The last year passed in front of my eyes. Reminding me of every lingered glance, every brush of his hand on mine, every offer to help, even after long hours at the restaurant.

  Silas was a good guy. He was, and I had chosen to ignore it.

  I could see Lessie in my mind, pointing to a bright, neon sign that said, I FUCKING TOLD YOU!

  The air felt too heavy. His stare too intense. I wanted to hide. And I wanted to display all of me to him.

  “Olive, you look like you’re freaking out. I don’t have to help. I just . . . I don’t know. I don’t know how many more ways to ask.” He gulped, looking vulnerable. “Should I give up? You can tell me. I can take it. But I need to be told outright. Maybe you’ve been clear, and I’ve just been too stubborn to see. I don’t want to push you or make you feel uncomfortable. I’ll . . . actually, I’ll just go.”

  “No,” I said right away, stopping him, moving around the counter to stand in front of him. “No. I’m sorry.” I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and attempted to find whatever nerves I could muster. I didn’t have much. “Stay. Let’s,” I stopped to look around. Lessie had gotten most of the inventory done before she left, and I cleaned a bit during our lull. “Let’s go somewhere else. This place is mostly ready for opening tomorrow. I’ll just come in a few minutes early in the morning.”

  Silas’ face lit up, his lips pulling so hard that his cheeks wrinkled in the most adorable way. “Yeah? This is your moment to tell me the truth. I don’t want my intentions to be muddled.”

  I nodded as I untied my apron. Caution was meant to be thrown at the wind, right? Sure, he looked like a playboy, but why should I deny myself playtime with a cute boy if I knew I could keep my emotions and attachments under control? I shouldn’t.

  YOLO and all that shit.

  “Okay, Olive,” Silas said with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. “Let’s go have some fun.” He grabbed my hand, interlaced our fingers, and pulled me out of the shop. He only released my hand long enough to allow me to lock the door behind us.

  With a giggle, he led me to where he was parked behind Sam’s restaurant.

  And as I sat in the passenger seat, his hand resting easily on the gearshift as we sailed down the freeway at a comfortable speed, I realized it had taken me months to break my own, ridiculous rule. I had been fighting it for so long, and I had every intention of staying strong. My past breakup would be my last. But perhaps, breaking rules was a good thing. It was invigorating.

  And to be honest, completely terrifying in the best possible way.

  Like Lessie said, I was simply too scared.

  I could use emotions – any emotion, the good and bad – other than simply surviving.

  Maybe Silas was the perfect solution.

  But then he smiled over at me, and I couldn’t deny what my heart really wanted – what it’s been trying to tell me for weeks now. It was why I couldn’t sleep, why I wasn’t ever hungry, why I was always so damn moody whenever I saw a happy couple. I had been denying myself something so human, so primal, that my body was reacting. And no matter how controlled my emotions were, no matter how much I wanted to hermit myself away and commit to being alone for the rest of my life, Silas was hellbent on breaking my armored exterior.

  Silas happy-sighed from the driver’s seat, shifted into a higher gear and took us out of town.

  Oh God, I hope he wasn’t going to murder me.

  Silas

  Someone with my smarts, drive and face wasn’t revered as someone of worth. Not in my world, at least. Especially when that certain someone swapped his doctor’s coat for a chef’s jacket. To say I was a letdown to my family would be an understatement. That’s how it felt most days. Eomma was understanding, she knew I needed to pursue my passion and not Abeoji’s. But holidays back in Korea weren’t exactly comfortable since I decided to follow in my cousin, Sam’s, footsteps and move to America to chase my dream of being a chef.

  Doctor Silas Jung Jong-soo had a definite ring to it, and I loved the idea of helping people, healing them, making the world better – that need burned in my blood – but I couldn’t get to the finish line. It wasn’t because I didn’t have the smarts or didn’t have enough patience. I loved the high stakes of the hospital and I thrived on stress. But I couldn’t take the death. Clinicals broke me. I walked out of that hospital, buried in debt, scarred by the images of the patients I had lost and never went back.

