My Baby Daddy Isn’t Human

Raelynn pushed open the glass door of the small café, a soft chime announcing their entrance. The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the faint sweetness of pastries, wrapping around her like a gentle hug. She glanced around, taking in the rustic wooden beams, cozy booths, and plants dangling from the ceiling. She had passed this place countless times, but it had never occurred to her to step inside—until today.

Reinhart strolled in behind her, adjusting his sleek jacket as he scanned the café. "Huh, not bad," he mused, pushing his sunglasses onto his head. "Not too loud, not too empty. Perfect for secrets."

Raelynn rolled her eyes with a small smile as she made her way to their table. "I didn't bring you here for secrets. It's just lunch."

Reinhart raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Yet, somehow, I feel like I'm about to learn something interesting."

She sighed, half amused. Reinhart had that kind of energy—half rogue, half troublemaker—but he wasn't entirely wrong. Before she could respond, a waitress approached with a polite smile, notepad in hand. They quickly placed their orders, and within moments, the food was brought out with impressive speed.

Raelynn picked up her sandwich, taking a bite before finally answering. "You're digging for something, aren't you?"

He shrugged dramatically. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Raelynn shook her head but couldn't suppress the small smile creeping onto her face. She tapped the edge of her glass, her mind wandering to Elion, as it often did now. Reinhart's gaze didn't miss the shift.

"So, you and Elion," Reinhart started, his voice casual but eyes sharp. "What's the deal there? Co-parenting buddies? Or something... more?"

Raelynn blinked, nearly choking on her drink. She set her glass down with a soft clink. "Co-parenting?" she echoed, her voice light but her fingers drumming nervously against the table.

"Yeah." Reinhart tilted his head, waiting. "Is that all it is?"

She hesitated. "Soon-to-be co-parenting," she corrected, brushing a stray hair behind her ear. "That's the plan."

Reinhart didn't let up. "Just that? I thought maybe there'd be more. You know, given how Elion acts around you."

Raelynn gave a dry laugh, her fingers now fiddling with the edge of her napkin. "Of course, that's it. There can't be something more between us."

His brows furrowed. "Why not?"

She fell silent for a beat, her thoughts spiraling inwards. Why not? The question lingered like smoke. "That's between me and Elion," she replied finally, though her voice lacked its usual firmness.

Reinhart threw his hands up in mock defeat. "Fine, fine. I'm just curious, that's all. I've never seen my brother act like this before."

Raelynn blinked, caught off guard. "Like what?"

"Like he actually gives a damn." Reinhart's words were blunt, but there was a flicker of something softer in his eyes. "He's been... different around you. More grounded, maybe? Or just less of a cold bastard."

Raelynn tightened her grip around her glass, the condensation cool against her fingertips. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but Reinhart wasn't entirely wrong. Elion had changed—maybe just a little, but enough for her to notice.

The Elion she first met was distant, sharp-edged, and unreadable, like a fortress built to keep the world out. Every interaction had felt calculated, every glance weighed with something she couldn't quite decipher. But now? It was subtle, but the shift was there. His words weren't always short, his presence didn't feel as heavy, and sometimes—just sometimes—she caught glimpses of something almost gentle beneath the layers of ice.

She swirled her iced coffee absently, watching the way the ice clinked against the glass. When had she started noticing these things? Or maybe the real question was, why did she care?

Reinhart was still watching her, clearly waiting for some kind of response. She met his gaze, but instead of answering, she took another sip of her drink.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said smoothly, setting her glass down.

Reinhart smirked knowingly. "Uh-huh. Sure."

She smiled despite herself, warmth fluttering in her chest. "Or, I guess I should take that as a compliment."

Reinhart snorted. "You really should."

They fell into an easier silence, broken only by the soft clatter of dishes around them. Raelynn toyed with her pendant, feeling its cool weight against her skin. Her mind replayed Reinhart's words, looping the unspoken possibilities, the questions she didn't want to ask herself.

"Okay, I think we done here," she said finally, pushing back her chair.

"Running away from deep questions already?" Reinhart teased.

Raelynn grinned as she stood. "I'm going to the restroom. Try not to cause chaos while I'm gone."

He gave a mock salute. "No promises."

Raelynn weaved through the café, her boots soft against the wooden floor. The restroom was tucked in the back, past a shelf of books and a board pinned with local flyers. As she rounded the corner, someone exited the restroom, bumping into her shoulder.

"Oh, sorry—" Raelynn began, but the words caught in her throat.

The woman who stood before her smiled sweetly, her eyes warm and familiar—as if she knew Raelynn intimately. Her hair was dark and curled softly around her face, and there was something unsettling in the kindness of her smile, too perfect, too knowing.

"It's alright," the woman said softly, her voice melodic.

Raelynn felt a strange chill despite the warmth of the café. The woman's gaze lingered on her, an odd sense of recognition flickering in her eyes before she stepped aside.

Raelynn turned to watch her go, her heart oddly unsettled. Shaking it off, she entered the restroom, but her mind was now a whirlwind of questions.

Outside, Reinhart sat back, finishing the last sip of his coffee, his eyes flickering toward the restroom door, waiting. He hadn't missed that strange woman passing by either.

His fingers tapped absently against his arm, his easy smirk replaced by something more thoughtful.

He swirled the last bit of his coffee before finishing it in one go. Something about her didn't sit right with him.