Page 14 of Window Seat for Two
But once inside, laptop long forgotten, he found himself at the window again. Across the street, Ari was indeed checking his ovens, moving between them with practiced efficiency. But every few minutes, he'd pause and glance toward the spot where they'd sat, where they'd almost?—
Nate touched his own lips, still tingling with the memory of breath that wasn't quite a kiss, and wondered what might have happened if the lights had stayed off just a few moments longer.
NINE
ROOFTOP KISS
The takeout bags crinkled in Nate's grip as he pushed through the bakery door, the familiar bell announcing his arrival to the empty shop. Evening light filtered through the windows, casting everything in warm amber, and the lingering scent of fresh bread made his stomach growl despite the pad thai waiting in the bags.
Ari looked up from wiping down the counter, his movements stilling as their eyes met. That same shy smile from this morning tugged at his lips, but underneath it, Nate caught the flicker of something else—awareness, maybe, or the same nervous energy that had been thrumming through his own chest since he'd woken up thinking about almost-kisses and flour-dusted fingers.
"Thai place was busy," Nate said, lifting the bags slightly. "But I got extra spring rolls."
"Good thinking." Ari folded the dishrag with careful precision, his gaze sliding away before returning. "I, uh—want to show you something. If you're interested."
The hesitation in his voice made Nate's pulse skip. "Always."
Ari's smile grew a little more certain. He gestured toward the back of the shop, past the display cases and the small seatingarea. "The rooftop. Sofia started something up there, and I've been... well, you'll see."
They moved through the bakery's back room, past industrial mixers and cooling racks, to a narrow staircase Nate had noticed before but never thought much about. Following Ari up the steps, he caught glimpses of the apartment above—a cozy living room with Sofia's photos still scattered across the mantle, a kitchen where his own sketches were now pinned to the refrigerator with flower-shaped magnets.
The sight of his drawings displayed so casually, so naturally, sent warmth spreading through his chest.
Then Ari pushed open a door at the top of the stairs, and Nate stepped out onto the rooftop into something that stole his breath entirely.
String lights crisscrossed overhead between wooden planters overflowing with herbs and flowers, creating a canopy of warm light against the deepening sky. The scent hit him immediately—basil and lavender, tomatoes and something sweet he couldn't identify, all mixing with the cooling evening air. Terra cotta pots lined the roof's perimeter, filled with everything from rosemary to what looked like strawberry plants, their leaves catching the light.
"Jesus, Ari." Nate turned slowly, taking it all in. "This is incredible."
"Sofia started it about five years ago." Ari's voice carried that particular softness it always held when he talked about his aunt. He moved to a large tomato plant, touching the leaves with gentle fingers. "She said every baker needs to know where their ingredients come from. That fresh herbs make all the difference, but more than that—you need to understand how things grow."
The city stretched out around them in all directions. Other rooftops dotted with gardens and satellite dishes, windows beginning to glow golden in the gathering dusk. But up here,surrounded by growing things and soft light, it felt like they were in their own world.
"I can see why she loved it up here." Nate set the takeout bags down near a weathered wooden bench. "It's like a secret garden."
"Some of the neighbors have been asking about it. Mrs. Vasquez especially—she thinks we should do some kind of community garden project." Ari moved to help unpack the food, his shoulder brushing Nate's as they worked. "I keep telling her I don't know what I'm doing, that Sofia was the one with the green thumb."
"Looks like you figured it out pretty well." Nate gestured to the thriving plants around them. "Everything's beautiful."
They settled cross-legged on a blanket Ari pulled from a storage box tucked between planters, the containers of pad thai and spring rolls spread between them. The string lights overhead cast dancing shadows across their faces as the sky deepened from blue to purple.
"This is much better than eating in my apartment," Nate said, accepting the chopsticks Ari handed him. "Though I have to admit, I'm a little jealous. My fire escape barely fits a chair, let alone all this."
"Sofia always said good food tastes better under open sky." Ari took a bite of pad thai, his expression thoughtful. "She used to have dinner parties up here in the summer. Nothing fancy, just neighbors and friends, but she'd make these elaborate picnics with everything she'd grown."
"Sounds perfect."
"It was." Ari's smile held traces of old sadness, but warmth too. "I keep thinking I should do something like that again. Maybe when I'm not so worried about the business failing."
Nate studied his face in the soft light. "What would you do? If the money wasn't an issue, I mean. If you could do anything."
For a moment, Ari didn't answer, focused on wrapping noodles around his chopsticks. When he finally looked up, his expression was almost shy.
"Travel, maybe. Sofia always talked about going to France, studying pastry techniques from the masters. She had this collection of cookbooks from French patisseries—these incredible photos of things I can't even pronounce." He laughed quietly. "I used to think it was just dreaming, you know? But lately, I wonder what it would be like to actually go. To learn from people who've been perfecting their craft for generations."
The longing in his voice made Nate's chest tight. "You should go. When things stabilize here."
"Maybe." Ari met his eyes. "What about you? Besides world domination through illustration."