  I think that was why I felt so connected to Olive. And that sentiment only grew the more I came to know her. Sam had told me a small bit of her past when she bought the shop across the street from his restaurant a couple of years ago, and something within me told me that we’d click. If I could just get her to agree to one date, I could prove to her why.

  “Tell me your life story, Silas,” Olive said, her hand moving in a wave out the window against the wind.

  “She said nonchalantly,” I said with a laugh, exiting off the freeway. I looked over my shoulder and moved into the right lane, stopping at the red light in front of us.

  “Might as well start somewhere, right? Something big,” she replied, leaning her head lazily against the headrest, her eyes peering over at me. For the first time, I felt like she was really, truly seeing me. “I feel like we know each other, but we don’t really know know each other. You know? I know your name’s Silas. I don’t know your last name. I know you’re kind-of, but not blood-related to Sam, and you’ve worked at his restaurant for almost three years. You undoubtedly love dirty chai’s. Thanks for that, by the way.” She smirked at me.

  I winked, punching the accelerator when the light turned green.

  “I know you’ve been in America for about ten years. You’re from Korea but I don’t know which part specifically.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Sam,” she said simply.

  I nodded. Of course, Sam told her. He’s been open with information when I asked about her, it made sense that he’d spill insider knowledge about me if Olive asked. That awareness made me smirk. Olive had, in fact, asked about me. Sam was sneaky. He had been trying to be our matchmaker for over a year now. I should thank him.

  “You’re an amazing cook,” she continued, “and you wear beautiful clothes. Outside of that, you’re a question mark.”

  “My full name’s Silas Jung Jong-soo. I changed my name to Silas after I moved here to go to culinary school.”

  Olive nodded thoughtfully.

  “I’m from South Korea. Seoul, to be more precise. We lived in the city my entire life. Tall buildings. Amazing street food. The nicest people you’ll ever meet. Appa is a doctor, and Eomma is a schoolteacher. They still live in Korea. I know Sam because his family founded a company that provides clean water to countries in need and Appa worked with them for a project. Sam and the rest of his brothers have basically been a part of my family since we were kids.”

  “Clean Water, Healthy Earth,” Olive offered. “I know all about their company. They’ve done amazing work,” her tone turned sad, and I thought I might’ve seen the slightest of mist in her eyes before she quickly turned away from me to look out the window.

  Heaviness rested on my chest. Any time I thought about Sam and the things he and his brothers went through, it always made me pause.

  Sam’s life story wasn’t first date material. I decided it was best not to pursue the tragic details of the past. Besides, it wasn’t my story to discuss, and I’m sure Olive felt the same.

  “You and Sam went to culinary school together, right?” I asked, changing the subject.

  Olive turned back to me, returning to her normal, content self. “We did. Two whole years with that goofball,” she sighed, her eyes dreamy. “Then I had to go and buy a space right across the street from him. Seems I couldn’t escape him.”

  I laughed, feeling peaceful as we sailed down the highway. The low hum of the music played in the back speakers, a welcome occupant in the car. We both fell silent, listening to the piano and cello play their harmonious melody. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It felt – nice. It felt normal. We drove about three miles before I said, “I went to medical school.”

  Olive coughed and sputtered into her hand. “You what? You went to medical school? How did I not know this?” She whispered something under her breath about how that was important information, and that Sam should’ve told her before now.

  “Yep. I did. And quit.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Okay, wow, I didn’t know that. The medical field wasn’t your thing?”

  I shook my head, my expression solemn, my eyebrows pushed into my eyes, the corners of my mouth downturned. “Human life is precious, you know? It was hard watching it struggle. I didn’t have the heart for it. I loved helping but I couldn’t separate myself from the loss.”

