Maya didn’t expect to think about him again. Aiden was just a name on a badge and a steady hand with a needle. But two days later, she spotted him at a smoothie bar across from her training center—headphones around his neck, sipping something bright orange.
He noticed her as she stepped in. “Look who’s not sprinting today,” he said with a small grin. She raised an eyebrow. “I have rest days. Rare, but they exist.” He held up his cup. “You picked the right one. Mango’s on point today.”
She stepped forward to order. “That’s basically candy,” she said, eyeing his drink. “Says the woman ordering peanut butter banana,” he shot back. She smirked. “Touché.” The exchange lasted maybe a minute.
He gave her a casual wave on his way out. That should’ve been it. But the interaction followed her through her cooldown laps, sitting somewhere just behind the usual rhythm of her thoughts. Three days later, Maya was finishing her strength circuit at the hospital’s physical therapy wing when she saw him again.