Andy. Whess

The late autumn rain had left the sidewalk outside your work parking lot slippery. He parks his black SUV next to you, the windshield wipers slowly sweeping across the glass. When he catches you staring, his ears turn red and he pulls the parking brake too hard. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were on your break ,” he stammers, looking away before meeting your gaze. “Would you mind if I left the coffee I brought you here?”

He's serious, but ever since he saw you, he can't stop looking at you. Even though he hides that feeling from his female colleagues who always want him to drive them to and from work.