  She was quiet, soaking in my words before she said, “I went to law school, graduated, and quit after winning my first case. It just wasn’t for me. It didn’t feel authentic to who I was.” She switched gears. “I mean, I wasn’t, by any means, trying to save lives or anything, but I understand how a job can feel so right, yet so wrong at the same time. It’s frustrating and confusing and you can’t help but wonder if there’s something better out there for you. The possibility wears on you. In the end, even though it’s a difficult decision, it’s easier to walk away and start fresh.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It’s hard being an adult,” Olive remarked.

  “Look at us,” I offered with a grin, attempting to provide some levity.

  Her mouth twisted into a grim expression. “How did your parents take you not finishing school?” Olive asked.

  I sighed. “Not well.”

  “Mine either. They’re still angry I walked away from the practice.”

  I laughed and offered to give her a high-five. “Disappointing your parents is a special skill that we’re both clearly well-versed in. I’m proud of us.”

  Olive stretched out her legs after slapping my hand, sitting up straighter. Then she fist-pumped the air. “Team Disappointment, all the way.”

  I made the final turn into the parking lot and found a spot. “We’re here.”

  Olive’s face crinkled, her eyebrows meeting in the middle of her forehead. “And where is here?”

  Giving her a quick smile, I unbuckled, and got out to rush to her side of the car. Grabbing the handle, I opened the passenger door and presented Olive my hand. With a shy smile, she took it and got out, straightening her shirt with her free hand.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  Her pretty eyes slid to me, her grin mischievous. “One thing to know about me, Silas Jung Jong-soo, I’m always hungry.”

  “Note taken,” I said with a chuckle. “I have a good friend who owns a little taco stand. I thought we could grab some and sit by the water for a bit.”

  Olive’s eyes became animated, wide with anticipation. “That . . . that sounds just about perfect.”

  Without letting go of her hand, we made our way to the taco stand and ordered our food.

  “This is, without a doubt, the coolest first date I’ve ever been on,” Olive said around a bite of a carne asada taco. She had a small bit of guacamole on the corner of her mouth.

  Picking up the napkin, I reached across the table and wiped it away for her.

  Olive was struck, her eyes on my napkin-clad hand.

  “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked you first,” I said with a wince, worry lacing my words. “Olive, really, I didn’t think. I won’t touch you without your consent again.”

  A wide grin broke out on her face, and she placed her hand on top of mine. “It’s okay, Silas. I’ve never had anyone care enough about me to wipe food from my face. It was sweet. Thank you.”

  I blew a lungful of air out of my mouth. “Okay. Good. It was a reflex, please let me know if it makes you uncomfortable.”

  She laughed. “It doesn’t.”

  I dipped a chip into the salsa, feeling relief. “I’m glad. And hey,” I said, looking up to meet her eyes. “I’m always here to make sure you don’t have anything on your face. I’ll be the first to tell you if you have something in your teeth, too. People who see things like that and don’t say anything are assholes.”

  “I mean, you’re not wrong. I’ll do the same for you.” She reached her hand out.

  I took her tiny fingers in my hand and shook it. “Kol,” I said, using the slang word for ‘deal’ in Korean.

  “Deal.” She winked and I wondered if she knew a little bit of Korean. It would make sense if she did. She spends a lot of time with Sam and his family. They were all from Korea and I couldn’t imagine the culture not rubbing off on her.

  I took a deep breath, the comfortable silence more than enough, but I couldn’t stop myself after a minute. “May I ask you a question?”

  Olive nodded, picking up a tortilla chip from the bowl in the middle of the table.

  My heart pounded in my chest, the pinks and purples of the sky creating a vibrant emotion deep inside my chest. Not in a way that made me anxious but in a way that settled me and excited me. It made me feel alive. It made me feel bold. We were out here alone with the waves crashing against the shore, merely feet from us – on the verge of chaos, but safe for now. Other restaurant patrons were back at the taco stand, eating their food at the bar. We had stolen the only ocean-side table. “When was your last serious relationship?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Four years ago. He was a chef. Cheated on me, and I haven’t dated since.”

