Page 35 of Sweet Heart for the Bear

I hate to disappoint the old Witch.

Ironically, the ancient spell-caster behind the matchmaking app has turned out to be one of the most fascinating people I’ve ever met.

We’ve had several phone calls since I started working on the app, and every time, he’s dropped some new mind-bending revelation about the multiverse, fate, and soul connections.

And I have to admit—his theories have piqued my interest.

Almost as much as a certain pizzeria owner.

But not quite.

Nope.

My Bear chuffs in agreement.

Not quite.

The restaurant is nice and bright, and it smells delicious inside like roasted meat and spices.

My Bear rumbles, a deep, irritated growl vibrating through my chest as the hostess leads me to my table.

I breathe through it, reminding myself this is just a test date.

I’m here before my match, which is good—gives me a second to focus. To get my head in the game.

Except.

That plan?

Shot to absolute shit.

Because two seconds after I sit down, another waiter arrives—this time, with a woman in tow.

And the moment I look up, Iknow.

Something primal—something bigger than me—locks into place.

The waiter beams. “Miss Coppola, here’s your table.”

I stop breathing.

She steps forward.

“Hi, I’m Ca—oh,” she starts, her voice light, casual—until she gets a good look at me.

Her mouth pauses mid-sentence.

Velvet brown eyes go wide.

“Wow.”

A beat of silence.

Followed by a—a smile.

A smile so wide, so bright, it damn near knocks the breath from my lungs.

And just like that, everything clicks.

---