. "I had some stuff on my mind."

I'm surprised he even responded. I want to ask what kind of stuff but something tells me it’s probably none of my business. I’m not here to get involved in whatever drama he has got going on. Besides, I’ve got my own problems.

"I’m headed to work," I tell him, not even sure why I do.

"Don't care."

Yeah. Thought so. I step into the hallway, closing the door quietly behind me and leave.

★★★

I started this job a week ago, taking shifts at the cafeteria to help cover my expenses. It's not glamorous, but it pays the bills.

The cafeteria isn’t busy yet—just a few early risers scattered around the tables. I head straight for the back, where the staff lockers are, and start pulling on my apron.

"Morning Jordan, You’re on coffee duty today," my manager, Karl, says with a grin as he tosses a pancake onto a plate.

“Yeah,” I reply, tying the strings of my apron behind my back. “Coffee duty. Got it.”

I move over to the coffee station and begin brewing the first pot of the day. The familiar smell fills the air within minutes. I start to get lost in the rhythm of the morning— pouring coffee, cleaning the counter, making sure the creamers are stocked, when I hear the bell above the cafeteria door ring.

I glance up without thinking and there he stands.

Kaelen.

He walks in like he owns the place— head held high, shoulders back. He strides up to the counter, his eyes scanning the room as if he's doing a mental tally of who is here and who is not.

I freeze for a second, my breath catching in my throat. What’s he doing here? I’ve been trying to get used to the idea of sharing a room with him, but this... this feels different. His presence in this small cafeteria feels almost out of place. Like he’s too good for it.

I force myself to focus, turning the coffee pot with practiced ease even though my hands feel a little shaky. I glance over at him again and see his eyes now fixed on the menu board behind me. And then he looks up and our eyes meet.

For a brief moment, the world seems to slow down. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something I can’t place. But then it’s gone just as fast as it came. He’s back to that cold, untouchable version of himself.

"Black coffee," he says. "And a bagel. No cream cheese."

I try not to stare at him as I prepare his order, though I’m aware of every movement he makes. He leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest as if he is not sure what to do with himself in a place like this.

I place his coffee and bagel on the counter, trying to keep my voice steady. "Here you go. Enjoy."

Kaelen picks up the coffee glancing at me once more, his eyes scanning my face. I can’t read his expression. It’s like he is trying to decide if he wants to say something or just walk away. Finally, he does the latter and heads toward the tables without a word.

I watch him go, a knot forming in my stomach. There's something about his gaze— a quiet storm that stirs my insides. I love storms. I love all the chaos they bring but I'm not quite sure about this particular one. This one is a dark mystery, a little out of reach.