"…unless that state is changed by an external force."
— Inertia
Curtis couldn't get her out of his head. Ever since that night at the bar — her black lace dress, her teasing grin, the way she swooped in to save him from losing his temper — Allie had been lodged somewhere in his thoughts, impossible to shake.
She wasn't supposed to be there.
She was just supposed to be his coach. His guide. His friend.
But lately, she'd become something else — something that consumed his focus without permission. Whenever he sat down to work, her voice would echo in the back of his mind, her laughter slipping through the quiet.
He tried to reason with himself. You like Nadine, he thought. She's smart, she understands you, you actually talk about work together.
Yet no matter how logically he framed it, his thoughts always drifted back to Allie.What was she to him? Why couldn't he stop thinking about her?
After the company's night out, Nadine had started texting more — light banter about contracts, finance jokes, sometimes even memes. It was comfortable. Predictable.And still, something about it felt hollow.
He hadn't seen Allie since that night at the bar, and he'd been meaning to thank her — properly — for stepping in when things almost went wrong.
Maybe he'd take her out. As a thank-you.
He fell asleep planning to ask her in person.
The next morning, he arrived at Coppa early, practically buzzing with anticipation.The bell chimed as he entered, but the counter was empty.
No Allie.
Just Zack, rearranging pastry trays.
Curtis sighed quietly and ordered a coffee.
His phone buzzed.
Nadine: Morning! Can you grab me my usual if you're at Coppa?
Before he could type back, Zack said without looking up, "If you're hoping to see Allie, she's on the evening shift today."
Curtis blinked. "How'd you know I was—"
Zack smirked. "Just a wild guess. You didn't hear it from me."
Curtis smiled despite himself. "Thanks, man."
He grabbed two coffees — one for him, one for Nadine — and left.When he handed Nadine her drink, she looked pleasantly surprised."You remembered my order," she said softly.
"Of course," he replied.
"Thanks." She hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hey… maybe sometime, when you're free, we could hang out? Outside of work?"
Curtis smiled politely. "Sure. I'll check my schedule."
He wasn't sure why he didn't just say yes.
Maybe because his mind was already somewhere else.That evening, he went back to Coppa — rushing, breathless, heart thumping like he was late for something important.
Allie was behind the counter, tying her apron. She looked up as he burst in.
"Hi!" he greeted, still catching his breath.
Allie tilted her head, amused. "Hi. Why are you rushing? Someone chasing you?"
He shook his head quickly, still panting. "No, I just… thought I'd miss you."
"Miss me?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.
"I mean— catch you before your shift ended," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck.
Allie chuckled. "I'm here until closing, silly. You know that."
"So… what do you need?" she asked as she poured milk into a cup.
Curtis froze for a second. "Uh…"
"A drink?" she offered.
He nodded too fast. "Yeah! A drink."
Then he caught himself, exhaling. "Actually, I wanted to talk. When you get a minute."
He gestured toward his usual corner by the window.
"Got it," she said with a small smile.
A few minutes later, Allie brought his order over and sat across from him. Her heart was pounding. She braced herself for bad news — that this was goodbye, that their strange little arrangement had run its course.
Curtis looked at her with quiet warmth. "Thanks," he said.
She smiled faintly. "What did you want to tell me?"
He hesitated, staring at her longer than he meant to — the way her hair fell softly to one side, the warmth in her eyes. Then he snapped back.
"I just wanted to thank you," he said. "For helping me the other night — for stopping me before I made a fool of myself. I wanted to treat you. Anything you want — anywhere you want to go. My treat."
Allie blinked, caught off guard. Then, with a grin, she jumped up, darted behind the counter, and came back waving a bright flyer.
"This!" she said, eyes sparkling. "Take me here."
He took the paper. Downtown Spring Rave.
Allie laughed at his raised brow. "One of our regulars is the DJ. I just want to support him — but you don't have to come if that's not your thing."
"No," Curtis said quickly. "Let's go."
Her smile widened. "Really?"
"Really."
••••
The air that night was cool and electric, spring finally thawing the city's edges.
Curtis stood outside Coppa, dressed simply — a dark green flannel shirt over a white tee, clean jeans, white sneakers, and glasses that caught the streetlight. He checked his watch, tapping his foot.
Then he heard her.
"I made it on time for once!"
Allie was walking toward him, glowing beneath the streetlamps.
Her baby-doll dress fluttered with each step — flannel mixed with soft lace, stockings climbing up her legs, Mary Janes glinting under the neon.
He couldn't stop staring.
"What?" she asked, touching her cheek. "Do I have something on my face?"
He blinked hard, embarrassed. "No. You just… look really nice."
Allie smiled. "I'll take that." She looped her arm through his. "Let's go!"
The club pulsed with light and sound. Music thundered through the floor, lasers streaking across smoke and color. The crowd was alive — bodies moving, voices shouting, bass shaking the walls.
They downed a few shots, laughed, joined the dance floor. Allie moved like she belonged to the rhythm itself — carefree, untouchable, radiant.
Curtis watched her through the haze of neon and sweat. She was laughing, spinning, eyes closed — a perfect flash of joy.
And something inside him snapped.
He forgot the rules, the logic, the quiet discipline he'd built his whole life around. The alcohol blurred the edges of his thoughts, the heat of the crowd amplifying every emotion — the music, the lights, the ache in his chest.
Before he could stop himself, he reached out and kissed her.
For a heartbeat, she froze — then shoved him back, hard.
Her palm struck his cheek with a sharp crack.
The world didn't stop — the bass kept pulsing — but for them, everything went silent.
"Allie—" he stammered, his voice hoarse.
She shook her head, her face twisted in disbelief. "That wasn't part of the deal, Curtis."
"I'm sorry," he tried, the alcohol thick on his tongue. "I didn't mean— it just—"
"Is this what you wanted all along?" she snapped, voice trembling. "You think you can just—"
He reached for her, desperate to fix it — but the whiskey and adrenaline were running his mouth now, not his mind. His emotions were tangled — guilt, shame, want — all bleeding into one reckless impulse.
"Allie, please," he said, voice cracking. "I paid for it anyway. If I want more—" he swallowed, not even hearing himself anymore, "—you can name your price. I'll afford it."
The words slipped out like poison.
The moment they left his lips, he knew he'd gone too far.
Allie went still. Her eyes widened — hurt flickering first, then disbelief.
"Is that what you think of me?" she whispered.
The haze cleared instantly. His heart plummeted. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I swear—"
But she was already backing away, shaking her head, tears glinting under the strobe lights.
"Get lost, Curtis. Don't follow me."
Then she turned and walked out — into the blur of color, sound, and strangers — leaving him standing in the middle of the crowd, the music still raging while everything inside him went silent.
He stayed there long after she disappeared, his face burning, chest hollow.The alcohol still burned in his veins, but all he could feel was the sick weight of regret.
He had lost control. And in that one drunken, desperate moment — he might have lost her, too.