"Will do. I'll tell you about it later, okay?" Key texted back before pocketing his phone again. When he glanced back to see where Priscilla sat, he found her looking at him from one of the out-of-the-way window tables. A pang of relief and guilt hit him at the same time. Guilt to text an ex-boyfriend when with her, relief that she still sat there, still looked at him with such attention. He decided to focus on that emotion. After a quick wave, Key turned back to the counter so he could collect their drinks and head over to the young woman.

"Ah, nice! Looks like you picked a really good spot," he exclaimed as he slid into the chair opposite of Priscilla, hoping that the entrance didn't sound rushed or too bright. "Here's your drink. Let me know what you think, kay? I may have picked something a bit unusual." Offering a sheepish smile, he took a drink of his own foamy goodness, humming at the sweet taste. He may not have indulged in white mochas often, but he could never stop adoring them. Even an awkward moment like this felt better with the drink in his hand.