Maya stared at her laptop screen, the cursor blinking mockingly in the middle of her pitch deck's "Market Opportunity" slide. The words refused to come. She'd been at Brew & Byte for an hour, and her productivity was tanking—partly because of the looming deadline, partly because Ethan Harper was still sprawled across from her, sipping his black coffee and radiating a kind of effortless charm that made her want to throw her latte at him.
He wasn't even *doing* anything, just sketching on a tablet with a stylus, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every so often, he'd glance up, catch her eye, and flash a grin that felt like a dare. Maya forced her gaze back to her screen. *Focus, Chen. You're not here to flirt with the Bandwidth Bandit.*
But the Wi-Fi was acting up again, the little bars on her laptop flickering like a bad omen. She groaned under her breath and refreshed her browser. Nothing. Her pitch deck was synced to the cloud, and without a connection, she was stuck.
"Problem?" Ethan asked, not looking up from his tablet.
"Your ambiance is killing my upload speed again," Maya said, her tone clipped. She tapped her fingers on the table, debating whether to pack up and find another café. But the thought of losing her spot—and admitting defeat—made her stubborn side dig in.
Ethan set his stylus down and leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. The motion tugged his hoodie up, revealing a sliver of toned midriff that Maya absolutely did not notice. "I'm barely streaming," he said, mock-offended. "Maybe your app's just jealous of my superior bandwidth karma."
"Bandwidth karma?" Maya snorted, rolling her eyes. "Is that what you call hogging the signal?"
"Hey, I'm a digital nomad. I live for Wi-Fi. It's practically my religion." He leaned forward, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Want a pro tip? Restart your router. Works like a charm."
Maya blinked. "We're in a coffee shop. I don't have a router."
Ethan's grin widened. "Fair point. But I bet I can fix your connection. Hand over the laptop."
"No way," she said, pulling her laptop closer. "You're not touching my baby."
"Protective. I respect that." He held up his hands in surrender, then glanced at his own screen. "Okay, fine. I'll switch to offline mode for a bit. Give you the full bandwidth. Truce?"
Maya narrowed her eyes, suspicious of his sudden generosity. "Why are you being nice?"
"Not nice. Strategic." He winked. "If you crash and burn on your pitch, you'll probably blame me, and I don't need that kind of bad juju."
She couldn't help it—she laughed, the sound surprising her. "Fine. Truce. For now."
Ethan made a show of closing his music app, and sure enough, Maya's Wi-Fi bars stabilized. She muttered a grudging "thanks" and dove back into her slide, finally stringing together a sentence about ArtVibe's target demographic. But her concentration kept glitching, pulled by the soft scratch of Ethan's stylus and the way he hummed under his breath, like he was in his own little world.
After twenty minutes of semi-productive silence, Ethan spoke up again. "So, Maya Chen, app developer extraordinaire. What's the deal with ArtVibe? Why artists?"
She hesitated, her fingers pausing over the keyboard. Most people didn't ask about her app with genuine curiosity—usually, they just nodded politely and changed the subject. But Ethan was looking at her like he actually wanted to know, his hazel eyes steady and warm.
"My mom's a painter," she said finally, her voice softer than she meant it to be. "She's insanely talented, but she's never had the connections to get her work out there. Galleries, exhibits—they're all about who you know. I built ArtVibe to level the playing field. Give people like her a shot."
Ethan nodded slowly, like he was turning her words over in his mind. "That's cool. Really cool. You're, like, the Robin Hood of the art world."
Maya's cheeks warmed, and she ducked her head to hide it. "Hardly. I just… saw a problem I could fix. Or try to."
"Still noble," Ethan said, his tone light but sincere. "Me, I just make things pretty for a living. You're out here changing lives."
She rolled her eyes, but the compliment landed, settling somewhere in her chest. "Don't get sappy on me, Bandwidth Bandit. I've got work to do."
He chuckled and went back to his tablet, but the air between them felt different now—less like a battleground and more like… something else. Maya shook it off and forced herself to focus, but her mind kept drifting to the guy across the table, who was somehow both infuriating and intriguing.
By the time she packed up to leave, the café was quieter, the afternoon light slanting through the windows. Ethan was still there, sketching away, but he looked up as she slung her bag over her shoulder.
"See you tomorrow, Maya Chen?" he asked, his voice teasing but with a hint of something real.
She hesitated, then smirked. "Only if you stop stealing my Wi-Fi."
"No promises," he said, grinning.
As Maya stepped out into the chilly Seattle air, she realized she was smiling too. And that was a connection error she hadn't seen coming.