  I cleared my throat, her reluctance to date me suddenly clicking into place. “He’s a dick.”

  That made Olive snicker. “Indisputably.”

  “Were you guys serious?”

  Olive thought for a long moment, picking mindlessly at the food on her plate. “We were together for,” she stopped to count on her fingers, slowly lifting her gaze, “for five – almost six – years. Met while I was in high school. And . . . uh, got married when we were eighteen.”

  I swallowed. “Wow.”

  Olive has been married. It took me a moment to simmer on that. It wasn’t a dealbreaker for me, but it was nice that she offered important information so easily. I was even more surprised Sam hadn’t told me prior to this. Though, there did seem to be a limit to how much he shared, which I was grateful. That wasn’t something I wanted to hear from anyone but her.

  Olive raised her eyebrows, bobbing her head, looking down at her plate.

  “He’s an idiot,” I said without thinking.

  Olive snapped her regard to look at me.

  I couldn’t stop myself from asking, “Is that why you were so hesitant to go out with me?”

  Olive sat her fork down, cracking her knuckles one-by-one before she responded, “I mean, I guess.” She took a second, the full moon just above the water casting a hue of silver against her skin. “Actually, no. There’s no ‘I guess.’ That’s the reason. I’m sorry. It was unfair of me to lump you in with other guys, especially a douchebag like Nicholas, but,” she wavered, openly weighing her options on how to proceed, “are we just going to be completely honest with each other? It’s not like we don’t know one another. Can I be truthful? You can run for the hills if you hate what I have to say. I’m messy and, if I’m being honest, stupid in my reasoning sometimes. You might hear what I have to say and think I’m completely unhinged. I wouldn’t blame you. Every move I make is so over-scrutinized that I think it’s likely I make up impossible scenarios, in order to save myself from heartbreak. Scratch that, I do this in all assets of life. Lessie has been trying to tell me for years, and I refused to listen.”

  “You’re rambling, Olive,” I said around a grin, though I could tell the conversation was quickly turning more serious.

  “I do that when I’m nervous.” Her hands shook slightly as she reached for her water, the condensation on the outside glistening like the stars in the sky.

  I blinked. “You don’t need to be. Nervous, I mean,” I said, attempting to calm her worry. “I know you. I don’t know know you, like you said. I don’t know where you grew up or if you’ve broken a bone before, but I know who you are as a person. I know the Olive sitting across from me right now. Who you were, isn’t an indication of who you are or who you’re going to be in the future. We change, we adapt, we grow. I know your heart.”

  “How, Silas? How is it even possible you’ve come to that conclusion? I haven’t given you enough of me – of who I truly am – for you to be able to make such a decision,” she said as if she was embarrassed, her vulnerability slipping through the cracks, her voice unsteady. “I barely even know the ‘real me’ myself.”

  She didn’t know it, but her transparency made her so damn brave. I felt deeply for her, grateful that she was willing to be so open with me. If only I could find the right words to ease her mind, portray my emotions perfectly, she’d understand how being vulnerable didn’t make her weak, it made her strong.

  “You’re magic, Olive. Can’t you see that?”

  She scoffed, completely skeptical of my words.

  “Seriously,” I said. “We share the same regard for human life on the deepest of levels. We’ve protested in the streets together. I’ve watched you spend time making calls to local senators, blowing up their phones when they decide to do awful things. I’ve been in awe of you organizing food drop-off locations and clothing drives. You stand for what’s right in the world. You, Olive St. James, you just want everyone to live happy lives with their rights intact. That’s beautiful. Honorable, even.”

  Her face pinched, a slight tremble in her chin, as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. Olive was a local advocate – a well-known, local advocate – who fights tirelessly for the rights of people. All people. She wouldn’t ever be open about it – it wasn’t her style – but Sam told me once that she donates a good portion of her profits every month to organizations. Olive uses her platform to help others, and I admired her immensely for it. And I hoped my words showed just how important her presence was, not just to me, but to the community, as well.